Chapter 5

Tristan actually showed up, but he only gave me a cold, passing glance before going to talk to Julian about Mom’s condition.

He didn't offer a single word of concern for me—his wife, who had been kneeling on the hard floor for days.

"I told you not to be too soft on her. Look what she's become. She actually thinks she can replace Chloe," Julian’s mocking voice drifted over.

Tristan let out a sharp, sarcastic laugh. "She could never replace Chloe. She isn't even in the same league."

Julian purposely raised his voice so I could hear every word.

"She spent years shamelessly begging for our attention. She even tried to bake chicken pot pies for me just like Chloe did. It was pathetic."

"She’s like a thief who stole Chloe's family and Chloe's husband. Now that a few years have passed, she's finally showing her true, ugly colors."

So, my years of careful devotion were nothing but "shameless begging" and "disgusting" to them.

This was supposed to be my family. How was I a thief? And marrying Tristan was never my choice.

If he hated it so much, he could have refused. Why take his anger out on me?

"Look at her, pretending to be pale and victimized. Who is she trying to fool?"

Since falling ill, my entire body had been racked with constant pain. I was completely exhausted, yet they actually believed I was faking it.

Tristan sneered, walking over and looking down at me. "I'll give you one last chance. Apologize to me."

I slowly lifted my head, my face devoid of emotion. "Please, sign the divorce papers as soon as possible."

Tristan’s face contorted with rage. He grabbed my wrist, pulling me up roughly.

"Clara, stop throwing these tantrums! Why do you think you got to marry me in the first place? If Chloe were still here, do you think I would have ever looked at you?"

He squeezed my wrist tightly, his voice dripping with venom. "You better take those words back right—"

Before he could finish his threat, my body reached its absolute limit.

I coughed violently, and a dark spray of blood splattered onto his expensive shoes.

My legs gave out, and I collapsed onto the floor.

"Clara! What’s wrong with you?"

"Clara! Why are you spitting blood?"

"Stop pretending!"

How hilarious. I actually heard a note of panic in their voices.

My body felt weightless as someone lifted me into their arms.

Almost at the exact same moment, frantic, ecstatic shouting echoed from the hallway outside.

"Chloe is back! Miss Chloe isn't dead! She's alive!"