Harbor of Heartbreak

Chapter 3

The day I lost our baby in a car accident, I called Alexander over video chat, crying, barely able to breathe through the pain.

And the person who answered?

A completely naked Natalie.

"Oh, Mrs. Crawford," she said with a smirk, casually flipping her hair, "Alex lost a game to me, so he's currently handcuffed to the bed, getting his punishment. Did you need something from him?"

I didn't say a word. I just ended the call.

Less than a minute later, Alexander called me back. Natalie was curled in his arms, crocodile tears glistening on her lashes.

And he? He tore into me like I was the one who'd done something wrong.

"You're so damn petty, Claire. Just because Natalie answered? God, grow up!"

Then came the words that would never stop echoing in my head:

"A useless idiot like you who can't even keep her own child… what are you even good for?

Claire, why don't you just go get hit by a truck and die?"

I should've hated him then. Maybe I did. But the pain was still too fresh, the shock too raw.

Snapping back to the present, I was about to turn and avoid them entirely when Alexander suddenly walked over, expression cold and unreadable.

"Why are you just standing there?" he asked, tone clipped.

I instinctively dropped my gaze.

"I wasn't following you. It's just a coincidence. Sorry if I disturbed you."

"Wait."

At his command, I froze. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a flicker of jealousy in Natalie's eyes.

Still gripping Alexander's arm possessively, she turned to me with a saccharine smile.

"Mrs. Crawford, I'm so grateful for your blood donation. Without it, I'd still be dizzy and weak right now." She turned to him, batting her lashes. "Alex, sweetheart, why don't we ask your wife to come home with us? For dinner?"

Alexander playfully tapped her nose.

"The kindest pregnant woman in the world. Whatever you say goes."

Since I had to return to collect my things anyway, I didn't bother rejecting Natalie's "generosity."

In the spacious black car, I didn't have to wait long before Natalie got bored and staged her next act.

"Oh my! What's this doing here?" she gasped, fishing a lacy, freshly stained thong out from between the seats.

She pressed it against her chest like it was some tragic misunderstanding.

"Alex! Didn't you say you threw this away?"

Pouting, she leaned into him, smacking his chest like a spoiled child.

Alexander chuckled and murmured an apology, acting like he was indulging a harmless tantrum, but the way he kept glancing at me said otherwise.

He was watching. Waiting.

Waiting for me to snap.

But I didn't even flinch.

That same irritation from the hospital flickered back across his face.

"Claire, you've been staring at your phone ever since we got in," he said, voice tinged with annoyance, and jealousy. "Texting your cousin again? Or someone else I should know about?"

I had just confirmed my flight. Calmly, I turned off the screen.

"Just reading the news."

He clearly didn't buy it.

The next second, he reached over and snatched my phone.

"Password."

"My birthday."

Nine years married. Just six numbers.

Yet he kept typing it wrong until the screen locked itself.

He didn't say another word the rest of the drive.

When we got home, Alexander lovingly helped a nauseous Natalie up to the master bedroom.

He called the cook to make all of her favorite dishes.

Then, catching sight of me heading toward the guest room, he hesitated.

Finally, he said to the cook, "Make a couple of Claire's usuals too. Set the table for three."

In the guest room, I opened my suitcase, only to find every single item of clothing shredded into ribbons.

Every. Single. One.

Only the documents and passport hidden in the inner pocket had survived.

As I gathered them up, ready to leave for good, Natalie blocked the doorway, holding a black bottle in one hand.

She gave me a slow once-over, eyes filled with scorn.

"Wow, Claire. I've got to hand it to you. After everything I've done to humiliate you, you still won't leave the Crawford house?"

She leaned in closer, her voice a smug whisper.

"But I guess it makes sense. That old hag from your family died last month, didn't she? With your only support gone, of course you're clinging to Alex like he's your last lifeline."

Then her expression shifted, as if she'd just remembered something deliciously cruel.

"Oh, and you do know why Alex refused to fly you to the hospital to say goodbye to your grandma, right?" She held up her phone, smiling. "It's because he promised to take me to the beach that day. We watched the sunset together. Took this photo during our kiss. It's my wallpaper now, wanna see?"

That was it.

I slapped the phone out of her hand and lunged, grabbing her by the throat before I could stop myself.

The bottle slipped from her fingers and hit the floor with a dull thud.

The moment it cracked open, the stench of gasoline filled the air.

Panic flashed across her face.

In our struggle, Natalie's elbow knocked something over, and,

Whoosh.

The flames caught fast.

Thick smoke rose around us as fire burst to life across the floor.