Chapter 5
Ethan watched Claire for three days.
From the shadows. From across the street. From a park bench with a clear view of her cart.
He learned her routine.
She woke up at four every morning. The man—whose name Ethan learned was Daniel—would help her load the cart. They would walk to the market together. Claire would sell until early afternoon, then Daniel would meet her again and help her push the cart home.
Daniel was good to her.
That much was clear.
He carried heavy things for her. He brought her water when she was tired. He talked to her with kindness in his eyes. He never touched her inappropriately, never crossed any lines.
He was a friend.
Nothing more.
Ethan's initial jealousy faded, replaced by something else.
Gratitude.
Someone had been there for Claire when he couldn't be. Someone had helped her survive.
But who was he?
On the third day, Ethan followed Daniel after he left Claire's apartment.
Daniel didn't go to a fancy house or a nice neighborhood. He went to a small, tidy house in West Ashley—the same neighborhood where Ethan and Claire had lived in their tiny apartment.
Daniel went inside.
Ethan waited.
An hour later, an older woman came out and got into her car. Daniel waved from the doorway.
Ethan approached the house after the woman left. He knocked on the door.
Daniel opened it.
He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, his hair slightly damp from a shower. He looked at Ethan with polite confusion.
“Can I help you?”
Ethan stood there, suddenly unsure of what to say. How do you introduce yourself to the man who has been taking care of your wife while you were in a coma?
“I'm looking for Claire,” he said finally.
Daniel's expression changed. Politeness vanished, replaced by wariness.
“Who are you?”
“Someone who knows her. Someone who needs to talk to her.”
Daniel stepped outside and closed the door behind him. He stood between Ethan and the house, his body language protective.
“Claire has been through enough. If you're here because of the Parkers—”
“I'm not here because of the Parkers.” Ethan looked him in the eye. “I'm Ethan.”
Daniel froze.
His eyes widened. His mouth opened but no sound came out.
“Ethan Parker.”
Daniel stumbled back as if he had been hit.
“You're dead,” he whispered.
“Apparently not.”
Daniel stared at him. Took in the scars on his face, the tiredness in his eyes, the way he stood—like a man who had been through hell and was still standing.
“Claire said you would come back,” Daniel said, his voice unsteady. “She never stopped believing. Everyone told her she was crazy, but she said you would find your way back to her.”
Ethan's throat tightened.
She had believed.
Even when everyone else said he was gone. Even when his own mother had thrown her out. Even when she was pregnant and alone and struggling.
She had believed.
“Can I see her?” Ethan asked.
Daniel hesitated.
“Not here. Not like this. She's... she's fragile right now. The pregnancy is high-risk. The doctor says she needs to take it easy, but she won't stop working. She's determined to provide for the babies.”
“Babies?”
“Triplets. Three boys. She found out two months ago.”
Ethan closed his eyes.
Three boys.
His sons.
“I need to see her,” he said again. “Please.”
Daniel looked at him for a long moment. Then he nodded.
“Tomorrow. At the market. Around ten. She'll be less busy then. I'll make sure she's alone for a few minutes.”
“Thank you.”
Daniel turned to go back inside, then paused.
“Ethan?”
“Yeah?”
“Margaret Parker is a monster. What she did to Claire... no one should have to go through that. If you're really back, you need to make it right.”
“I will.”
Daniel went inside.
Ethan stood on the sidewalk for a long time.
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow he would see Claire.
He would tell her he was alive.
May you like
He would hold her.
And then he would make Margaret pay.
