Fifth Time, Final Goodbye

On their third anniversary, Finley had all their friends over to celebrate. Claire walked in to find him on one knee, proposing to his childhood friend, Renee. "What is going on?" she asked. He shrugged like it was nothing. "It's just a game of truth or dare." But it wasn't until he shoved her down the stairs, causing her to miscarry, that she finally woke up. She'd given him five chances. Now? She was done. "Finley, it's over. Let's get divorced." Chapter 1 On Claire Carlson and Finley Lloyd's third wedding anniversary, he threw a party with all their friends. When she showed up, though, she walked straight into a nightmare: Finley on one knee, proposing to his childhood crush. The private room buzzed with chants: "Say yes, say yes!" "Kiss her, Finley! Don't pretend we didn't call it. Everyone knows you're still into Renee, even though you're married!" someone hollered. "Come on, man," another laughed. "If Claire sees this, she's gonna flip." Renee Slutsky tilted her head down, all fake shy, her voice sweet. "Especially since Claire's pregnant. Stress isn't good for her." The crowd egged him on harder. "You can't bail now, dude! You lost the dare! Kiss her!" Finley froze, eyes locked on Renee like he couldn't hear anything else. Slowly, he leaned in. "WHAT are you doing?" Claire's voice sliced through the noise. Everyone froze. Every head turned toward the door, where Claire stood. Someone scrambled to explain. "It's not what it looks like, Claire! Just a stupid game!" "A game?" Her eyes were like ice. "Finley was about to kiss her, and it's just a game?" Finley's friends scattered like roaches. "Uh, I gotta run. See ya!" "Same, man. Oh, uh... happy anniversary." As his friends bailed, Finley scowled. "Seriously, Claire? It was just a stupid game of truth or dare. I lost. Why are you making such a big deal out of this?" Claire rested a hand on her belly, her disappointment hitting like a punch. She was three months pregnant and had been so excited for tonight—she thought he'd planned something special to celebrate. Instead, this disaster was his big surprise. "Don't be mad, Claire," Renee piped up. "You must've misunderstood." She stepped closer, holding out a cup of tea. "Really, it was just a game. Don't listen to what they said about Finley still liking me. That's just them messing around. I'm sorry they upset you." In case Claire had somehow missed the jab, Renee 'helpfully' repeated it all, like a considerate little reminder. When Renee moved in even closer, Claire instinctively shielded her belly. Then Renee let out this dramatic shriek. "Ah! It hurts!" Claire blinked, confused, as Renee hit the floor, hot tea spilling onto her hand and leaving a red mark. Finley panicked, rushing to her side like a freaking knight in shining armor. He scooped her up. "Renee! Are you okay?" "I'm fine. Don't blame Claire... she didn't mean it." Claire almost laughed. What a joke. She hadn't even touched her. But Finley wasn't done. "Claire, do you even know what you're doing? If you're mad at me, fine, but don't take it out on Renee! Think about our child—don't you care about the consequences?" He said it. He really said it. To defend Renee, he cursed their baby. Without waiting for an answer, Finley carried Renee out of the room. Claire followed him downstairs, grabbing his arm. "What are you doing? It's our anniversary, and you're leaving with her? What does that say about us?" "Let go, Claire! If anything happens to Renee, I'll never forgive you!" "Anything happens? It's a burn! She fell on her own—I didn't even touch her!" Claire's voice shook with fury. She hadn't done a thing, yet Finley instantly believed Renee, no questions asked. Same as three years ago. Nothing had changed. His heart had always belonged to Renee. "Still making excuses? Move!" With that, Finley shoved her. Claire lost her footing, stumbling backward. Her balance tipped, and she tumbled down the stairs. Chapter 2 A wave of searing pain hit Claire, ripping a cry from her throat. "Finley, don't go! My stomach—" He stopped and looked at her, his expression cold and unfeeling. "I don't have time for this. Do you even get what it means if Renee's hand scars? She's a celebrity. Stop being so selfish." He walked off with Renee, never looking back. Claire watched him go, despair crushing her. The pain spiked, tearing through her. She turned to people nearby. "Help me... someone, please help my baby—" A hot rush of liquid spilled down her legs, and the metallic tang of blood hit her nose. She looked down—bright red everywhere. "No..." Her voice cracked as tears streamed down her face, sheer terror clawing at her heart. Her baby. She couldn't lose her baby. "Miss, are you okay? OMG, someone call 911!" A stranger spotted Claire in the pool of blood and grabbed their phone. By the time she was in the ambulance, the pain was unbearable, her vision swimming. Still, she held on, begging the paramedic. "Please save my baby. Save my baby. It's only three months... please." "Don't worry, ma'am. We'll do everything we can," the paramedic reassured her, speaking gently, careful not to cause her more distress. "Do you want us to call someone for you?" When the call went through, it wasn't Finley who picked up. "Hello? What is it?" Renee's voice came through. "Who is this? I need to speak to Claire Carlson's husband immediately. She's hemorrhaging and on the way to the hospital—this is life and death!" Finley had already dropped Renee off at a hospital. His phone sat forgotten in her bag while he went to pay the bills. Renee sneered. "Claire's so dramatic. She thinks pulling the baby card will bring Finley back? If I hadn't left three years ago, I'd already be Mrs. Lloyd. He's always loved me. What does she even have on me?" "Miss, I don't care about your drama. Get her husband now—a baby's life is on the line!" Claire, barely conscious, caught Renee's voice from the loudspeaker. Her plea was weak, trembling. "Renee, I'm not competing with you. Please, tell Finley to come. I'm losing my baby..." "I don't buy it. But fine—let's see who matters more: me or your baby." Claire kept begging, her voice cracking, but Renee turned to Finley. "It's Claire. She says the baby's in trouble and wants you to go back." Finley didn't hesitate. "Ignore her. She's lying again. Your hand's more important. The doctor will be here soon—don't worry." His words hit Claire like a death blow, tearing her heart apart. Her vision blurred with tears, and the world slipped away. The paramedic tried to speak, but Finley hung up. When he called back, the phone was off. "This is insane!" the paramedic muttered, gripping Claire's hand. "Stay with me—we'll do everything we can!" But the pain said it all. She knew her baby was gone. When Claire woke, the antiseptic stung her nose, burning her eyes. The sterile air felt suffocating. The doctor approached with a sympathetic look. "You're still young. You'll have other children." Claire stared at the ceiling, her hand drifting to her now-flat stomach. Tears streamed silently. No one else would ever understand. The Lloyds had pressured her to get pregnant, overjoyed when she finally did. But now? The baby was gone. Their father killed them. She doubted the Lloyd family would care about her anymore. Chapter 3 "Where's the baby's father? I called him to come take care of you," the doctor asked. Claire blinked, her voice weak. "The baby doesn't have a father." The doctor frowned. "That can't be right. You're married, aren't you? But I've never seen your husband at any of your checkups. And now, with something this serious? Nothing?" Claire froze. It hit her: every single prenatal appointment, she'd been alone. When she first told Finley she was pregnant, he acted thrilled. Promised he'd come to the first ultrasound. But then Renee showed up. From that moment, it was like Claire didn't exist. Every time she mentioned a checkup, he dodged her, always too busy. She knew where he really was—spending time with Renee. She stayed quiet for the baby's sake. But now? The baby was gone. So was her reason to keep enduring this. She was done. Seven years of chasing him, and she had nothing left. "If no one's here to handle this, you'll need to sort out the payment," the doctor said, handing her a form. Claire pushed the blanket aside, forcing herself out of bed. And then she saw them. Finley. And Renee. He was hovering over her, his arm steadying her. When he saw Claire, he stepped in front of Renee, protective. "You followed us here?" Finley snapped. "Renee's hand is already hurt—what more do you want?" His words hit like ice. "Don't talk to Claire like that," Renee murmured, leaning against him. "I'm sure she's just here to apologize." She smiled faintly at Claire. "It's okay. I'm not blaming you." "If you're here to apologize," Finley said, "go get Renee something to eat. Her hand's injured, and she needs to rest." Claire glanced at Renee's hand. Barely red. Seriously? Meanwhile, she'd just lost her baby, and no one cared. Her heart felt ache, but she forced a brittle smile, even as her vision blurred. Words caught in her throat, but Finley noticed something off. He frowned, his tone shifting. "What now? All I'm asking is for you to apologize and get Renee some food. Is that really so hard?" "No," Claire said, forcing a smile. "It's not too much." What was there to fight about? Losing the baby had made everything else feel... irrelevant. "Good." Finley nodded. "Now go home and wait for me. Once Renee's hand heals, I'll come back to you." The words hit like déjà vu. She'd heard them before—so many times. The day Renee came back, Claire had scheduled a prenatal appointment. Finley said he was busy, told her to go alone. She waited at the hospital all day, but he never showed. Instead, she saw him on the news that evening, standing at the airport with a bouquet of yellow roses, grinning as he welcomed Renee home. A few days later, Claire came down with a fever. Because of the baby, she couldn't take any medication, so she spent the night curled up, sweating through the pain. Finley? He was off on a film set with Renee. She'd called him, desperate, telling him she felt awful. His response? The same as always. "Wait for me. I'll be back soon." He didn't come back until the fever had already broken. It was always like that. Broken promises, over and over, until all the letdowns blurred together. After one brutal fight, he swore he'd change. Promised he wouldn't leave her for Renee again. She'd given him five chances. This was the fifth. "Renee hasn't eaten yet. If you're not going to get her something, I'll take her myself. Just head home," Finley said, cutting into Claire's thoughts. "Okay." She turned to leave without another word.. But Finley's gaze snagged on the paper in her hand, his eyes narrowing. "What's that you're holding?" Chapter 4 "Nothing." Claire shoved the paper into her pocket and kept walking, refusing to glance back. Behind her, Finley called out, "You've got a checkup in a few days, right? Once I deal with Renee, I'll come with you to the hospital." Her steps faltered, tears slipping down despite her best effort to hold it together. "We'll see," she said, turning to face him. "But, Finley? Your five chances are up." "What?" He frowned. "Claire, come on. That was a joke. I never took it seriously—neither should you. Once Renee's hand heals, I'll come back to you. To the baby." A flicker of guilt flashed in his eyes, but it wasn't enough to stop him from turning back to Renee, guiding her carefully as they left. Claire watched him go, her heart hollow but her mind resolute. 'That's it, Finley. Your five chances are gone. You'll never get another one.' Downstairs, she went to pay the hospital bill. While waiting in line, dizziness hit her like a wave, and she stumbled. A nurse rushed over. "Miss, you look pale. Why are you handling this alone? Where's your husband? Here, let me help you." "Thanks." The nurse's kindness was a tiny spark in the icy weight pressing on her chest. A stranger noticed her struggle, yet Finley? His eyes were glued to Renee, blind to everything else. Claire spent three days in the hospital. Not a single call from Finley. She doubted he'd even gone home. "Claire, I'm here to check if you're ready for discharge," the doctor said, walking in with a small group. They examined her while chatting amongst themselves. "Did you hear? Renee Slutsky, the big celebrity, was here. Burned her hand, I think." "Just a minor burn. She didn't even need to stay. She left earlier today." "Who was that guy with her? He's gorgeous! Is he her boyfriend?" "Not sure, but he treated her like she was the only person on the planet. Lucky girl." ... Every word hit Claire like a gut punch. Unreal. She was Finley's wife, and he'd spent three days in the same hospital glued to someone else. "Ms. Carlson, you're all set to go. Is anyone picking you up?" The doctor's voice was careful, curious. No one had visited her. She'd been completely alone. "No one." Claire got out of bed, packing her things without a glance at the group. "Some people really have it tough," one of them muttered as they left. When Claire got home, the smell of pumpkin soup greeted her. In the kitchen, Finley stood wearing an apron, stirring the pot. In three years of marriage, she'd never seen him cook. For a second, she wondered if he was trying. But the moment he saw her, he didn't even let her settle in. "Why are you just now getting back? You're four or five months pregnant—why are you running around? Can't you just stay home and rest?" Claire froze, biting back the urge to snap. She wasn't even three months along. Did he even know that? She let it go. She was too tired for another fight. She turned toward the stairs, all she wanted was to sleep. Before she reached them, a bright, chirpy voice called out. "Finley, is the soup ready? I'm starving!" Claire's eyes narrowed. 'He brought her home.' "Almost done, little foodie. Come eat," Finley said, setting a bowl of pumpkin soup on the table. He slid another bowl toward Claire. "You should eat too," he added. Claire didn't move. "Why is she here?" Renee turned to her, all fake sweetness. "Claire, my house is being renovated, and I had nowhere else to go. Finley was kind enough to let me stay. You don't mind, do you?" Finley waved it off. "Don't worry about it. This is my house, not hers. I don't need her permission." Chapter 5 Finley owned plenty of properties, but only one had Claire's name on it—a house in the next neighborhood. The Lloyd family gave it to her when they found out she was pregnant. Now, with the divorce looming, Claire just wanted some peace. She didn't care if it was Finley or Renee; she wasn't in the mood to deal with either of them. "Isn't there a house in the neighboring community?" she asked coolly. "Why not let Miss Slutsky stay there? It'd be more convenient." Finley frowned, caught off guard. "That's your house." "If she needs it, she can use it," Claire said flatly before turning to head upstairs. "You're not having any pumpkin soup?" Finley called after her. "No." She hated pumpkins—and pumpkin soup most of all. When she came back down later, the living room was empty except for Emma, the maid, who was clearing the table. "Mrs. Lloyd, Mr. Lloyd and Miss Slutsky went to the house in the neighboring community," Emma said quietly. "Okay," Claire replied, barely glancing up. Not long after, her phone buzzed. It was Finley. "I'm not coming home tonight. Renee's afraid of the dark, so I'll stay here with her." "Alright." Claire's calm reply threw Finley off. Feeling a flicker of guilt, he tried again. "I'm sorry, Claire. Renee's still like a kid—afraid of the dark, scared of ghosts. I can't leave her alone. Tomorrow's your birthday. I'll be back to celebrate, okay?" "Okay." Claire didn't bother with anything else and hung up. She glanced around the house, her eyes settling on the walls. They were covered with pictures of children—Finley's mother's doing. She'd put them up to encourage Claire during her pregnancy. Paulina had even brought endless herbal remedies to help her conceive. It hadn't been easy. Claire had struggled to get pregnant, taking those remedies for months before it finally happened. But now the baby was gone, and so was her marriage. Those pictures didn't mean anything anymore. Claire stood on a chair and started ripping them down, one by one. Emma gasped. "Mrs. Lloyd, what are you doing? Please be careful—you should think of the baby!" "It's fine." She tore every last photo off the wall, stuffed them into a garbage bag, and handed it to Emma. "Throw this out." Then she picked up her phone and called Raoul, her lawyer, asking him to come over the next day. By the time Raoul arrived, he had already drafted a contract based on her instructions. "Ms. Carlson, are you sure you don't want anything?" he asked. "Yes, nothing at all." She wanted no ties to Finley. The house, the car, the money—it wasn't worth it. She had her own means and didn't need anything from him. "Alright. Take a look. If it's good, I'll print it out." "Thank you. Let me know when it's ready for me to sign. And don't mention the divorce to Finley yet." "Got it." Raoul hesitated, like he had something to say, but left it alone. Just as Raoul was leaving, Finley walked in. Raoul had been handling some business for his company, so seeing him here caught Finley off guard. "What are you doing here?" "Mrs. Lloyd asked me to stop by," Raoul said smoothly before slipping out. Finley turned to Claire. "Why was Raoul here?" "Nothing important." She glanced at him briefly. He looked worn out, with dark circles under his eyes. "Didn't sleep well last night?" she asked casually. "Renee wanted to watch horror movies," Finley said with a small laugh. "She's scared of them but wouldn't stop insisting. We ended up staying up all night." He laughed again, completely unaware of how fondly he was talking about Renee. Claire just watched him. It had been ages since she'd seen that smile. The last time was probably the day she told him she was pregnant. Chapter 6 "Why didn't you rest there for a while?" Claire asked. "It's not my home," Finley said, shrugging off his jacket and handing it to her like it was automatic. "Besides, it's your birthday. I should spend it with you." Claire took the jacket without a word, the sharp, cloying scent of perfume hitting her instantly. She placed it on the couch, keeping some distance between them. "When's your next prenatal appointment?" Finley asked, stepping closer. His hand settled on her stomach, heavy and unwelcome. "Baby, do you miss Daddy? Next time, Daddy will go with Mommy to the appointment. We'll see you. Isn't that exciting?" Claire froze, staring at his bright smile, feeling nothing but cold. Exciting? Was he serious? There wasn't even a baby left to see, thanks to him. "Next Monday. Will you be free?" "I will," he promised, sliding his arms around her from behind. "I'm sorry, Claire. I know I've been distant, but it's not what you think. Renee and I are just friends. You're so jealous sometimes. Like the other day—you embarrassed me in front of my friends, didn't you?" Her back stiffened, and she stayed quiet. Three years of marriage, and he'd had the audacity to propose to Renee in front of everyone. How was she supposed to feel? Sensing her silence, Finley switched tactics. "How about this? It's your birthday. Wherever you want to go, I'll take you. Deal?" She didn't answer immediately, memories of an old promise creeping back. He'd once said he'd take her to the Maldives to see the ocean—a promise never kept. "I want to go to the Maldives," she said. "You promised me." Finley frowned. "That's too far. It'd take forever to plan. How about somewhere closer? I'll book a cute B&B. We'll be back by Monday." "I was kidding," Claire said with a faint smile. She wasn't surprised. Renee always came first. Later, Finley booked a fancy restaurant for dinner. Claire didn't want to go but figured, why not? It'd probably be their last meal together. At the table, Finley handed her the menu with a smile that looked genuine if you didn't know better. "Order whatever you like." Before she could even scan it, he rattled off suggestions. "Let's do the herb-crusted lamb, escargot, foie gras... oh, and a bottle of red." Claire frowned. None of those were things she liked. Did he even know her anymore? Maybe he never did. To top it off, Finley didn't even eat lamb. Before she could call him out, Renee showed up, sliding into a chair. She whipped off her mask, all smiles. "Claire! Happy birthday! I was filming nearby and skipped lunch. Finley didn't want me to starve, so he invited me. You don't mind, right?" Claire's lips parted, but before she could get a word out, the waiter appeared, serving plates. Renee lit up. "Wow, all my favorite foods! I'm starving. Hope you don't mind if I dive in!" She didn't wait for permission, grabbing a fork and tearing into the meal with zero hesitation. Finley watched her, his face softening. "Of course, they're all your favorites. I ordered them just for you. Take your time." "Thanks, Finley! You're the best!" Renee beamed, then threw in, "Love you!" A second later, she backtracked, glancing at Claire with a quick, practiced laugh. "Oops! Sorry, Claire. Habit. I say it to my fans all the time. You're cool with it, right?" Chapter 7 "Why would Claire mind?" Finley said. "She knows exactly what kind of relationship we have." He stood and grabbed a napkin, gently wiping the corner of Renee's lips. "You little glutton, how do you still eat like a messy kid?" A wave of nausea hit Claire so hard, she had to look away. "I'm not feeling well," she muttered. "I'm heading home." Finley glanced at her, a flicker of concern crossing his face. "Is it the baby again? This little one really doesn't behave, huh?" For a split second, Claire thought he might walk her out. Instead, he said, "If you're not feeling well, go ahead. I'll come back after Renee finishes eating." She stared at him, biting back the bitter laugh bubbling in her throat. Even pregnant, she came second to Renee. Suddenly, the fire alarm blared. People started shouting, "Fire! Run!" Before Claire could react, the crowd surged toward the exits, the restaurant erupting into chaos. Her mind blanked for a moment. Instinctively, her eyes searched for Finley. But she saw was him scooping Renee into his arms, rushing toward the exit without so much as a glance back. It turned out to be a false alarm—just someone smoking in the bathroom. People trickled back to their tables, shaking off the scare like it was nothing. Including Finley and Renee. Renee leaned into him dramatically, her arms wrapped around his. "Finley, that was terrifying! Thank goodness you were there!" Finley smiled softly, running his fingers through her hair. "I told you—I'll always protect you." Claire stared at Finley, disappointment hitting her like ice water, sharp and numbing. It twisted her stomach as the memories flooded back—three years ago, that stupid hike. Renee was about to leave for some trip abroad, and Finley insisted they all go together. Halfway up the trail, Renee pulled Claire aside, pretending to have something urgent to say. Instead, she picked a fight. Then, like it was scripted, she threw herself down the path in a dramatic tumble. When Finley showed up, he didn't ask a single question. He just started yelling, accusing her of pushing Renee. Later, on the way down, a monkey jumped out. Claire froze, cornered and too stunned to move. Finley didn't notice—he was too busy shielding Renee, holding her like she was made of glass. That was when Claire got it. She wasn't his priority. She never had been. Back at the table, Renee strutted over, her hand flying to her mouth in fake shock. "Oh no, Claire! We completely forgot about you. Are you okay? Why didn't you run?" Only then did Finley glance her way. Guilt flickered across his face as he walked over, taking her hand. "Claire, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. It's just... Renee's a celebrity. She can't afford to get hurt—" "I get it," Claire cut him off, her voice calm. Too calm. She'd heard this excuse one too many times. "You're not mad at me, are you?" Finley asked. Claire slipped her hand from his and forced a faint smile. "No." "Claire, you're amazing." He seemed almost impressed—like he expected her to fight back or make a scene. Instead, she didn't even flinch. "Don't worry," he promised. "I swear I'll never ignore you again." She dropped her gaze. Promises, she realized, were just another kind of lie. Then Renee started coughing. "Renee, what's wrong?" Finley rushed to her side. "Are you okay?" "My throat... That lamb—it's making me feel... ugh, so scratchy." Finley turned back to Claire, his concern for Renee all over his face. "She's not feeling well. I'll take her home first." Claire nodded. "Go ahead." "Good girl." He kissed her forehead like she was a kid before rushing off to support Renee as they left together. Chapter 8 After a few steps, Finley glanced back. Claire was still standing where he'd left her, her small frame almost swallowed by the space around her. She looked so fragile, so alone. It hit him then—he'd promised her he wouldn't put Renee first anymore, but he'd failed. Every single time. Determined, he swore to himself he'd make it up to Claire. Once Finley and Renee were gone, Claire returned to her seat. A waiter appeared, carrying a two-tiered cake. "Miss, happy birthday. This cake was prepared by Mr. Lloyd," the waiter said, glancing around awkwardly when he noticed Finley wasn't there. Claire sat alone. "Just leave it, thanks." The waiter lit the candles and handed her a small doll as a gift. Claire closed her eyes, made a wish, and blew out the candles. She didn't wish for herself. She wished for her baby—to be reborn into a family filled with love, where happiness wasn't something fragile and fleeting. She took a bite of the cake. It was sweet, but all she could taste was bitterness. Not long after, her phone buzzed. Raoul. "The divorce papers are ready," he told her. "You can sign whenever you're ready." Claire didn't hesitate. She went to his office, reviewed the documents, and signed with a steady hand. Raoul watched her, his curiosity finally breaking through. "Mrs. Lloyd, you and Mr. Lloyd have a child. Everyone knows how much you love him. Why divorce now?" Claire's smile was faint. "It's Ms. Carlson now. Finley and I have no connection anymore," she said, sidestepping the question. "Oh, and Raoul, make sure you personally deliver these to him tomorrow. Once he's signed, let me know so I can give you an address to mail the finalized papers." "Does Mr. Lloyd even know about this? What if he doesn't agree?" Claire chuckled softly. "He'll agree. Trust me, he's probably been waiting for this. But if not? I'll sign another set. He'll get the hint eventually." "Understood. I'll take care of it." "Thanks." With that, Claire went home. The house was empty. No surprise—Finley hadn't come back. She grabbed a suitcase and started packing. Emma noticed Claire packing, curiosity written all over her face. "Mrs. Lloyd, why are you packing? Are you going somewhere?" "Just leaving for a few days," she said, keeping it vague. In reality, her ticket to the Maldives was already booked. The ocean was calling her—the one promise Finley never kept, she'd keep for herself. "Does Mr. Lloyd know?" "He doesn't need to." After finishing, Claire carefully placed her prenatal records, ultrasound images, and the hospital report from her miscarriage into a small box. It would be her last "gift" to Finley. Part of her wondered what he'd feel when he opened it. Regret? Guilt? Sadness? But none of it mattered. The baby was gone, and no reaction from him could change that. She handed the box to Emma. "Give this to Finley tomorrow morning." Emma frowned, confused. "Why not wait and give it to him yourself?" "I won't be here," Claire said simply, a faint smile tugging at her lips. Why wasn't she staying? Because she couldn't stand to see him again—not now, not ever. As the plane to the Maldives soared into the sky, a wave of relief and joy washed over her. So this was what it felt like to let go of someone who didn't love you. It felt amazing.