Martin Taylor Charles Facebook ad: “Moon River”

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The first thing her husband's first love did after coming back, was make a cruel bet with Claire. If Alexander abandoned Claire for her nine times, Claire would have to agree to a divorce, be exiled from the Sterling family, and her social status would be completely ruined. Claire said yes. On the ninth time, all it took was one phone call from his first love, and Alexander was ready to leave her stranded on the Long Island Expressway again. "Claire, it's an emergency. Can you head out and take a Uber home?" He paid no mind to the pouring rain outside, didn't even wait for her reply, shoved an umbrella into her hand, and could think of nothing but seeing Vanessa. "Text me when you get home." When Claire watched him type Vanessa's Upper East Side apartment address into google map, a sharp pain shot through her chest. The Aston Martin sped away, and in seconds, the slashing rain soaked the hem of her dress. The bitter night wind whipped at her face, and Claire couldn't help shivering. She walked alone through the storm, her red-soled heels rubbing her feet raw until they bled. Five hours later, she finally made it back to their Hampton estate. Her dress was stained deep crimson with blood. She clutched her cramping abdomen, collapsed to the ground, and struggled to breathe. Rain blurred her vision. Through the mist, she saw Vanessa walking over with an umbrella, a triumphant smile on her face. "Does it hurt? Regret playing this game with me yet? Still expecting him to love you? Don't be silly, Claire. I snap my fingers, and your pitiful marriage would falls apart." Claire staggered to her feet, her pale face as calm as a frozen lake. "That was the ninth time. You won. As you wish, my lawyer will contact Alexander to discuss the divorce." ... She stumbled toward the house, memories pouring down like the storm. Claire and Vanessa had been roommates at Columbia University. Claire first met Alexander at Vanessa's freshman year birthday party at a fraternity. One look, and she was drawn to his cool, noble aura-the hallmark of an old-money East Coast heir. Her heart raced. That day, Vanessa introduced Alexander as her childhood best friend, then immediately announced her new boyfriend-a rebellious street racer from Brooklyn. Claire still remembered the shock, pain, and utter loss on Alexander's face. She knew at once he was in love with Vanessa. But Vanessa always craved excitement. She preferred rebellious bad boys who skipped class, raced cars, and partied in nightclub corners with her. She had no interest in Alexander's stuffy, old-money gentleman ways. She called him controlling. To get rid of him for good-and knowing Claire had a crush on him-Vanessa orchestrated a string of "accidental" meetings and dinners, seizing every chance to set them up. Claire watched it all: Alexander's initial resistance, humiliation, numb acceptance, and final surrender. By their junior year, as Vanessa wanted, they became a couple. Two years later, Alexander proposed. For three years, their marriage was a picture of mutual respect. Their life was calm and warm, and to the outside world, they were New York's perfect couple. Claire thought they'd grow old together like this. Until a month earlier, when Vanessa returned from Europe, invited her for afternoon tea, and proposed the cruel bet. "Claire, I regret it. I want Alexander back. You've known each other nine years, right? Let's bet nine times. If he leaves you for me nine times, you lose. Divorce him and give him back to me." For some reason, Claire agreed. She wanted to know if Vanessa still held a place in his heart. And so, she watched Alexander run to Vanessa over and over again. The first time was their third wedding anniversary. Knowing he loved astronomy, she booked a luxury campsite in the Adirondacks to watch the meteor shower with him. But he turned the car around mid-drive after one WhatsApp message from Vanessa, leaving her alone in the subzero Adirondack cold all night. The second time, she needed emergency appendix removal. The night before surgery, he vanished suddenly to rescue Vanessa from a bar in Lower Manhattan, where she was being harassed by men. He was gone for a week. Claire signed the consent form alone. Hospital rules required a caregiver for patients under general anesthesia, so she had to hire a temporary nurse to take her home. She survived on cold sandwiches from the hospital cafeteria. The third time was her grandmother's funeral. Halfway through the service, he left abruptly to have French dinner with Vanessa... Every time he abandoned her, a little more of Claire's love for him died. All these years, he'd not only kept a place for Vanessa in his heart-he'd never forgotten her. This time, she lost completely. She accepted defeat. Back home, she took a hot shower, changed into comfortable loungewear, poured herself a glass of water, swallowed two strong painkillers, and placed a heating pad on her abdomen. After a long while, Claire finally felt like herself again. She pulled out the divorce papers her lawyer had prepared long ago, signed her name, and pushed them toward Vanessa. "You can take these to him for his signature." Vanessa raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Why me?" "I don't want to waste time explaining why we're divorcing. If the agreement comes from you, he'll sign without hesitation." Hearing this, Vanessa smiled in satisfaction, accepted the offer, and feigned comfort, "Alright. Don't be too sad. I'll take you to a bar in a few days. I promise you'll find someone hotter." "Sounds nice." The ease of her reply surprised Vanessa. "You agree? You've let go of Alexander that fast?" Claire let out a bitter chuckle. "I gave him the best years of my life, and all I got was garbage. I gave him nine chances, and he made me lose everything. If I can't let go now, I'm a fool. From now on, I live for myself. I'll find a life that's truly mine." As soon as she finished speaking, the door opened. Alexander, who'd just returned, froze at the sight of Vanessa. "Vanessa? What are you doing here?" Vanessa didn't bother explaining her sprained ankle was fake. She just smiled, picked up the papers, and walked toward him. "I came to see you. Sign here." Alexander's gaze never left her. He didn't even glance at the paper before signing where she pointed. Only after setting down the pen did he think to ask what it was. Vanessa was about to tell him the truth when an idea popped into her head. "This is a meaningful gift Claire and I prepared for you. You'll find out in a month. Don't worry, it'll be a surprise!" 2:2 Alexander's curiosity piqued, he was about to check, but Vanessa handed the agreement back to Claire and stood up to leave. "That's all for tonight. I'm heading back. Good night." Alexander's curiosity faded, replaced by concern. "I'll drive you back to your apartment in the Range Rover." Vanessa swung her car keys, glanced at Claire meaningfully. "No need. You should spend more time with Claire. You don't have much time left with her anyway." What did she mean, "not much time left"? Alexander frowned, about to ask, but she'd already opened the door. He grabbed his keys instinctively, called over his shoulder hurriedly, and followed her out. "Claire, I'll walk Vanessa out, be right back." The door clicked shut. From the moment he walked in to the moment he left, Alexander never looked at Claire once. She was used to it. Claire felt no sadness. She just took the agreement and went back to her room. She turned off the lights and slowly fell asleep. Half an hour later, noise outside woke her. A moment later, the lights flipped on. Claire blinked awake groggily and saw Alexander open the nightstand drawer and put in several boxes of condoms. Then he pulled her into his arms, warm breath fanning her ear. "You used to wait up for me every night. Why did you go to bed early tonight?" That was the old me. Never again. Claire thought silently, making up an excuse. "My menstrual cramps are terrible. I feel awful." Guilt washed over Alexander as he remembered leaving her stranded on the Long Island Expressway. "I'm sorry, I forgot." "Even if you'd remembered, would you have stayed?" Her question left Alexander speechless. After a long silence in the room, he whispered in explanation, "I'm sorry, Claire. Vanessa sprained her ankle, and she's always been scared of pain. That's why I rushed over. I promise it won't happen again." But this was the ninth time. A self-mocking smile tugged at Claire's lips. "Right, it definitely won't happen again." After all, their divorce would be finalized soon. The next morning, Claire woke up to find a cup of hot tea on the nightstand. Alexander walked in with a plate of oatmeal and fried eggs. "Claire, drink the tea, then come eat breakfast." Before Vanessa came back, this had been Claire's daily routine. Back then, she'd thought this was love. That was why she'd taken the bet with Vanessa. But she'd lost, and lost badly. This time, Claire didn't smile like usual. She stood up and pulled a sweater from the closet. "No thanks. I'm not hungry. I'm going out later. You eat." After getting ready, she grabbed her bag. As she headed for the door, Alexander picked up his coat and insisted on driving her. Claire had no words, so she agreed. As soon as she got in the car, she noticed the St. Christopher medal from St. Patrick's Cathedral hanging on the rearview mirror was replaced with a cute keychain. The dashboard was lined with limited-edition Jellycat plushies. Alexander noticed her gaze and hurried to explain, "I left the window open yesterday, and all the old things got soaked. My assistant had them replaced when she sent the car for cleaning." Was it really his assistant? Claire knew Vanessa was obsessed with those dolls, she had a whole room full of them. She didn't call him out on his lie, simply asking, "Where's my St. Christopher medal? I bought it on Fifth Avenue to keep us safe. Can I have it back?" Alexander's expression froze for a second. "The assistant threw it away. I'll have her look for it." Listening to him lie further, Claire just felt tired. "If it's thrown away, forget it. I don't want it anymore." He looked surprised. "Really?" Claire nodded gently. "I don't want it." The medal. This marriage. Him. She'd had enough of it all. When they reached Lower Manhattan, Claire headed straight for the SoHo House VIP lounge. The room was full of people. Her Columbia alumni greeted her warmly. "Claire, here alone? Is Alexander too busy with his venture capital firm?" Before she could reply, Vanessa, sitting in the middle of the group, chimed in casually. "He has a board meeting until eleven this morning, then a partner meeting on Wall Street this afternoon. He's swamped." She knew Alexander's schedule inside out, and everyone was impressed, teasing her. "Childhood sweethearts really know each other best. You even know his minute-by-minute schedule." 3:3 Vanessa swirled her martini, a faint smile on her lips. "Not really. He told me himself last night when he drove me back to my apartment." "You two are still so close! Growing up together on the Gold Coast, that bond is special. Luckily Claire understands you and knows about your history with Alexander. Anyone else would be jealous knowing he used to follow you around in prep school." "Claire's the wife of a VC managing partner, her life is perfect. Besides, Vanessa set them up-why would she be jealous? And honestly, if Vanessa wanted Alexander, they'd be together already. Everyone knows Alexander does whatever she says!" Hearing this, Vanessa grew even more smug. "Yeah, it's funny when I think about it. I told him to go chase Claire at an Ivy League mixer, and he did. I even had to egg him on to propose on the big screen in Times Square. He finally figured out he should put a ring on it. If you didn't know better, you'd think I forced him." Claire's heart clenched. She'd always thought Alexander proposed because he'd finally fallen for her devotion. But now she knew. Even their marriage, the ultimate fantasy of middle-class America, was just another elaborate scam orchestrated by Vanessa. In that moment, she felt like she couldn't breathe. The conversation in the room continued, but she couldn't take it anymore. She made an excuse and headed to the bathroom. After calming down, she returned to find everyone playing truth or dare. Vanessa had just lost and picked a "truth" card. "Name the person who's pursued you the longest, and give examples." Claire's lashes fluttered as the card's words were read aloud, and she looked away. Vanessa smiled as she recalled, "This guy chased me at the country club when we were seven, almost twenty years now. As a teenager, he gave me his family's antique Tiffany brooch and said I was the only girl he ever loved. Every time he saw me with a new boyfriend, he'd get dead drunk at an underground bar in Brooklyn for days, almost ruining his liver. Oh right, when I studied in Paris, he flew first class every week just to bring me Ladurée macarons..." Every detail sent a storm raging through Claire's heart. She thought of their Hampton wedding. Alexander's mother had told him to give her the family brooch, but he said he'd lost it. She remembered him coming home to their penthouse drunk at times, blaming it on wining and dining Wall Street bigwigs. She'd foolishly handed him Gatorade and aspirin. She remembered his constant "business trips" around Thanksgiving and Christmas. She'd pack his Louis Vuitton suitcase full of healthy snacks from Whole Foods. She'd loved him with all her heart, while he'd chased his unattainable dream girl, never letting go. And she'd had no idea. The pain was almost suffocating. The room of investment bankers and Ivy League alumni murmured in awe. "Vanessa, who is he? Do we know him? He loves you so much-you must be with him! Bring him to our next yacht party on the island!" Vanessa glanced at Claire triumphantly, smirking, "Of course. I'll introduce him at the Halloween party next month." Just then, the VIP lounge door opened, and Alexander walked in with a smile. "Introduce who? Why wait until next month? Vanessa, are you done? I thought we were going to the symphony at Lincoln Center..." His gaze landed on Claire, and his voice trailed off. Surprise and panic flashed across his face. "Claire, what are you doing here?" Claire remembered Alexander dropping her off on Fifth Avenue that morning, saying he had a meeting with Silicon Valley investors until midnight, telling her not to wait up. So his "meeting" was a date with Vanessa at Lincoln Center? She gave a silent, bitter smile and met his eyes. "As you can see, I'm at a Columbia alumni event." He nodded quickly and changed the subject. "Great. I'll drive you back to the apartment." Claire pulled out her iPhone and calmly called an Uber Black. "No thanks. I'll take a ride. You two enjoy the symphony." 4:4 With that, Claire grabbed her bag and headed downstairs. As she reached the Lexington Avenue, Vanessa chased after her and grabbed her arm. "Are you crazy? Here, the symphony tickets. It's only a month until the divorce is final. You should keep some good memories, or you'll regret it when you're old." Claire pulled her hand away, stepped back, her expression cold. "No thanks. After the divorce, I want to forget the past. There's nothing worth remembering between us." "Don't say that. Even though Alexander was with you because I set you up, you saved me a lot of trouble. It's bad enough you never got his love-don't you want the nice memories of that perfect American marriage? I'd be too cruel." Vanessa kept pulling at her, feigning sympathy, refusing to let go. They were so focused on their argument that they didn't notice a Ford pickup truck speeding toward them. By the time the driver honked frantically and they turned to look, it was too late to dodge. In an instant, Alexander lunged forward, grabbed Vanessa, and pulled her to the pedestrian island in the middle of the street. Claire was thrown sixty feet by the impact, slamming into the sidewalk. A sickening thud echoed, blood pouring from her nose and mouth, pooling on the asphalt. She felt like every bone in her body was broken, twitching in agony. Pain. So much pain. As her consciousness faded, the last thing she saw was Alexander comforting the terrified Vanessa. Some time later, searing pain jolted Claire awake. She opened her eyes to a private room at Mount Sinai Hospital. The first face she saw was Alexander's worried one. "Claire, how are you? You've been unconscious for two days. Did you know how worried I was?" Claire looked at his anxious expression, remembering what happened before she passed out. It was absurd. In a life-or-death moment, he hadn't chosen to save her. When she lay in a pool of blood, he hadn't even noticed how badly she was hurt. He'd never cared about her. How could he be worried? She took a shallow breath, her voice hoarse. "I'm fine. Go take care of Vanessa." Alexander froze, thinking she was angry he hadn't saved her. He hurried to explain. "Vanessa's fine. You're the one who's hurt badly. Of course I'm staying to take care of you." Claire shook her head, said she was tired, and closed her eyes to pretend to rest. Alexander didn't push it. He tucked her in, poured her a glass of ice water, and ordered her favorite chicken noodle soup from a nearby restaurant. Then he took a call, said there was an emergency at the Wall Street board meeting, and left, promising to come back the next day. When the nurse checked on her and saw the water and soup, she gushed about how lucky Claire was to have such a perfect, caring husband. Claire said nothing. As she was about to open the soup, her phone vibrated. It was an iMessage from Vanessa. "So sorry! That truck gave me PTSD, so I texted Alexander. He's having brunch with me now. Then he's taking me to Coney Island to relax, and we're going to the movies later. Just rest at the hospital, okay?" Attached was a photo of a Michelin-starred seafood restaurant. The table was covered in expensive, exquisite food. Across the table, Alexander's hand was expertly peeling a bowl of Maine lobster-Vanessa's favorite. Claire stared at the photo for a moment, then replied with two words. "Have fun." For the next week, Alexander visited the hospital once a day, staying about ten minutes each time before leaving. Like clockwork, Vanessa sent updates via iMessage and Instagram, documenting their every move. He took her to Montauk to watch the sunset, spelling their names in seashells on the sand. He drove her through the North Fork in a Porsche convertible, buying her flowers and balloons like a child. He took her on a hot air balloon ride over Napa Valley, taking thousands of photos with his Leica. Everything he did was carefully planned-more than friends, less than lovers. A gray area, deeper than friendship, shallower than romance. These were things Alexander had never done for Claire during their relationship. The difference between being loved and not loved was painfully clear. Claire was again glad she'd agreed to the bet. After her final checkup, the doctor handed her a prescription and hospital bill. "You're all set. Have your husband settle the insurance bill and check you out. Don't forget to pick up your meds at CVS." Claire took the papers, her voice flat as water. "He's not my husband. We're divorced." The next second, her room door burst open. Alexander walked in, shocked. "Divorced? What do you mean, divorced?" 5:5 Claire jumped at his sudden appearance. "Nothing. I just said you weren't here at the hospital these past few days." Seeing her calm face, Alexander dropped the subject. "I've been swamped with a big AI merger with a Silicon Valley company. Working overtime nonstop, so I couldn't stay with you." Claire listened to him lie effortlessly, her eyes narrowing slightly. "If you're that busy, you don't have to come. I can take care of myself." She meant it, but Alexander thought she was angry. "It's all my fault. Work's mostly done now. I'll spend time with you." He insisted on taking her back to their Upper East Side apartment, even having his assistant bring over a pile of designer bags for her to choose from. Looking at the rows of Hermès Birkin bags and Chanel classics, Claire refused calmly. When she said she didn't like the options, Alexander quickly arranged new ones. "How about something else? What do you like? Cartier jewelry? Haute couture gowns? I'll buy everything. You'll like something." Claire felt nothing for the status symbols of Manhattan's elite. For three years, he'd given her countless gifts for holidays and anniversaries. Her closet was stuffed with branded luxury goods, more like a Fifth Avenue warehouse than a personal closet. She'd once thought it was his way of showing he cared. So even if she wasn't interested, she'd smile and accept, playing the elegant American socialite. But today, hearing him admit he had no idea what she liked, she finally understood. He just couldn't be bothered to think. As long as the price was high enough, he thought it couldn't be wrong. So this time, Claire was direct. "I don't need anything. Stop buying me these things. It's too much trouble for you." Alexander had never heard her speak like this, and an inexplicable panic washed over him. "You're my wife, it's my duty to give you gifts-how is it trouble?" What if she wasn't his wife anymore? "How sad, Alexander," she thought. "You still don't know you signed the divorce papers." For the next few days, Alexander stayed home instead of going to Wall Street. Claire slowly started packing her things. Unused Estée Lauder cosmetics, clothes, the Tom Ford suits and shaving kits she'd bought him, matching Yeti tumblers, photo frames... Alexander was surprised to see her clearing out so much. He was about to ask what was wrong when Vanessa called. Alexander forgot his question instantly, answered the phone, and walked away. Claire saw the name on the screen. She knew he was going to see Vanessa again. After he left, she threw all the packed items down the apartment's trash chute. As soon as she finished, Alexander's personal assistant called. "Ms. Claire, you need to come to the underground racing club in Queens right away! Mr. Alexander is in trouble!" Claire frowned at the usually calm assistant's panicked tone. She grabbed her bag, hailed a taxi, and searched the club on her phone. It was an illegal street racing spot. Alexander was supposed to be with Vanessa, wasn't he? Why was he at a racetrack suddenly? When she arrived and saw the tattooed man standing opposite Alexander, everything made sense. Travis, Vanessa's college boyfriend from Brooklyn. He liked drinking, smoking, fighting, and racing. She'd heard from fraternity members that Travis still harassed Vanessa occasionally after their breakup. Looks like he'd caused trouble for his ex again. She was right. Travis threw a racing suit at Alexander's feet. "Vanessa never liked stuck-up Wall Street guys like you. She loves adventure, excitement! If you really want to protect her, race me. Loser never sees Vanessa again!" 6:6 Alexander picked up the racing suit, his face cold. "I'm in." His friends, a group of wealthy heirs, hurried to stop him. "Alexander, he's been racing on these streets for years! You've never raced on an amateur track. You can't win! Don't throw your life away!" "Yeah, man, you're married! You don't have to do this for Vanessa! What if something happens to you, what about Claire?" But Alexander ignored them completely. He tuned out Claire's name entirely, staring deeply at Vanessa. "I won't lose. I can give her the excitement she wants." Claire clenched her fists involuntarily at his heroic, cowboy-like declaration. His friends saw her and rushed over, begging her to talk sense into him. They pushed her toward the prep room. Standing at the door, Claire's heart heavy. She knew nothing about racing, but she knew Alexander didn't stand a chance. Racing a professional street racer like that was suicide. He might not even leave the track alive. Even though she'd decided to let him go, she couldn't stand by and watch him die. After a moment's thought, she raised her hand to push the door open. Just then, Vanessa stepped out. Seeing Claire, she wore a mocking, meaningful smile. "Here to beg Alexander to quit? Save your breath-he won't listen to you." "Do you know how much he loves me? Once, I joked I wanted to escape this life, and he took a private jet to Las Vegas with me without a second thought. His family froze all his trust funds when they found out, but he never gave up on me. In prep school, he'd tear up all the jocks' love letters to me, bully them until they transferred. He even fought someone at a fraternity party for me, ended up in the hospital covered in blood. To him, you're just a backup, a replacement. Do you really think he'd give me up for you?" Vanessa's eyes shone with unbridled triumph, every word a dagger in Claire's heart. "He loves you that much-what about you? If you're choosing him, why don't you stop him, knowing he'll lose, even die?" Vanessa laughed like Claire'd told the funniest joke in the world, her face the perfect picture of a mean cheerleader's sarcasm. "Why would I stop him? Don't you think it's thrilling to watch a man abandon all his principles for you, do anything like a superhero? Now that I've chosen him, I want to see if he really loves me enough to die for me. It's a great test, don't you think? Of course you wouldn't understand. Alexander would never risk his life for you." Her words hit Claire like a ton of bricks, twisting her heart into knots. She tried to say something, anything, but couldn't speak. Seeing her expression, Vanessa picked up Claire's iPhone and dialed Alexander. "Since you still won't accept it, I'll prove it to you one more time. Call him, tell him you got into a car accident and are in the ER. See if he'll quit the race for you." The ringtone echoed down the hallway. A moment later, he answered. "Claire, I'm handling an urgent merger. Whatever it is, we'll talk when I'm back in Manhattan." He hung up before she could say a word. After the screen went dark, Claire's hand, suspended in midair, fell limply to her side. She bowed her head, a helpless smile on her lips, and whispered two words. "You win." 7:7 On the winding asphalt track, two heavily modified race cars fought for the lead, neither giving an inch. Claire stood in the stands, eyes fixed on the speedometer on the screen. Alexander pushed his car to the limit, but he couldn't shake Travis, who toyed with him, speeding up and slowing down effortlessly, infuriatingly. Even a novice could see Travis was in complete control, deliberately taunting him. Alexander ignored the taunts and slammed on the gas on the final lap. Even at full speed, his Porsche couldn't close the growing gap to Travis's muscle car. Then, every turn, Travis deliberately drifted wide to let Alexander close in, then pulled away again. It was pure humiliation. Everyone knew Alexander would lose. They sighed in defeat. Claire picked up her bag and prepared to leave. Seconds later, a collective hysterical scream erupted from the crowd behind her. She turned just in time to see Alexander's black Porsche swerve sharply on the final turn and crash into Travis's car. In an instant, the white muscle car had to veer sharply to avoid a head-on collision, flying off the track. Alexander seized the chance and crossed the finish line. But his victory came at a terrible cost. Unable to slow down, he crashed head-on into a concrete barrier. The car flipped, the front end disintegrating on impact, bursting into flames. The entire crowd gasped in horror. No one expected the stiff Wall Street executive to be crazy enough to win that way. Even Vanessa, who'd looked bored, screamed and ran onto the track. At the sight of her, bloodied Alexander staggered out of the wreckage. He led her to Travis's crashed car, raised her hand high in the universal champion gesture. "You lost! Never go near Vanessa again for the rest of your life!" In the nine years she'd known him, Alexander had always been calm, reserved, steady as a rock. This was the first time Claire saw him so wild, so raw, so much like a real Brooklyn fighter. It would be the last. Amid the thunderous cheers, she turned and left without a word. This time, there was no going back. Alexander didn't come home that night. He just sent an iMessage saying he was on a business trip to Silicon Valley for a week. Minutes later, Vanessa sent a photo of Alexander and his friends celebrating at a nightclub, popping champagne. "Alexander says that win got him hyped-he's taking me to Aspen to ski to celebrate." Claire replied with an "OK" emoji. She used the time to pack her bags and map out a detailed road trip along California's Highway 1 on her MacBook. Once the plan was done, she booked a first-class ticket to San Francisco. Delta called to confirm her flight. She listened carefully, then repeated, "Yes, that's right. One ticket to San Francisco, in one week..." "One ticket? Where are you going?" Claire turned at the sound of Alexander's voice, realizing he'd come home without her noticing. She avoided his questioning gaze, hung up the phone, and answered truthfully. "Vacation on the West Coast, just sightseeing." Alexander nodded, didn't ask further. He handed her a beautifully wrapped luxury gift box. "Claire, you said you didn't want jewelry or bags, so I picked out a custom Le Labo fragrance for you. See if you like it." Claire opened it, smelled it symbolically, then set it down. "I like it." Her cold response surprised him. He stepped closer, pulled her gently into his arms, his voice full of concern. "What's wrong with you lately? I was in Aspen for ages, and you didn't send me a single message. Are you mad?" Claire was surprised he'd noticed while he was with Vanessa. But then she remembered she used to share every little detail of her day with him-a flower she saw, a celebrity gossip tweet. For three years, he'd been bombarded with messages from a woman he didn't love. Of course he'd notice when they stopped. Realizing that, she no longer found it strange. She didn't answer, and Alexander thought she was really upset. He leaned in to kiss her. But Claire, uncharacteristically, pushed him away and walked into the bathroom. "I have a migraine." Alexander stared at her back, stunned. She seemed to be feeling unwell a lot lately. 8:8 The next night, Alexander announced he'd prepared a surprise, then took Claire out. When they reached the restaurant in Midtown Manhattan, the maitre d' led them straight to a private room on the top floor. The moment the door opened, Claire's eyes widened. The room was filled with flowers and candles. Alexander smiled and pulled out her chair. "Claire, do you like it?" Claire sat down, silent for a moment. Alexander ordered a table of her favorite dishes. When the food arrived, he even cut the Wellington steak himself and placed it on her plate. All night, he kept the conversation going, reminiscing about their time at Columbia. "Remember when we first started dating? You used to go to macroeconomics class with me every day. The professor always called on you. He even asked me once why I was the one who usually attended, but you were there now..." Claire was unsettled by his sudden attentiveness. "What's wrong with you today?" "I noticed you've been down lately, I wanted to cheer you up. And there's another surprise." He glanced at his Rolex, then pulled back the floor-to-ceiling curtain. Claire turned just as a series of loud bangs echoed outside. Thousands of fireworks shot into the sky, bursting into a dazzling, brilliant display over the Hudson River. Claire froze when she saw them form a giant heart in the sky. "Did you arrange all this?" Before Alexander could answer, the room door burst open. Vanessa and a group of Upper East Side socialites strode in, one snapping photos with a Polaroid camera. "Claire, are you happy with tonight's date? This is my surprise for you. Isn't it romantic?" Hearing Vanessa's triumphant tone, Claire's complicated expression darkened. She turned to Alexander, asked again, her voice trembling. "Did you arrange this?" Alexander didn't notice the change in her voice, shook his head, and smiled at Vanessa. "No, it was Vanessa's idea. Why?" Vanessa smiled in satisfaction. "That's right. I heard Alexander stood you up on your anniversary, so I suggested this. The Michelin-starred restaurant, flowers, candles, truffle dishes, fireworks over the river-all my idea, to make it a night you'll never forget. Oh

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Moon River

The first thing her husband's first love did after coming back, was make a cruel bet with Claire. If Alexander abandoned Claire for her nine times, Claire would