Rebirth Into My Second Chance

I spent the whole night beside the sofa, watching Claude, who didn't sleep for the night.

As dawn broke, Gabrielle called him. "Claude, any word from Claire yet? Every year for my birthday, she's up by five, insisting on making me the birthday cake. Do you think something's happened to her?"

In the Hart family, Gabrielle was the only one who'd worry if I'd run into trouble.

Year after year, I would get up early to bake a beautiful birthday cake for Gabrielle, wishing her a happy birthday each time.

It was just her last birthday. Tears welled up in her eyes as she ate her cake.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

She choked out. "Claire, the test results are back. Late-stage lung cancer. The doctors give me two years at most."

Cradling the plate, my hands nearly let go. "Mrs. Hart, you must be joking. We'll find the best doctors. Everything's going to be alright."

But Gabrielle shook her head. "I'm just scared. When I'm gone, no one will look after you, and Claude will be alone without a complete family to belong to."

The Hart family was small, with Claude braving through the years by himself.

The Hart family was originally in real estate and faced turmoil during the financial crisis. Claude took over, turning the tide and stabilizing Crestview Metropolis before venturing into a new realm in the legal field. Undeniably, he was a titan in the business world. I said, "Mrs. Hart, we should tell Claude. He'll take you to see the best doctors."

I had a feeling I knew what Gabrielle was hinting at. Since Kate returned from abroad, Gabrielle suggested I secure my place with Claude just in case Kate took him away.

But Gabrielle seemed to overlook one thing. If someone could take something away from me, it never truly belonged to me, nor would it be exclusively mine.

"Claire, I've always wanted to make it up to you. If your parents hadn't saved Claude, he wouldn't be where he is today. I've been searching for you since your orphanage days, finding you as soon as the media mentioned your location. I've grown fond of your grace and sensibility. Over the years, we've raised you as part of the Hart family. You're cherished and loved. Would you marry Claude for me?"

I was stunned Yet, thinking of how affectionately Kate and Claude were together made me feel insignificant. Of course, Kate's prominent family background, her loving parents, and the affection she received were what I envied. They were also what I felt unworthy of having.

I turned it down. "Mrs. Hart, I can't marry Claude. I don't love him."

I lovedContent bel0ngs to Nôvel(D)r/a/ma.Org.

At the time, I loved Claude deeply and wanted nothing more than to be with him. Yet, I still turned down Gabrielle and lied to her. I had always known that love, if forced, could never bring happiness

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"Impossible. I can tell you love Claude. Or is it that childhood friend in your heart?" Gabrielle's counter-question caught me off guard, and I nodded in a moment of weakness.

Perhaps my insecurities prevented

me from admitting my love for the dazzling, powerful Claude. I felt utterly inadequate to be with

I claimed I didn't love Claude

someone as remarkable as him. But

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That night, I found myself in his bed. Yes, Gabrielle had drugged both my milk and Claude's soup.

Claude loved soup, so I cooked it daily. That was why Claude believed I drugged him, intending to seduce him. His soup was always crafted by my hands alone, untouched by others.

By then, I remembered feeling feverish after drinking the milk, and my vision blurred. I fumbled in the dark when trying to find the stairway light.

Somehow, I went upstairs, room by room, unable to think clearly from the pain and swelling in my brain.

Finally, a door opened. Like a ghost drawn to the living, I found the bed's edge, desperate to strip off my stifling clothes and sleep off the heat.

Suddenly, arms pulled me close. The cool embrace was soothing, and I pressed closer. But I didn't realize this closeness would lead to a lifetime of regret.

A pair of hands helped remove my feverish clothes, even unclasping my bra and rubbing my warming breasts. It felt comforting, and though I tried to see who it was, my vision was blurred.

I murmured, reaching out to touch his face, barely seeing Claude's features.

For a moment, I thought I was dreaming. 'Claude, in my bed?'

"Claude?" But then, dismissing the thought, I waved it off. "Stop it, Richard. Get off my bed. Go away. It tickles."

A touch, maybe hair or a feather, brushed my nose, and I turned my face away, laughing.