The Wife he threw Away (Claire and Lucian) novel Chapter 286

“Claire?”

Lucian’s voice cut through the fog.

I looked at up him, even though my vision was a little blurry.

“What happened?”

“Nothing.” I lied. Because what else could I say?

My voice sounded weaker than I’d intended.

“Sit down.”

I obeyed.

“You were about to fall.” He observed.

“I wasn’t.” I lied again.

Lucian raised a brow.

I sighed. “Okay. Maybe I was a little dizzy.”

His expression immediately became serious.

“Are you sick?” He asked, as he put his palm against the side of my neck, checking my temperature.

“No.”

“Then what is it?”

“I don’t know.”

He reached for my hand.

His palm was warm against mine.

“Do you want to go upstairs?”

I shook my head.

“I just need the bathroom.”

“I’ll come with you.”

I stared at him.

“To the bathroom?”

“Yes.”

I laughed despite myself.

“Absolutely not.”

“Claire—”

“I’ll be fine.”

He hesitated.

I squeezed his hand.

“Five minutes.”

His eyes narrowed.

“You’d better come back.”

“Yes, sir.”

I stood slowly.

This time, I waited until the dizziness disappeared before taking a step.

Then another.

I walked inside.

I reached the bathroom and closed the door.

Then I leaned against it.

My heart was beating strangely fast.

I stared at myself in the mirror.

I looked—

Normal.

Maybe a little tired.

Nothing else.

I splashed cold water onto my face.

“Get yourself together.”

I whispered it to my reflection.

I reached for the towel.

Then stopped.

My eyes fell to my handbag.

For several seconds, I simply stared at it.

There was something inside.

Something I’d bought two days ago.

Something I had sworn I wasn’t going to use.

A pregnancy test.

I’d bought it after Camilla’s suggestion.

Against my better judgment.

Against everything I’d told myself.

I’d shoved it into my handbag afterward and tried to forget about it.

But now—

My period was three weeks late.

I’d been nauseous.

Dizzy.

My breasts had been tender.

And I was tired in a way that sleep didn’t seem to fix.

I closed my eyes.

“No.”

The word came out as a whisper.

It couldn’t mean anything.

Stress could do strange things to the body.

The trial had exhausted me.

My sleep schedule was terrible.

I’d been working constantly.

There were a hundred explanations.

A thousand.

Anything but that.

Because I’d been here before.

So many times.

I remembered standing in bathrooms years ago with shaking hands.

Taking test after test.

Waiting.

Hoping.

Praying.

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