Never Getting Her Back novel Chapter 2

Clara had been home for a solid half hour before Damon finally texted back. "Don't worry about it. Since you're the one who wants me to sign, there's no way it'll do me any harm."

It was just his way of saying he wasn't going to read it at all.

Of course, he wasn't—he was too busy rushing off to pick up Giselle, who'd had too much to drink. How would he have time to go over any documents?

Even though the papers were sitting right there, well within arm's reach.

…

It had rained all day without letting up. It only eased up by dusk the next evening.

Clara stayed inside the whole time. She quietly deleted every post on every platform where she'd shared details of her married life.

The moment she finished clearing out her Instagram, she noticed a new post from Giselle. There were shots of her lounging on a yacht, each one perfectly framed, featuring a man's long, slender hand.

Clara knew that hand belonged to Damon—and she also knew Giselle had posted it on purpose. But none of that mattered to her anymore.

She turned off her phone, got up, and headed to the kitchen to make herself a salad. Just as she was finishing up, Damon came home.

When she saw the cake in his hands, she froze for a second. "You don't even like sweets. What's with the cake?"

Damon walked over, glanced at her dinner, and frowned. "It's your birthday. Did you forget? Why are you eating something so plain?"

Clara was stunned.

When she was four or five, her parents split up and left her with her grandmother. By the time she was 15 or 16, her grandmother passed away. After that, no one looked after her, and birthdays stopped being a thing.

But in the three years she'd been married to Damon, he never forgot. No matter how busy he was, he always made it back to spend her birthday with her.

If Clara were coming back from a trip, he'd worry about her safety and pick her up at the airport. He'd pull her close and hold her if it stormed because he knew she was afraid of thunder.

Clara figured that kind of effortless care had to mean he had feelings for her.

Everything changed a month ago on their wedding anniversary when Damon used "company matters" as an excuse to cancel the candlelit dinner he'd booked ahead of time.

The truth was any affection Damon had ever given her wasn't really hers—it was just borrowed from Giselle, who happened to be out of the picture back then.

She had clung to that small taste of sweetness, foolishly believing it was hers to keep. But in reality, she had never truly had him—not even for a second.

So when Clara looked at the number 24 on the birthday cake, she felt nothing. She simply lowered her head politely and thanked him.

Damon lit the candles while giving her a soft smile. "Clara, we're married. You don't have to say 'thank you' like we're strangers. Make a wish."

She nodded. Just as she was about to stand, Damon's phone rang. She could guess who was calling from the slight hesitation in his eyes. So, she sat back down.

Sure enough, she was right. A minute later, he ended the call and walked out.

Clara let out a bitter smile as the sound of his car disappeared into the distance. She hadn't turned on any lights. The soft flicker of the candles cast her lone shadow against the wall.

Pressing her palms together, she made a wish for her 24th year. "This year, I'm done loving Damon Croft."