“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming to the nursing home?” Ethan asked again.
“I came to see my mom.
Why should I inform you?” Clara shot back, her tone sharp.
“Or do I need to report every time I visit my own mother now?”
This was clearly turning into a standoff.
“Yes, you do,” Ethan replied bluntly.
“So you’ve been coming to see her all this time, but it never occurred to you to bring me along to meet your mom?”
Clara had no comeback for that.
Because, honestly, that was exactly what she thought.
Then Ethan reached out, his long fingers catching her chin, forcing her to look at him.
“We’ve been married for three years, Clara.
For three years, I’ve been your secret husband.
You think that’s funny?” His voice was low but every word hit her like a punch.
Clara: “…”
Secret husband, my ass.
Seriously, who even says that with a straight face?
It was Ethan’s idea to keep her identity as Mrs.
Blackwood quiet in the first place.
Now he wanted to play the victim?
What a joke.
She’d seen shameless—Ethan redefined the word.
Clara took a deep breath, trying to come up with a response, but just as she opened her mouth, Ethan’s phone buzzed.
She stopped mid-sentence when she saw the caller ID: Fiona Barrington.
No surprise—Ethan picked up right away.
“Okay, I’ll be right there,” he said quickly.
He hung up and walked out without so much as a glance at Clara.
Totally different from how he was acting just moments ago.
Clara stood there, expression blank.
Men.
So fake.
And Ethan was the king of fakes.
But whatever, at least now he was gone and wouldn’t start more drama in front of Linda Walton.
Today, she had planned to settle a lot of things once and for all.
Taking another deep breath, she pushed the door open and stepped inside.
…
“Clara, you’re here,” Linda greeted warmly, clearly in good spirits.
“Yeah, I came by.
You seem happy today, Mom,” Clara said with a smile as she walked over.
“I am.
They made me some really tasty porridge earlier,” Linda chuckled, her eyes bright as she looked at her daughter.
Clara nodded and sat down, chatting casually with her mom.
They talked about all kinds of things.
Except anything remotely related to the Barringtons.
Then, Linda suddenly stared at Clara in a way that made her skin crawl a little. Enjoying the story? Read on at g.com.
Clara finally couldn’t take it.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Because my Clara is so pretty.
One day, you’ll find a man who truly cherishes you,” Linda said, full of emotion.
Clara went quiet, not replying.
“When you do, promise me you’ll bring him here to meet me,” Linda added gently.
“Okay.” Clara gave a small nod.
That seemed to ease Linda’s mind.
They talked for a while longer.
Then Linda noticed something.
“What’s wrong?
You seem distracted.
Something on your mind?”
Clara looked at her mom before slowly saying, “It’s nothing, really… just something I need to tell you.”
“Go ahead,” Linda encouraged with a nod.
“My company’s sending me abroad for some advanced training.
It’ll be about six months.
I can’t turn it down,” Clara said plainly.
“So I won’t be in River City for a while.
I’m just a little worried about leaving you here alone.”
Linda was caught off guard—she hadn’t expected Clara to bring this up.
But deep down, she understood.
Her illness had already taken a heavy toll on her daughter.Every cent here doesn’t come cheap.
Linda Walton took Clara Walton’s hand and spoke softly, “Clara, Mom just wants to ask you something.
Give me a straight answer, okay?”
“Go ahead, Mom,” Clara replied calmly.
Linda didn’t beat around the bush.
“All these years of hospital stays and surgeries—who’s been covering the bills?”
Clara paused, biting her lip like she was figuring out how to start.
“Back then, Mom wasn’t in the best mental state, so some things were kinda blurry.
But now that my head’s clear, I can’t just stay in the dark,” Linda said, dead serious.
Clara was just a low-level employee—no way she could afford all this on her own.
So once she calmed down, Linda naturally started wondering if there was something Clara was hiding.
“Mom, don’t overthink it.
I didn’t do anything shady,” Clara answered firmly.
“An old classmate helped out.
He’s actually the one who performed your surgery.”
Linda blinked, recalling the name Nathaniel Griffith.
Young, good-looking, and apparently a top-tier neurosurgeon—she did remember hearing about him before.
Clara gave her a simple explanation, and Linda finally nodded, seeming to understand.
“I’ll be paying everything back,” Clara said quietly.
“Does your classmate…
you know…
have feelings for you?” Linda suddenly asked.
“No, nothing like that.”
Linda didn’t press further, only adding, “People that generous these days are rare.
Since you owe him, pay it back.
I’ve got an apartment in the city—sell it and use the money.”
“Alright,” Clara agreed with a nod.
Linda looked wiped out after all that.
And Clara could tell—her mom had bought the story.
She called in a nurse, gave detailed instructions to have weekly updates sent to her.
If anything out of the ordinary happened, they were to call immediately.
The nurse took everything down.
Once she got Linda to sleep, Clara finally stood up and left the room.
But after the long talk, Clara felt completely drained.
Outside the rehab center, the bodyguard was still waiting.
Spotting Clara, he quickly got out and held the car door open.
“Madam, please.”
“Thanks,” Clara said politely.
Soon, the car was headed smoothly back to the villa.
Halfway through the ride, Clara’s phone buzzed unexpectedly.
It was an unknown number.
She frowned, figuring it was just a spam call.
But then it rang again right after she ignored it.
Spam calls don’t usually try twice, do they?
Clara frowned and picked up.
“Hello?
Who’s this?”
“Mrs.
Blackwood?
Mr.
Blackwood’s been in a car accident.
We need you at the hospital to sign some forms,” the voice on the other end said, urgent and clear.
“You mean…
Ethan Blackwood?” Clara double-checked.
There was a pause.
Nurse on the line definitely hadn’t seen such a reaction from a family member before.
But she quickly composed herself and confirmed, “Yes.”
“Alright.
I’m on my way,” Clara replied coolly.
No rushed tone, no panic—like Ethan’s life or death didn’t really concern her.
Aurelux nurses were pretty sharp; they knew what to say and what not to.
So she just said “okay” politely and hung up.
Clara looked over at the bodyguard.
“Go to the hospital.”
The bodyguard looked confused.
“Madam, are you feeling unwell?”
“It’s not for me,” Clara said flatly.
“It’s for your boss.”
“…Oh.”
Definitely not what he expected.