I saw Nolan Mercer again during an interview at the MotoGP final. I was the feature reporter assigned to interview the World Champion of this year.   Nolan froze when he saw me, then frowned slightly. "I'm sorry. Have we met before?"   A sharp ache tightened my chest.   We had never met in person, but we had loved each other.   Back then, I had weighed 220 pounds, and our relationship had been entirely online.   I denied it without hesitation. "No. This is my first time doing an on-site MotoGP interview."

I saw Kane again at a MotoGP post-race interview. When he heard my voice, he frowned slightly and asked, "Your voice sounds familiar. Do we know each other?" I froze for a moment. Five years ago, he had crashed during the Isle of Torran and injured his eyes. My older sister, who was his fiancée, despised him for going blind. She gave me $100,000 and had me impersonate her to care for Kane while he was blind. After he regained his sight, my sister kicked me out, saying, "Now that Kane has recovered, it's time for you, the stand-in, to get out." Looking into his eyes, I came back to my senses. I denied it immediately, saying, "I'm just an intern. This is my first time interviewing you." Kane ran his thumb over the ring on his finger, giving me a meaningful look. "Is that right?" he asked.

After we married, I did everything I could to get pregnant, but month after month, nothing happened.   On our fourth wedding anniversary, I opened Owen Brooks's safe and found two documents. One was a vasectomy consent form. The other was a child support agreement between Owen and his first love, Natalie Foster. Under the agreement, Owen had promised Natalie 50 million dollars in cash, a five percent stake in his company, and two houses in highly rated school districts.   I, on the other hand, had been required to sign a prenuptial agreement before the wedding. Once we were married, Owen secretly took away my chance to become a mother.   For 4 years, he assured me that it didn't matter if we never had children. It wasn't that children didn't matter to him. He already had one with someone else.   "Who gave you permission to open my safe?"   I turned to the man in the doorway. I didn't argue or demand an explanation. I simply said, "Owen, I want a divorce."   Owen frowned, snatched the documents from my hands, and tore them to pieces.   "I didn't know she was pregnant until after I married you. I have a responsibility to that child. Claire, stop dwelling on the past."   He left the study without another glance at me.   I calmly called my attorney.