CLAIRE'S POV
That evening, Ethan arrived on schedule.
I was only wearing simple jeans and a white long-sleeved shirt. I did this deliberately—as a silent protest.
I knew he loved seeing a woman dressed elegantly. That was Isabella's style.
But I was done with it. I was done living in her shadow all these years.
When Ethan saw me in the living room, I immediately sensed the shift in his mood and expression. Well, I intended to piss him off.
"Why aren't you wearing the dress I picked out for you?" His tone was firm. "Sarah, what is this? Didn't Leo deliver it?” he barked at Sarah instead.
Sarah stood beside me, clearly nervous. So I was the one who answered him.
"The dress wasn’t sturdy. It tore apart," I said casually.
"How could it tear on its own?" His tone sounded unconvinced.
