Chapter 4 - The Glass Gallery ReckoningI stepped out of the scrub sink room, wiping my hands on a sterile towel while the hot water of the locker room shower still steamed behind me. I had traded my bloody scrubs for a sharp, tailored charcoal pantsuit—an ironic mirror to the coat Ethan had worn in the town hall photo. My hair was pulled back into a sleek, severe chignon, and my face wore a mask of absolute, unyielding ice.
When I pushed open the heavy double doors leading into the family consultation wing, Ethan was waiting. He looked decimated. His tie was loose, his shirt collar unbuttoned, and dark shadows bruised the skin beneath his eyes. The moment he saw me, he stood up abruptly from the leather waiting room chair, taking two hurried steps forward.
“Claire. How is he? The nurse said you stabilized the arch—they said he’s stable in ICU—”
“Your father is alive because his anatomy happened to hold long enough for me to fix your family’s emergency,” I cut him off, my voice dropping straight to sub-zero temperatures. I stopped three feet away from him, letting my gaze rake over him with clinical disgust.
Ethan stopped dead in his tracks, flinching as if I had thrown acid in his face. “Claire, I know how this looks. I know what you saw, what Madison sent—”
“Oh, you mean the photo of my former best friend prancing around my penthouse wearing my engagement ring while drinking champagne?” I tilted my head, letting a cold, humorless smile touch my lips. “Don’t worry, Ethan. I didn’t come here to scream at you. Screaming implies I still care enough to be angry.”
“We made a mistake,” Ethan choked out, desperation bleeding into his tone as he reached out instinctively to grab my wrist. I jerked my arm back violently, stepping out of his reach with a look of absolute revulsion.
“Do not touch me,” I whispered, the venom in my tone making him step back. “You didn't make a mistake, Ethan. Mistakes are accidental. Marrying Madison behind my back while texting me love notes about bridal appointments? That’s not a mistake. That’s calculated, cowardly betrayal. You and Madison deserve each other. Two parasites living in the luxury I helped build.”
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Before Ethan could fumble for another excuse, a sharp clatter echoed down the hallway. Footsteps approached rapidly, and a nurse rushed toward us, her face pale. “Dr. Vance! You need to come to ICU room 4 immediately. Mr. Sterling just woke up, but his monitor is showing erratic telemetry, and he’s asking specifically for you.”
I didn’t even glance at Ethan again. I turned on my heel, my heels clicking sharply against the polished linoleum floor as I strode away, leaving the man who had broken my heart standing completely alone in the empty corridor.
