As though stung by Claire's words, Carsten felt his pupils constrict sharply, and he released her at once.
The air in the dressing room turned suffocating, thick and heavy, as though it stole the breath from their lungs.
Claire paid him no further attention. She turned calmly and sat before the vanity, lifting her gaze to the mirror as she adjusted her makeup with deliberate, unhurried precision.
Carsten remained where he stood behind her, silent, his gaze locked onto her reflection.
After a long, heavy pause, he let out a quiet breath. "Claire… I know I've wronged you. I made so many promises…" His voice faltered. "And I failed every one of them."
He hesitated, then raised his eyes to meet hers through the mirror. "Just give me a little more time. Wait for me. I swear—within six months, I'll settle the Dale family's financial troubles. When that day comes, I'll honor every promise I ever made you. I'll make our relationship public… and I'll marry you."
Claire's hands never wavered as she worked, though a faint crease appeared between her brows.
Promises like these—she had heard them more times than she could remember.
From the very beginning of their secret relationship, he had sworn he would go public soon.
She had waited three months. Then six. Then a year. Until three long years had slipped silently by.
And now, when she was on the verge of marrying someone else, he was still making these empty promises.
The compact snapped shut with a sharp click. Claire lifted her chin, her gaze locking onto his in the mirror. "And Daisy Kirby?" she asked coolly. "In six months… will you truly stop worrying about her?"
The name lingered in the air like the edge of a blade. Silence descended, broken only by the faint rhythm of their breathing.
Daisy—Carsten's former lover. Years ago, she had left him behind to study abroad. When she returned, she sought to rekindle what they had once shared.
By then, Carsten had been with Claire for less than a month.
He had rejected Daisy.
That same night, Daisy—driving under the influence—was involved in a car accident that left her confined to a wheelchair for life.
Carsten bore the weight of that night as though it were a life sentence. He blamed himself for everything she endured, and for three long years, he had cared for her without complaint.
Because he feared upsetting Daisy, he never dared acknowledge his relationship with Claire publicly.
Because Daisy's condition was fragile, whether it was an anniversary or a carefully planned date Claire had poured her heart into, he would abandon everything—abandon Claire—without hesitation, rushing to Daisy the moment she called.
For three years, Daisy had been the unbridgeable chasm between Claire and Carsten. No matter how hard Claire tried, she could never cross it.
And now… she no longer wished to.
After a long silence, Claire turned and walked toward the door, brushing past Carsten without a single glance.
Just as her fingers closed around the doorknob, Carsten stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her from behind.
He began, "I promise—just six more months. I'll care for her only six more months. After that… once you've divorced Logan and returned to the Dale family, I swear I won't concern myself with her ever again."
The warmth of his body pressed against her back. Claire closed her eyes, her voice carrying a quiet, bitter calm. "The last time she had a nosebleed, you left me burning with a fever and told me to drive myself to the hospital—you said it would be the last. And before that, on our dating anniversary, you left me alone in the private room for the entire night, surrounded by flowers and gifts you never even looked at. You told me then that you would never care about her again, too."
Her gaze lowered as she pried his fingers from her waist, one by one. "Carsten… you were the one who agreed to this marriage with Logan on my behalf. And don't forget—starting today, the world knows I am a woman with a fiancé."
She shrugged him off completely. "Show me some respect."
Pain flickered across Carsten's face. "Claire… what do you mean—"
Before he could finish, his phone rang. It was his exclusive ringtone for business calls. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.
They stood so close that the name "Logan" flashed unmistakably across the screen before Claire's eyes.
Carsten frowned, hesitated, then put it on speaker.
Afraid Claire might seize the chance to escape, he locked the door without hesitation and braced himself against it. "Mr. Carter," he greeted.
A lazy, arrogant voice drifted through the line. "How are the preparations for my engagement ceremony?"
Carsten's expression darkened. "The ceremony begins in ten minutes. Everything is in place. I'll have my assistant send you photos and videos afterward."
"Good." Logan chuckled softly. "I trust the Dale family won't neglect my soon-to-be fiancée's feelings—or cut corners—simply because I'm not there."
"We wouldn't dare, Mr. Carter. You have my word."
"I've prepared a gift for her. It will arrive shortly. Make sure she receives it."
"Understood."
Claire frowned as she listened. Perhaps it was her imagination—but Logan's voice sounded strangely familiar, as though she had heard it somewhere before.
After Carsten ended the call, he was about to speak when a knock sounded at the door.
Danny's voice came from outside. "Claire, you're only fixing your makeup. Why is the door locked? Open up!"
Claire shot Carsten a cold look. "Move."
He paused, then silently stepped aside, retreating into a dim corner of the room.
An unspoken rule they had followed for three years: to avoid suspicion, no one could ever see them alone together.
Watching him disappear into the shadows with practiced ease, Claire felt a rush of conflicting emotions—bitter amusement laced with sharp irony.
For three years, her love had existed like a stolen secret.
She inhaled deeply, opened the door, and smiled at Danny. "What is it? Are your parents getting impatient?"
"No." Danny hesitated, lowering his voice. "Earlier in the car… didn't I tell you to contact your boyfriend? To have him take you away? Where is he?"
"He's not coming." Claire's gaze drifted briefly toward the shadowed corner, a faint, bitter smile curving her lips. "We broke up."
