Chapter 2
Claire was stunned.
Her hands were trembling as she reached for her phone.
Her lock screen showed Zane Lane’s sleeping face—a face exactly like the photo inside the certificate.
The date on the certificate was five years ago.
Earlier than the day she met him.
“How…?”
Her tears could no longer be held.
So… his real name was Ethan Vance.
She was really the “mistress.”
“I don’t know…” Her tears fell onto the marriage certificate.
Lana scoffed.
“Humph, liar!”
Claire’s fingers dug into the edge of the desk.
Her nails broke and bled, but she couldn’t feel the pain.
She stared at the photo of Ethan Vance on the marriage certificate, and memories sliced through her heart like sharp blades.
The pain was suffocating.
Three years ago, on a rainy night.
Ethan had been in a severe car accident.
Claire had pulled him from the wreckage.
She had kept vigil outside the ICU for three days and nights.
After he was discharged, she looked after him for another three months.
He had lost his memory and had nowhere to go, so he stayed with Claire.
Day by day, they developed feelings for each other.
Back then, he couldn’t even remember his own name.
He asked Claire to name him.
“You’re Lane, I want to be Lane too.”
He looked at her with eyes full of affection.
She froze.
“Zane Lane. May I be Zane Lane?”
He lifted his long fingers and smoothed her messy hair away from her forehead.
From then on, there was a man named Zane Lane in her life.
They lived in a 30-square-meter studio.
It was so small that there's no room to swing a cat.
Zane Lane learned to cook for her.
The first time he cooked, he burned his hand.
She cried while applying ointment to the burn.
“It doesn’t hurt.”
He kissed her tears away and stuffed the burnt egg into his mouth.
When she worked night shifts, he waited at the bus stop.
When the wind was strong, he draped his coat over her shoulders.
“You gave me a new life.”
“You gave me a home.”
On their wedding day, it was freezing cold.
He couldn’t afford a diamond ring, so he bought simple silver bands.
They exchanged rings and made promises for a lifetime.
Their married life was simple and warm.
The 30-square-meter apartment was often filled with handwritten notes from him.
“Eat breakfast,” “Dinner’s on the stove.”
After he recovered, he bought a used EV and became a rideshare driver.
On payday, he stood in line for two hours to buy her a trendy cake.
In the winter, when the heater broke, they shivered under one blanket.
He held her feet to his chest to warm them.
She thought they would get old together.
A news alert snapped her out of the memory.
[The heir of the Vance family, missing for three years, officially returns.]
The photo showed him at a press conference.
A well-tailored suit, a watch that caught the light.
It was a world away from the man who wore a white T-shirt and jeans in their tiny apartment.
On his left middle finger, a platinum wedding ring gleamed.
It made the simple silver ring on her own left hand be ridiculous.
Claire covered her mouth.
He was the heir to the Vance family.
He had regained his memory long ago.
No wonder he had told her he found a high-paying job—short-term work at sea.
He worked for one or two months, then rested for a week or two.
It had all been a lie.
Suddenly, the office door burst open.
Ethan strode in and pulled Lana into his arms.
“Lana, are you okay? What are you doing here?”
He scanned her face, then finally relaxed.
When his eyes met Claire’s, his brows furrowed.
He glared at her with a cold, warning look.
“Let me go!” Lana hit his chest. “You don’t love me anymore!”
“Nonsense,” he said softly, tightening his hold. “I love you the most. I’ll always love you.”
That voice. That tone.
It was so familiar.
Only it no longer belonged to her.
Claire’s nails dug into her palms, but she didn’t feel the pain.
He continued whispering sweet things.
“If I ever change my heart… may lightning strike me.”
Lana quickly covered his mouth.
He kissed the back of her hand, intimate and natural.
Claire staggered backward.
He had once said the same thing to her.
Just last week, before his “business trip,” he had kissed her forehead and said, “Wait for me.”
Now, he was pledging his loyalty to another woman right in front of her.
When they left her office, she stood there, motionless, her heart pierced with a thousand knives.
She dialed an overseas number.
“Uncle, I’ve decided to immigrate.”
“Really? Bring your husband too. I can support both of you.”
“He’s not coming. Only I will go.”
She forced a smile. Did the heir of the Vance family need their help?
She packed up and left.
At the hospital entrance, she saw Ethan.
“Let's talk,” he said.
