Chapter 84 I'm in Your Way

Claire had been wandering the streets for what felt like forever. Alan sent a driver to pick her up. But no matter how much the driver begged, she just wouldn't get in the car.

So, the driver had no choice but to trail her in the car.

It wasn't until Claire's legs felt like lead that she finally stopped.

The cold weather had her cheeks numb from the biting wind.

After standing there for a bit, she turned, waved at the driver who'd been tailing her, and finally got in the car to head home.

Claire didn't bother changing into clean clothes; there were still traces of blood on her face and body.

She went through the photo albums again, selected the photos she wished to retain, and set aside those that included Alan.

She opened the balcony window and asked the maid to bring a big basin.

With a lighter, she set the photos on fire and sat on a small stool nearby. The wind on the balcony quickly fanned the flames.

From a distance, Alan saw black smoke billowing out of the room.

Feeling a surge of panic, he floored it and rushed upstairs. He burst through the door to find Claire burning the photos one by one, feeling a wave of relief. At least it wasn't a house fire.

Claire carefully looked at each photo before tossing it into the flames. These were all photos of her and Alan over the years.

"What are you doing?" Alan rushed over and snatched some photos from Claire's hand.

Looking at the photos in his hand and then at the worn-out Claire, he felt a twinge of emotion.

He softened his tone and gently hugged Claire's shoulders. "I'm sorry, I hurt you. Can you stop being mad?"

Claire didn't respond.

He kept trying to soothe her, "Claire, what's done is done. I don't want to explain too much. Since Timmy is already a fact, can you raise him as your own? After all, haven't you always regretted not having a child?"

"Alan, there's no need to make it so complicated," Claire finally said, "How can a legal child be without his biological mother? I'm the one in the way."

As she spoke, Claire looked at Alan with a nearly hopeless expression. "If you had told me earlier, we wouldn't have had all this trouble. Now, Timmy can't even call you dad openly. Alan, you should have told me your true thoughts a long time ago. Why hide it and make things so embarrassing?"

"Claire, what do you mean by that? I'll consider your words as venting. Just remember one thing: I won't divorce you. You can throw a tantrum all you want, but you need to know my bottom line," Alan was also losing patience and made his stance clear.

Claire glanced at the burning photos that were almost gone, took the photos Alan had grabbed back, and threw them all into the fire.

"What are you doing!" Alan shouted and quickly reached into the fire to pull out the photos, but some of them were already burning.

"I only have one request," Claire spoke, her voice filled with grievance and humility.

Alan patted his fingers where he had just been burned by the ashes. Hearing her words, he thought she had agreed to his arrangement and immediately showed a hint of joy.

He knew Claire was the most understanding and kind-hearted woman, and she would surely understand his difficulties.

Claire got up and grabbed a document from the dressing table. Alan followed her and saw it was a separation agreement, splitting UrbanChic Apparel from the Fisher Group.

This brand was their baby, the one they started when they first got into business. It was their golden ticket, the stepping stone to creating the Fisher Group.

But over the years, the brand had been outshined by others and wasn't bringing in any benefits to the Fisher Group anymore.

Alan looked at the agreement in his hand, confused. Was she still thinking about divorce?

Seeing he didn't take the pen from her hand, Claire, on the verge of tears, shouted, "Alan, can't you even give me back this small brand?"

Claire was a design genius. It was her creativity that had breathed life into UrbanChic Apparel. To be honest, the brand had been entirely propped up by Claire.

Seeing her about to break down, Alan gritted his teeth and quickly signed his name. "Don't be mad. I'll give you whatever you want, okay? Besides, isn't everything I have yours? What's the big deal about this brand?"

Claire found his words almost laughable. She took a deep breath and said coldly, "Are you sure everything you have is mine? Does that include all your shares, real estate, and overseas accounts? Do I need to go on?"

Alan's face darkened. She knew about those things.

Claire had found out just two days after Alan left. She had someone investigate, and all of Alan's assets had been transferred to his illegitimate son's name.

She had hoped it was a mistake and had it checked again, but the results were the same.

Alan still wanted to deceive her.

Claire found it incredibly laughable. She was nearly fifty. If she had been a little more naive, she might have been fooled by this jerk until her death.

Claire kicked Alan out, threatening that if he bothered her again, she wouldn't hesitate to jump from the second floor.

Claire locked herself in the study for the entire night.

On the top shelf of the bookcase were several storage boxes. She brought them all down and dumped everything onto the floor.

The floor was covered with a thick wool carpet. Claire sat on it, looking at the sketches one by one, all of which she had drawn herself.

Back then, technology wasn't as advanced, and they didn't have much money, so Claire had to drawn the designs on papers by hand.

Even the later designs for the Fisher Group were all done by Claire alone.

So now, Claire was carefully sorting through them, separating the UrbanChic Apparel designs from the Fisher Group ones. She placed the UrbanChic Apparel designs in one storage box and crumpled the rest into another box.

The next day

Alan had to go to the hospital to visit Timmy.

He stood outside the door, smiling humbly as if nothing had happened, "Claire, I have to go to the office for a bit. If you need anything, just call me."

"Got it," Claire responded in a flat voice.

Alan kept smiling and said, "What do you want to eat? I'll bring it back for you when I return. How about your favorite egg tarts? I'll ask the cook to make them extra crispy for you."