chapter142
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chapter142
Claudine said nothing. After wrapping the gauze, she put everything back in the medicine box and got up to leave.
Damian reached out and grabbed Claudine’s wrist..
Claudine’s expression remained calm.
“Is there anything else?”
Damian’s throat tightened as he looked at Claudine’s face, but in the end, he said nothing.
Claudine lowered her eyes, picked up the medicine box, and left the room.
After closing the door, Claudine leaned against the wall and let out a heavy breath.
She glanced at the bedroom door, not wanting to go back.
Her parents were already asleep, and her brother had returned to his own place.
Claudine went to the wine cellar, took a bottle of red wine, and climbed up to the attic.
Back in high school, this had been her favorite spot.
It was her secret hideaway.
When she opened the door, a musty smell of dust that had been sealed for years greeted her.
Claudine turned on the light and walked inside.
In the room, the ceramics she had casually molded in the past were still there, and even the old tools had been well preserved.
She walked into the room.
On the shelf by the window sat a pile of boxes in various sizes.
Inside them were all her creations.
Claudine took each item out of the boxes one by one-there were coffee cups and imitation antique pieces, all of them shaped by her own hands and fired in the kiln by herself.
Looking at them now, her technique back then was purely out of interest, and there were many obvious flaws.
Claudine examined each piece, and before she knew it, the bottle of red wine in her hand was nearly empty.
Moonlight streamed through the window above, casting a silvery veil over the attic, as if time had turned back to the happiest days of Claudine’s life.
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chapter142
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She gazed at the antique she had fired herself, remembering how she used to spend entire days alone in this attic.
From sketching to molding, coloring, and firing, she never felt bored or restless.
That was probably the happiest period of her life.
After all, back then, she and her mother were both completely unaware of her father’s affairs.
This was also why she and her brother had always hesitated about whether to tell their mother the truth.
Because she herself didn’t know whether living in a Truman Show world was good or bad…
She came to the last box.
It was the most exquisitely wrapped of all the boxes.
Of course, she knew what it was.
After all, it was the piece she was most proud of in the first half of her life.
She could still remember that day clearly-the school had invited a celebrity to give a speech.
At that time, Damian was just in his early twenties, strikingly handsome, and many girls at school couldn’t help but scream when they saw his face.
She was captivated by him as well.
Later, she searched for a lot of information about Damian online. She not only liked his looks, but was also deeply impressed by his excellence.
For a time, she regarded this man as her idol.
That was her senior year of high school, a secret she couldn’t share with anyone.
Later, she worked hard and was admitted to the city where Damian lived. Although it was far from home, Claudine was very happy.
At that time, she never even thought about pursuing Damian; she simply liked him quietly.
This affection had nothing to do with anyone else.
Until the year she graduated from graduate school, her mother said that Bronzevale from the Barrette family had pro- posed a marriage alliance, but the other party had a daughter who was only six months old.
She never expected that Damian had gotten married.
Even more unexpected was that one day, she would marry Damian herself.
She didn’t hesitate at all and agreed to the marriage.
She willingly gave up the PhD admission she had already secured.
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chapter142
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That night, she had a dream.
She dreamed of that man putting a ring on her finger in a church.
Claudine woke from that dream, staring at the ceiling, wishing she could return to it.
She ran barefoot to the attic and drew the scene from her dream, where they exchanged rings and kissed.
She shaped the clay herself, preserving that moment from her dream forever.
Even now, Claudine still remembered that sweltering summer.
The attic breeze was cool, but she still sweated a lot while molding the clay.
The mud and sweat on her hands mixed together, and the man’s face from her dream gradually took shape in her hands.
Claudine stroked the box, thinking of the almost obsessive love she had for that man back then.
The marriage she had imagined was sweet and blissful.
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