Until The Last Day (Claire and Lorenzo) novel Chapter 1

Until The Last Day Chapter 01

Claire’s POV

After my application for euthanasia was approved, I set a death countdown for my husband and his mistress.

My husband Lorenzo was my light, my reason to live.

Even though I was paralyzed while saving him, I never regretted, even after I found his cheating diary.

In which he said he only married me out of duty and guilt.

He claimed to be suffocating, that every minute was torture and he wished he was the one who got paralysed instead, at least the physical pain was nothing compared to his mental guilt.

He admitted that he’d fallen for another girl, “She was vibrant, bright, and lively,” he wrote, “just like Claire had been before the crash.”

“Claire had been before the crash”, I repeated this sentence quietly.

The sound of the door opening brought me back.

“Happy birthday!”

Lorenzo’s voice filled the room. He was holding a paper bag and smiling brightly, his tie loosened, his hair slightly messy.

I smiled softly. “My birthday was yesterday.”

He froze. The smile that had been on his face died down as panic scattered across his embarrassed expression.

“Oh, damn it, Claire, I’m so sorry. Work’s been crazy lately.”

He dropped the bag on the table and knelt in front of me, his hands gently pressing on my legs.

“How are you feeling today?” he changed the topic, rubbing my knees like they could still feel warmth. “Any better?”

I looked down on his hands, he pressed too hard, his slender hands turning red. But my legs can’t feel anything at all.

I didn’t respond.

He looked distracted, his eyes wandering to the side. And then his phone rang.

The moment he saw the name, a smile spread across his face.“Sorry, I need to take this,” he said quickly. “Work.”

He turned away, walking out into the hall, his voice dropping low and tender.

I watched him leave silently, knowing clearly that he was lying.

It must have been about the girl he loved.

Since truly loved each other before, I’d seen that genuine, irrepressible smile many times.

Before the car accident, we were a perfectly matched couple. Every morning, he’d wait for me at the school gate, coffee in hand. “Harvard, here we come,” he’d say, and I’d laugh, believing him.

We studied side by side, pushed each other harder, and when the results came, we both made it — near-perfect SAT scores, two scholarships, and a love story everyone envied.

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