Until The Last Day (Claire and Lorenzo) novel Chapter 2

Claire’s POV

I sat alone in the living room for a long time after dinner. When the house finally went still, I pushed my wheelchair toward the study and knocked gently.

The door opened a crack. Lorenzo hurriedly ended his call and came out.

“I forgot your birthday,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “To make up for it, and since our third anniversary’s coming up, how about a trip? Anywhere you want.”

I looked up at him. “Switzerland,” I whispered. “I want to see the first snow.”

His eyebrows lifted. “Switzerland?” He laughed softly, trying to sound light. “That’s a long flight, Claire. It might be too hard on you, and we’ll get snow here next month.”

I shook my head. It was rare for me to turn him down.

I only had fifteen days left. I wouldn’t live to see next month’s snow.

He frowned, confused. Then he nodded slowly. “Alright. I will plan a trip to Switzerland.”

He turned toward his desk, already pulling out his phone to make the arrangements.

I knew he’d agree. I’d read in his diary that every time he came home after seeing Aria, his guilt grew stronger. He always tried to make it up to me.

I set a timer on my phone. A black background, white letters:DEATH COUNTDOWN – 15 DAYS

When Lorenzo came back to tell me the tickets were booked, his tone was gentle, doting.

“I booked the flights. We’re going to Switzerland for Christmas.”

As he spoke, his eyes flickered toward my phone screen.

Once, no matter what I was doing, he’d come over and pester me with questions, just to get my attention.Now, he had even glanced over at it, but he didn’t notice. he just smiled faintly and said, “You should rest.”

He didn’t care anymore.

Relieved that I didn’t press for conversation, he walked away toward the bathroom.The sound of running water filled the silence.

Maybe it was better this way.We both were tired of each other, he of pretending, and I of living under a false ignorance.In fifteen days, all of it would end.

The next morning, I woke up early and opened my notebook.I drew a small heart at the top of the page and titled it:My Wish List.

I began writing:

See my friends

Feed the swans

Have a drink

Watch a sunset by the lake

The list was small, but I wrote each word carefully, focusing on the events I wanted to relive or experience in my last days.

Halfway through, I heard a voice behind me.

“What are you writing?”

Lorenzo’s tone was soft, curious.

“My wish list,” I said without turning around.

He chuckled lightly. “You used to do that when you were seventeen….”

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