Until The Last Day (Claire and Lorenzo) novel Chapter 4

Claire’s POV

I hadn’t expected to see Lorenzo here.

I didn’t answer his question but asked him. “What are you doing here?”

He blinked, hesitated, and then said quickly, “I—I was having dinner nearby with a friend. I saw you passing by and thought I should check.”

His tone was casual, but the flicker of panic in his eyes betrayed him. Before I could respond, a familiar voice called from behind him.

“Lorenzo, what’s taking so long?”

Aria Vale stepped out of the car. She was wearing a cream-colored coat, her hair loose and shining in the sunlight. When her gaze met mine, her expression shifted slightly, surprise first, then something almost triumphant, carefully hidden behind a polite smile.

“Oh,” she said, walking closer, “is this your wife?”

Lorenzo’s shoulders tensed. “Yes. Aria, this is Claire.” His voice wavered, then steadied again. “Claire, this is Aria.”

Aria extended her hand toward me, her smile warm, practiced. “Nice to finally meet you, Mrs. Claire. Did you come all the way out here for something important?”

I looked at her hand but didn’t take it. Instead, I lowered my gaze. “I’m just here to fulfill a birthday wish for a friend,” I said softly. “And take a few pictures.”

“Really?” Aria’s voice brightened. “That’s perfect! I’m actually great at photography. Maybe I can help pick the outfits, too.”

I lifted my eyes to Lorenzo.When he didn’t object, I didn’t refuse.

We then rode together in Lorenzo’s car. I sat alone in the back seat.

At first, the car was quiet. Lorenzo held back, not daring to say much. But soon, Aria started a conversation about a recently released movie. Out of courtesy, he responded to her briefly.

It was a topic he enjoyed, so he got carried away, forgetting that I was in the back.

When we arrived at the photo studio, they stepped out first, still laughing.

I waited for a moment, then slowly reached for my wheelchair, struggling to pull it out myself. My hands shook slightly as I locked the wheels in place and pushed forward, following behind them.

At the entrance, a young greeter smiled brightly. “Welcome! Are you here for a couple’s photoshoot? You two look so perfect together!”

Lorenzo froze. His face darkened instantly. “She’s not my wife,” he said, voice sharp. “Please don’t talk nonsense.”

The greeter’s eyes widened. “Oh! I’m so sorry, sir! You just looked so… well, compatible.”

Lorenzo didn’t answer. His gaze flicked toward me, and for this time, he seemed to realize how it must look.

He rushed back to my side. “Sorry,Claire, we got so caught up talking that we forgot about you. Why didn’t you say something? ,” he said softly, guilt written all over his face.

Aria followed, tilting her head with an apologetic smile. “Oh no, I didn’t even notice! Why didn’t you tell us earlier, Claire?”

I watched their performance quietly, feeling nothing but tiredness. I said nothing.

Once, Lorenzo and I had been the couple people envied. We’d shared inside jokes, whispered plans for the future, laughed until it hurt. Now, even small talk between us felt impossible.

The receptionist appeared, clipboard in hand, eager to smooth over the tension. “What kind of photos would you like today?”

Lorenzo and Aria both turned to me.

I said quietly, “Just… some random shots.”

“Sounds good!” Aria clapped her hands together. “Claire, why don’t you go pick out a few outfits? Since it’s hard for you to move around, Lorenzo and I can test some poses first, so you’ll know what to do when it’s your turn.”

Before I could respond, she tugged at Lorenzo’s sleeve. “Come on, let’s get started.”

He hesitated. For a brief second, he looked back at me, guilt flickering across his face. But then Aria laughed, and he followed her.

From my chair, I watched them step in front of the camera.

At first, Lorenzo kept his distance, hands stiff, expression uneasy.But under Aria’s gentle coaxing, that distance faded. She touched his arm, adjusted his tie, leaned into his shoulder.

The photographer praised them. “Perfect, just like that! You two have great chemistry.”

Aria smiled coyly.

Lorenzo chuckled softly, eyes softening as she whispered something that made him laugh harder.

I just watched them from a distance, laughing under the studio lights. The camera flashed again and again, freezing their smiles into something permanent.

When I realized they weren’t going to stop, I called over another photographer.

“I’d like a black and white portrait,” I said.

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