Chapter 2 He Had Forgotten

Several deep breaths steadied Clara before she moved through the hospital lobby and stepped into the elevator bound for OB/GYN.

No sooner had she entered the room than Lorraine swept over, all cheerful energy. "You came all this way just for me, Clara. Honestly, I'm sorry for dragging you here. It's just menstrual cramps-nothing major. I probably overreacted. Declan insisted on bringing me in, and the paparazzi must have caught wind of it. If we hadn't come to the hospital, there wouldn't be such a scene outside."

Nothing about Lorraine's tone hinted at any real distress. If anything, she seemed amused by the chaos swirling around her.

Meanwhile, Declan was the picture of impatience, his posture rigid, eyes cold.

"Don't bother thanking her," he said flatly, shooting Clara a cold glance. "She's paid more than enough for this. Handling situations like this is exactly what she's supposed to do."

Clara pushed aside the ache his words left, forcing a small, polite smile. "This falls under my job description, Miss Mitchell. No need to thank me."

Lorraine squeezed Clara's hand, laughter bubbling up. "Come on, you don't have to be so stiff. Just call me Lorraine. Declan always says you're like a little sister to him. That means we are family."

The word family seemed to echo in Clara's head.

Did that mean they'd already decided to get married, even if there wasn't a baby yet?

Declan glanced back at her, frown deepening. "What are you waiting for? The press is outside. Lorraine needs to rest, so don't waste her time."

Lorraine made a show of being gentle. "There's no rush, Declan. I'm fine. Don't be so hard on her."

Declan sneered, "You call this crisis management? If you can't handle something this simple, Clara, maybe you're in the wrong line of work."

Each word felt like a fresh cut, but Clara kept her tone steady. "Understood, Mr. Curtis. I'll see to it right away."

Not another word passed her lips as she turned and walked out, her steps quiet but purposeful.

Once, Declan would never have spoken to her that way.

There was a time when his scolding came wrapped in concern.

Back when she stayed up all night obsessed with her favorite pop stars, Declan would act like the responsible older brother-reminding her to sleep, booking her flights to concerts overseas, and even sneaking her backstage for autographs and photos with her idols.

Fashion always came first for Clara. Even in the coldest months, she would show up to dance practice without so much as a scarf. Declan never hesitated to call her out, warning her she'd catch pneumonia if she kept it up, threatening to drag her straight to the clinic. But then, he'd turn around and have a studio built in the house and bring in a whole team so she could keep dancing, warm and comfortable.

Back when she was sixteen and took up rock climbing, she came home more bruised than whole, fresh scrapes lining her arms after every session. Declan would haul her to the doctor, lecturing her with that stormy look on his face, and then quietly have the climbing gym upgraded with all the best safety gear, making sure she could train without risking her neck.

Every act, every carefully hidden kindness, revealed just how deeply he'd cared.

Those days were gone. Lorraine now basked in the attention and care that Clara used to know so well. The girl who once teased Declan and made him laugh had faded into memory.

What was left was only Clara Brooks the assistant, the one who managed crises and handled PR.

Without this job, there would be no more reasons to stand by Declan's side.

The fear of losing even that tiny space in his world gripped her so tightly that her heart hammered in her chest. Nothing and no one could be allowed to threaten her position-not now.

Clara glanced down at the PR report glowing on her phone, her resolve hardening. She quickly summoned her team. "Stick to the strategy we talked about. I want a team to escort Mr. Curtis out the back exit. I'll stay with Miss Mitchell and handle things myself."

Pausing for only a beat, she added, "Track down every media outlet those photographers work for. I want them blacklisted from all future Curtis Group events. No exceptions."

Her directness jolted her subordinate, who nodded, wide-eyed, and hurried to carry out her instructions.

With everything set in motion, Clara returned upstairs.

Inside the hospital room, she delivered a crisp update on the new arrangements. Declan gave a short nod and turned to murmur something gentle to Lorraine before slipping out the door.

Clara's gaze lingered on his retreating back, then she turned to Lorraine. "Stay put for now. I'll be back for you in a moment."

She rushed down the hallway, moving quickly to keep pace with Declan's long steps. Struggling to catch her breath, she called out, "Declan-Mr. Curtis!"

He stopped, glancing over his shoulder, irritation already creeping across his features. "What do you need?"

Taking a steadying breath, she looked down. "Would you have any free time tomorrow? I was hoping you might spend some of it with me."

He seemed confused. "Spend time with you? Why? What's going on tomorrow that matters so much?"

The shock of his words left Clara frozen.

He had forgotten.

He didn't remember her birthday was tomorrow, and it was also the day her parents had died.