---- Chapter 12 No.12 Chase drove without destination. The sun beat down on the windshield, but he felt cold, hollowed out. You're a monster. Her words echoed in his head. He had always seen himself as the hero of his own story. The brilliant tech prodigy. The benevolent provider. That image had been shattered. In her eyes, he was the villain. He found himself parked outside a dark, anonymous bar in a strip mall. He went inside and started drinking. The whiskey burned, a welcome distraction. He drank until the edges of the world blurred. He had always thought of Clare as a cornerstone of his life, not because he loved her-he wasn't sure he knew what that word meant- but because her adoration was the mirror in which he saw his own greatness reflected. Now the mirror was broken. And the reflection was ugly. He thought of his own parents. His father, a cold, demanding man who measured love in stock prices. His mother, a fragile woman who measured her worth by her husband's mood. Chase had sworn he would be different. But hadn't he tried to ---- shape Clare into a perfect accessory for his life? The thought was unbearable. He ordered another drink. He pulled out his phone, his fingers clumsy. He scrolled through his photos until he found one from a year ago. A candid shot. Clare was asleep on the couch in their apartment, a book fallen on her chest, her face soft and peaceful in the afternoon light. She had looked so safe. He had destroyed that. A wave of something that felt terrifyingly like regret washed over him. It was a foreign, sickening emotion. He stumbled out of the bar, the daylight blinding him. He got in his car and started driving. He didn't know where he was going, but his hands seemed to know the way. He ended up back at her studio. He parked across the street, watching. The lights were still on. What was he doing? What did he hope to accomplish? An apology? She had already thrown his last one back in his face. He couldn't go back to New York, back to the empty apartment and Karis's cloying neediness. That life felt like a tomb. He sat there for hours as the sun set and darkness fell. He watched her car finally pull away. He didn't follow. He was adrift. The carefully plotted map of his life had been ---- set on fire, and he was lost in the smoke. For the first time, Chase Strong had no idea what to do next.