Bound to my Enemy-Chapter 165.

You really don’t know?" she asks.

My eyebrows pull together.

"Know what?"

For a moment she just stares at me, then something in her expression shifts.

Not pity... but something close, that only makes my stomach twist harder.

"Claire," I say again, slower this time, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Stop being cryptic and just tell me what’s going on."

Silence stretches between us, Margaret moves around quietly in the kitchen behind us, pretending she’s busy but clearly listening.

Claire taps the fork lightly against the plate, then she sets it down.

Her eyes meet mine again directly.

"Is this about the club?" I ask quickly.

The words rush out before I can stop them.

Claire tilts her head slightly.

"That night," I continue.

"Did you come here because of that?"

My voice softens slightly.

"Are you... checking on me or something?"

Claire’s expression doesn’t change but she doesn’t interrupt me either.

"That’s the only explanation that makes sense," I go on.

My mind clings to that idea because the alternative feels too strange.

"You ditched me at the club," I say.

Then shrug slightly.

"So maybe you felt bad about it."

Claire lets out a quiet breath through her nose. Almost like a soft laugh but not quite it.

I frown.

"What?"

She studies me again for a long moment.

Then she says quietly,

"You think that’s why I’m here?"

My confusion grows deeper.

"Well... yeah?"

I gesture vaguely toward the door she walked through earlier.

"You showed up at my house out of nowhere."

My eyes flick briefly toward the chair she’s sitting in.

"And you clearly know things about this place."

I look back at her.

"So yeah," I say.

"That’s the only logical explanation."

Claire leans back a little further in the chair, her fingers resting lightly against the edge of the table as that same small smile slowly creeps back onto her face, but this time it doesn’t feel friendly.

It feels like she knows something I don’t, something importan and big.

And the way she’s looking at me suddenly makes a cold feeling settle in the pit of my stomach. Because Claire doesn’t look like someone who came here to apologize.

And that thought makes my heart start beating a little faster.

Claire doesn’t answer me immediately.

She just keeps looking at me.

I shift my weight slightly, my fingers tightening around the back of the chair beside me.

"You’re being weird," I tell her.

My voice comes out more irritated than I intended, but at this point I don’t care.

"You walk into my house like you belong here, you sit in my husband’s chair like it’s normal, you tell me to ask him instead of answering me yourself... and now you’re just staring at me."

Claire exhales softly.../ not really annoyed, it’s more like someone who expected this moment.

"You’re right," she says quietly.

My eyebrows pull together

"About what?"

"That you should ask your husband."

My patience snaps.

"Oh my God, Claire....."

She lifts a hand slightly, to stop me from finishing the sentence.

"I’m serious, Elaine."

My jaw tightens.

"And I’m serious too," I shoot back.

"You don’t get to walk into my house and start talking in riddles."

Claire studies me for a long moment

"You trust him a lot, don’t you?"

The question catches me off guard.

"What?"

"Zane," she clarifies.

Something about the way she says his name makes my chest tighten.

"Yes," I say slowly. Because r fr some reason I kinda do trust him.

"Why wouldn’t I?"

Claire doesn’t answer that right away, instead she tilts her head slightly. That little act she’s doing and delaying my answers is starting to genuinely pisse me off

"You know... most people who know him wouldn’t say that."

A small laugh leaves me before I can stop it.

"Well lucky for him I’m not most people."

She watches me for another quiet moment.

"Do you actually know him though?"

I blink.

"What kind of question is that?"

Claire shrugs lightly.

"It’s a simple one."

My arms cross over my chest agai

"Yes," I answer.

"Of course I know him."

She doesn’t look convinced nd that irritates me more than I want to admit.

"You’re acting like I married a stranger." Technically I did marry a stranger but that’s not for her to know. To the rest of the world we fell in love and got married and even though she’s my friend....i can’t tell her the details of my marriage with Zane.

Her lips twitch slightly.

"Didn’t you?"

My stomach flips.

"What’s that supposed to mean?"

Claire taps her finger lightly against the table surface.

"I mean... how long did you really know him before you got married?"

I hesitate for a second.....but it’s enough as her eyes catch it immediately

"Right," she murmurs.

"That’s exactly what I thought."

I shake my head, fucking annoyed now.

"This whole conversation is ridiculous."

Claire leans back in the chair again.

Still very muh Zane’s chair.

"You think so?" she asks.

"Yes," I reply immediately.

"Because you’re clearly implying something but refusing to actually say it."

Silence settles between us again.

"You know he lies...... he lied to" She says after a bit

My chest tightens, wondering how the fuck Zane knows Claire enough to lie to her.

"Everyone lies," I say.

"That’s not exactly groundbreaking."

Claire nods slowly.

"True."

Another pause.

"But Zane lies..... differently, he gives you false hope."

I frown.

"What does that even mean?"

She looks toward the hallway for a moment.

Like she’s thinking, then her gaze returns to me.

"Have you asked yourself why Margaret didn’t question me when I walked in?"

My eyes flick toward the kitchen watching to see that Margaret is still moving around in there, cleaning something.

My stomach tightens slightly.

"She’s just being polite," I say.

Claire raises an eyebrow.

"Is that what you think? My naive naive child"

"Yes."

Her lips curve slightly again.

"You’re very trusting g."