Pieces of You
Page 21
attempts to kiss me. We hold onto each other for a while, though it’s not long enough. It’s never long enough. When I pull away, I’m surprise to see a hint of a smile on his face.
“Are you happy to be getting rid of me, or something?” I ask.
He shakes his head slightly. “Are you spending the night with Cora or are you driving back?”
“I have to drive back. I can’t be here.”
“Do you mind if I ride with you?”
“Of course I don’t mind.”
He grabs the ring box on top of the car and opens the car door to tell Tristan he’s going back with me. The two-hour drive back to Raleigh is spent mostly listening to Chris talk about music while I dodge questions about school. I tell him about the conversation I had with Jackie and he laughs.
“I’m not surprised,” he says. “When I broke the news to her that you weren’t coming for the weekend, she and Tristan had a good laugh pretending it was because of my gimpy leg. Then she told me very seriously that I need to give you some space.”
“And your idea of giving me space is asking me to marry you?”
“Hey, go easy on me. My high school sweetheart just rejected my marriage proposal.”
“High school sweetheart? You dropped out junior year. We went to the same high school for like three weeks.”
“Worst three weeks of my life. Why do you think I quit?”
I shove his arm and the car swerves a little to the right.
“Hey, watch the road,” he warns me. We ride together in silence for a while before he speaks again. “I didn’t want to tell you this earlier, but the open adoption is off. They don’t want anything to do with us.”
My body floods with adrenaline and I grip the steering wheel as I try to formulate a response. “When did you find out?”
“I found out yesterday, but I wanted to wait until we were together to tell you. I’m sorry. I feel like I failed you.”
My hands shake as I realize that the one thing I feared the most when Chris told me he was going to pursue an open adoption has come true. I never got to see or hold my daughter.
“You’re not sorry. You got to hold her hand.”
“You think holding her hand was enough?”
“I didn’t even get to see her and now she’s gone! Forever!”
“I tried my fucking best! I went so far as to offer them money just so you could have one more opportunity to see her before they made up their minds, but they want nothing to do with us.”
“You offered them money? No wonder they backed out, with you flashing your money all over the place. They don’t want your money and they sure as hell don’t want your fame. What do you think they pictured in their mind? What do you think they thought would happen years from now when Abigail figured out who you are? You scared them off. They can’t compete with a fucking rock star.”
My heart is racing as I spit out these vile accusations that I only half believe, but I feel the need to hurt someone right now. I want him to feel just a fraction of the pain I’m feeling.
I yank the locket off my neck and roll down the window so I can toss it out. I look over my shoulder at the road behind us. The locket glints in the faint glow of my taillights and time seems to stop as I say a silent prayer for this heartache to end soon. I want to wake up in a time and place where my mother is still alive and she is perfectly healthy and happy. I want to live without the fear that every decision I make will hurt everyone I love. I want to be the person who believes that love and time are truly enough to heal a broken heart.
I want to die.
“Claire, watch out!”
Chapter Forty-One
Claire
I TURN FORWARD TO FACE the road just as Chris grabs the steering wheel. The car swerves to the right as he attempts to stop us from crashing into the center divider. I grab the wheel as I slam on the brakes.
The tires squeal as the car spins around one full revolution and comes to a stop in the middle of two lanes. My hands shake as I grip the steering wheel. The car is surrounded in smoke and Chris is saying something, but I can’t hear him over the thump of my heartbeat.
I’m hyperventilating. Each breath comes shorter and more painful than the last. Chris yanks the keys out of the ignition and I finally hear him.
“Climb in the back. I’ll drive. Claire, climb in the back.”
I scramble over the console and into the backseat. I’m on my hands and knees, my head hanging forward, as I attempt to catch my breath. I don’t know what’s going on, but suddenly Chris is in the driver’s seat and the car is moving again. Then it stops again and I see the faint red of my hazard lights flashing.
“Do I need to call an ambulance?” he says.
I turn my head to the side to look at him. My chest is on fire, but I cough a few times and the air slowly returns to my lungs.
“No. I’m fine.” I collapse and I must appear as if I’m praying or meditating, with my face buried in my knees and my arms splayed out in front of me.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” I sit up on my knees and look out the window. Chris pulled the car onto the shoulder, with a broken leg. “Get out of there. I’m driving.”
He stares at me, but he doesn’t move. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say. You’re right. They probably would have agreed to an open adoption if it weren’t for me.”
“It’s not your fault. And none of this would have happened if it weren’t for me keeping the pregnancy from you. My sins will always outweigh yours.”
“I can still try, if you want me to. You never know, they may change their minds if they see I’m not touring anymore.”
“No. And you have to go to L.A., Chris. Don’t stay here for me.”
He looks annoyed by me telling him what to do. “I’m not going to L.A.” He pauses for a moment, his mind obviously far away from the inside of this car. “Thanks for thinking of me. Thank you for thinking of me last year when you pushed me to go to L.A. But I’m not doing it. I’ll hate myself if I leave you again.”
I nod and he finally gets out of the car and back into the passenger seat. I pull up in front of the house an hour later and we sit in silence for a few minutes. I don’t know what he’s thinking, but I’m thinking of how lucky and cursed I am to have Chris and Adam competing for my heart. And what a truly crushed heart it is. I try not to think of Abigail so I don’t cry again, but trying to not think of something is like trying to not fall after you’ve already jumped.
I wipe the tears on the sleeve of my jacket and Chris pulls off his T-shirt for me to use instead. “Here,” he says as he stuffs it into my lap. “You can give it back to me later.” He leans over and lays a soft kiss on my cheekbone. “Goodnight, babe.”
By the time I get back to the dorm, Chris’s shirt is pretty soaked and I’m extremely parched. When I get to the entrance at Spencer Hall, I reach into my jacket pocket to retrieve my cardkey and my fingers bump into the ring—but it feels strange.
I feel around a little and realize there are two rings in my pocket. I pull them out and shake my head. Chris must have slipped the ring into my pocket when we were hugging. That’s why he was smiling when he pulled away. That sneaky little….
I sigh as I swipe my cardkey and make my way up to the third floor. When I enter the dorm, Senia is sitting on her bed with her headphones on and her laptop open in front of her. She sees me and looks a bit confused, then frightened.
She tears the headphones out of her ears and sits up straight. “Why are you back?”
“I can’t believe you were in on it, tricking me into going to see Adam,” I say with a smile so she knows I’m not truly angry with her.
She grins sheepishly. “I’m sorry, but I thought I was doing the right thing. You’re not staying with Chris, are you?”
“Really? You used to love Chris. Now you’re trying to sabotage our relationship?”
“I loved Chris until he left you.” She closes her laptop and pout
s for a moment. “Don’t get me wrong, Chris is hot and he’s got money coming out of his ears and he wants to take care of you and be there for you… now. Where was he when you needed him most?”
I take a seat at the desk and shrug. “Yeah, well, the same could be said about Adam. He broke up with me the same day I had a meltdown in the hospital. I wouldn’t exactly call that being there for me.”
“Yeah, but I’ll bet Adam wasn’t in Hawaii fucking a bunch of groupies. And he came back for you just a few weeks later. He didn’t wait a whole fucking year.”
I pull the two rings out of my pocket and hold my hand out in front of me for Senia to see. Her eyes widen and she jumps off the bed.
“What the fuck is that? Two rings?”
She snatches the rings out of my hand and holds them both up between her thumb and index finger. She shakes the ring with the bigger diamond. “Chris?” I nod and her jaw drops. “You got two proposals in one night?”
“No. Adam didn’t propose to me. He gave me a promise ring.”
Senia looks relieved. “See? Adam is thinking of what’s best for you. You can’t get married.”
I glare at her. “Chris doesn’t expect me to get married anytime soon.”
She sighs as she hands the rings back. “Whatever. I take it you have both rings because you still haven’t chosen. And I know it’s none of my business, but you know I’ll support you whatever decision you make. I like Chris. I’m just a little pissed at him.”
I place the rings on top of the desk and notice an envelope addressed to me sitting on top of a pile of mail. My name and address are spelled out in precise handwriting with a return address sticker from Phillip E. Lungren in Petaluma, California.
“What’s this?” I ask, holding up the envelope.
Senia shrugs as she goes back to bed. “It came in the mail today.”
I slide my finger under the flap and slide out a folded piece of lined paper. Inside, I find the same neat handwriting and a short letter.
Claire,
You may not recognize my name. Your mother did a good job of protecting you from her past. Henry Wilkins at Northstar Bank contacted me recently. He informed me that you refused the trust fund your mother set up for you before her death. I hope you will reconsider your position on this, as that money is rightfully yours.
I also hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me for my transgressions and that you won’t hold my past against your half-sister. Nichelle just turned seventeen last week and she’s very eager to meet you.
I hope this letter finds you well.
Your father,
Phil