by Whitney G.
“Yes, sir...Are you still meeting with the ring designer this afternoon?”
“No. Cancel that please.” I hung up. I’d called Miss Valenti yesterday to ask if Claire had ever stopped by to design my ring and—surprise, surprise, she hadn’t.
I knew I’d previously joked with her about not knowing who she was anymore when she revealed that she’d been taking erotic dance classes, and when I found her in that bondage room at her bachelorette party. But with our wedding falling apart at the seams and her ex-husband slipping into her life again, I could honestly say that I didn’t know who she was right now.
She wasn’t acting like the Claire I loved...
**
I rolled over in my bed, reaching for Claire—cursing at myself for even doing that. It’d been a week and a half since we’d last spoke and her phone calls to me still came every hour on the hour.
I was still staying in my executive suite at the office, collecting the notes she dropped off and actually reading the more recent ones. The one she’d sent yesterday read, “You are the only love of my life. Please hear me out—Claire.” And the one she’d sent today read, “I miss when you used to send notes with the flowers...That’s what made them special...”
I could practically picture her face as she received my note-less flowers, could literally see her shaking her head and trying not to cry. As much as it hurt me to know that she was in pain, I couldn’t bring myself to console her because I was hurting too...
I looked at my watch: 2:58. Even though I was still hurt—beyond hurt, I figured that when she called this time, I would try to pick up.
At exactly three o’clock, my phone rang and I held it up to my ear.
“Hello?” I tried to hide the pain in my voice.
“Hey, Jonathan.” It was Caroline.
“Caroline? Hey, how are you?”
“I’m okay. Me and Ashley want to come home this weekend and eat dinner with you and mom if that’s okay...We’re kinda tired of campus food.”
“That’d be fine. I’ll...I’ll set that up. Is that all?”
“Almost. Do you think me and Ash are identical-identical or just identical?”
“What do you mean?”
“Like, how long did it take you to figure out who was who after we’d met you for the first time?”
“A week.” I laughed. “Why?”
“Good enough. I’m going to ask Ashley to take the rest of my tests for Strategy Physics.”
“Excuse me?” I heard her gasp and I knew she hadn’t meant to say that last sentence out loud. “You’re going to risk expulsion? Is that what you just said, Caroline?”
“What?! No...”
“You have ten seconds to tell me what the hell is going on. Don’t you dare bullshit me.”
She sighed. “I missed the first two weeks of classes because I overslept...I went out partying every night and—I mean it’s Physics, like my best subject. Or so I thought...I can’t get into the flight program with less than a B minus...”
“And?”
“This isn’t like regular physics...It’s a strategic level course. It’s not about how many you get right, it’s about which ones you get right. Apparently the problems I pick to solve are the ones only worth two points...” Her voice cracked. “There are only four tests this semester and I already failed the first one. Terribly. I need to make an A on every single one to get the B minus average...”
“I take it that Ashley isn’t failing?”
“Ha! Are you kidding me?” She scoffed. “Of course not. Strategy is her best asset. She has the highest score in the class. I tried to get her to help me, but I just don’t get it...”
I shook my head, telling her how disappointed I was that she would even think to ask Ashley to cheat for her, and that I was upset because she wasn’t taking college seriously. I told her that I would hire a private tutor for her, but she’d have to commit to twenty hours’ worth of sessions a week—at night, during party hours. I knew that was the only way she’d take it seriously.
She sounded like she was trying not to cry, but I could tell that she was. “When will I start the tutoring?”
“Tonight. I’ll have Greg fly out to get you. I’ll help you with some of it here.”
“Okay...Thank you...” She sniffled one more time before hanging up.
Claire’s four o’clock call came across my phone and I wanted to pick it up, but I couldn’t.
Instead, I ordered two kettles of Caroline’s favorite hot chocolate and had a local candy store set up a small sweets bar in my office. I figured that a long night of physics problems would keep me from thinking about Claire.
It was a little after eight o’clock when I heard knocking at my door.
“One second.” I set a few calculators on my desk and opened it.
It was Claire. And Caroline. And Ashley.
“Hello, ladies.” I avoided looking directly at Claire. I knew she’d been crying by the way she’d done her makeup, by the way she’d brushed her hair over her face, but I couldn’t bring myself to say anything to her.
“Just because I have an A in the class doesn’t mean that I don’t want to be whisked away in the private jet, Jonathan.” Ashley grabbed a chocolate stick from the candy bar. “I’m offended that I didn’t get a call. Don’t you love me, too?”
I rolled my eyes and showed them over to my desk. “Let’s get started, shall we?”
While Caroline took out her books, I let my eyes follow Claire over to the couch where she was placing her head on a pillow. As I went over problems with the girls, she lay curled up in a ball, watching us without saying a word.
As usual, Ashley and Caroline were great learners. They watched every equation I broke down, and asked questions whenever they didn’t understand.
It took a while—five hours, for Caroline to finally grasp what she was doing wrong, but I gave her problem after problem to make sure she wouldn’t forget anytime soon.
“Finally! It took you long enough to figure that one out!” Ashley smiled at Caroline’s paper. “I think we should do this again next weekend. Do you know how many pictures I put up on Twitter of the two of us in your jet? Wait until people see that we can do that anytime we want...”
“Your modesty never ceases to amaze me.” I stood up. “Do you think you have a better handle on it now, Caroline?”
She nodded. “Yes, thank you so much...”
“Anytime. I’ll have a tutor for you tomorrow night. Greg is waiting downstairs to take you back to the airstrip.”
They both hugged me and Claire before walking out of my office and I felt my heart swelling. I was still getting used to having a family, but I liked it. A lot.
As soon as I heard the ping of the elevators, I turned around and looked at Claire. I narrowed my eyes at her and tried to walk over, but I couldn’t do it.
I still didn’t have anything to say.
I walked into my executive suite and lay across my bed. I’d hoped she would simply fall asleep on the couch and let me talk whenever I was ready, but I felt her slipping into bed next to me.
“Please let me explain,” she whispered.
I didn’t say anything.
“I was leaving Starbucks when he showed up... He sat down at my table and asked me to give him two minutes to talk. I didn’t want to, and I swear I wasn’t going to, but there was this look in his eyes.”
“Is there a point coming?”
She took a deep breath. “I told him to say whatever he had to say and when he told me Amanda was terminally ill...I felt bad, but I left anyway...Then he followed me to my car and we started arguing...I tried to fight him off, but he—”
“Do you still have feelings for him, Claire?” I finally turned around to face her. “Don’t tell me what you think I want to hear. Tell me the fucking truth. Even though he ripped your heart to the point where I had to fight you every inch of the way to put it back together, even though he cheated on you with your best fucking friend
and left you miserable for years, do you still have feelings for him?”
“No! No, I promise. There’s nothing there.”
“Are you sure? Is there a reason why you still haven’t designed my wedding band? Why the invitations I could’ve sworn you sent out weeks ago, have still not arrived in any of my friends’ mailboxes? Or better yet, can you please explain why the cakes we both agreed on were canceled as of two weeks ago and you chose not to tell me?”
“Jonathan—”
“What the fuck is the problem, Claire? Why are you self-sabotaging the wedding you begged me to have?”
“I’m not sabotaging anything—I would never...It’s just...I can’t explain it right now, but as far as Ryan goes, you can’t possibly think that I—”
“The moment he sat down at your table at Starbucks, or the moment you decided to have a chat with him—however it happened, you should’ve called me immediately. Period. You don’t belong to him anymore. You have no obligations to him and you don’t owe him a fucking thing. You are mine and this is last time that I’m going to re-iterate that fact to you, Claire. Mine. Not his. Not anyone else’s.” I clenched my jaw. “Do you still not understand what that means?”
“Yes...” she murmured.
I got out of the bed. “I have some work to do. Do you need Greg to take you home when he gets back?”
“No...I want to stay here with you...”
“Fine.” I pulled a blanket over her and tucked her in. Then I handed her the remote. “Good night.”
I walked into my office and took out a bottle of scotch. I poured myself a glass, downed it, then quickly poured another.
Why is she so infuriating? Why does she still have the power to get to me like this?
I sat at my desk and started going over my latest product’s numbers. I turned on my laptop and spotted the video that the security team had made for me from Starbucks, the video I still couldn’t bring myself to watch.
“Jonathan...” Claire’s soft voice made me look up.
“Yes, Claire?”
“Are you going to sit out here and stay mad at me all night?” Her voice cracked. “Or are we going to talk about everything so we can fix this?”
I didn’t answer. I just stared at her.
“Fine.” She shrugged as tears fell down her face. “I’m going to check into the Fairmont hotel for the rest of the week because I can’t take living in our house alone anymore. If you want to talk to me, that’s exactly where I’ll be...And if you want to cancel the wedding because you honestly think I would choose my piece of shit ex-husband over you or that I would purposely try to ruin our special day, then...” She couldn’t even finish her sentence.
She looked at me in utter pain and it took a lot for me not to stand up and comfort her, for me not to wrap her in my arms and tell her to stay the night with me. Yet, my heart was a mess and she hadn’t answered any of my questions about the invitation and cake issues.
Nodding her head slowly, she said, “I hope I’ll see you in my room soon” before walking out of my office in tears.
Chapter 15
Claire
I woke up in the middle of the night and reached for Jonathan—turning over to see if he’d finally come to the hotel, but he wasn’t there.
I dragged myself out of bed and into the living room, hoping to see him waiting in the living room, but the only thing new was a note from the front desk: “Thank you for allowing us to be your temporary home, Mrs. Statham. We hope that you keep us in mind for future stays.”
I’d been too miserable to realize that I’d never formally “checked in.” As soon as I’d arrived, a valet helped me out of the car and the manager personally walked me up to my room. No questions asked.
He can call the hotel but he can’t call me?
I looked into the small foyer and saw that he’d sent another bouquet of flowers for me today—like he’d been doing all week, but there was no note. Nothing.
I headed for the bathroom and immediately turned on the hot water. I was going to need one hell of a bubble bath to get back to sleep.
Tossing off my robe, I slipped into the tub and let the water rise over me as I sat there. Stunned.
While he had every reason to think that the wedding arrangements were odd, he had to know that I would never give Ryan the time of day again, that I would never allow him to walk back into my life for any reason whatsoever. Then again, every time I thought about how the two of us must have looked in that parking lot, my heart sank a little.
Son of a bitch...
A part of me wanted to find out what room Amanda was staying in so I could finish off her life for her and give Ryan something else to focus on, but I didn’t want to face any part of my past again; Ryan had already done enough.
As the hot water rose up to my chest and grazed the necklace he’d given me, I stretched my foot to switch off the lever. And before I knew it, I was crying. Hard.
The entire week that he hadn’t been at home had been the worst week I’d had in years. I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t eat, and each time he hit ignore on my phone calls, I felt like I couldn’t breathe.
He was my everything and the very thought of him not trusting me—him not talking to me, was too painful to think about.
It hurt even more when Ashley and Caroline called me to tell me about the latest care packages he’d sent, how they’d spoken to him every day last week.
“He told us your first date was on the Golden Gate Bridge! Why didn’t you tell us that back then?” “We reminisced for hours, you should’ve heard us!” “He’s being pretty tight lipped about the wedding lately...He probably has a surprise for you...” “Could you tell him to call us via video chat tomorrow night? And tell him we said we love him since we’re going to be out of range for the rest of the day?”
I scrubbed a loofah over my body and decided to cut my bubble bath short. I needed to go for a run. Now.
I slipped back into my robe and picked up the room phone.
“Fairmont Front Desk,” a woman answered. “How may I help you, Mrs. Statham?”
“It’s Miss Gracen.”
“I’m sorry. Miss Gracen. How may I help you today?”
“Do you all have a gift or a clothing shop downstairs?”
“We do, ma’am. Our gift shop features city collectibles and snacks, and our clothing shop is a mix of swimwear and light season gear at the moment. Would you like us to shut the shop down so you can shop privately?”
“Oh...No, that’s okay. I was just wondering if someone could bring me a jogging suit in a medium size. Just place it on my room tab.”
“Right away, Miss Gracen.” She waited for me to hang up first.
I pulled my hair into a messy knot and splashed my face with cold water to get some of the redness out of my eyes. If it wasn’t for the way they looked, I could’ve passed as perfectly happy right now.
Before I could begin my next series of cold-water face shots, there was a knock at my door.
I made sure my robe was secured and rushed over to open it.
“Good evening, Miss Gracen.” The bellman handed me five black wardrobe bags. “We weren’t sure what color you would like so we brought each one.”
“Thank you very much.” I handed him a tip.
“There’s an indoor running park two miles down. Would you like one of our drivers to escort you there since it’s raining?”
“No, that’s okay...I’m just going to go for a short walk...I have an umbrella. Thank you very much though.” I smiled as I shut the door.
I didn’t care that it was raining. I needed to be outside with fresh air. Besides, I didn’t feel like being around other people. I wanted to be alone.
I slipped into the jogging suit and put on the tennis shoes Greg had brought me earlier in the week. I grabbed my favorite umbrella and my music and looked around for my room key.
There was another knock at my door.
Deep down I wished it was Jonathan, but I k
new the front desk was probably delivering another set of flowers late, so I dragged myself to the door and opened it.
Ryan?!
“Claire, can we please talk?”
I slammed the door in his face and turned away.
I realized the door must have bounced back because I felt him walking behind me.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I snapped.
“Please listen to me...” There were tears in his voice. “Claire, can we...Can we please be civil for five minutes?”
“We’ve gone from five seconds to five minutes? Please.” I tried to walk past him, but he put his hands on my shoulders.
“She doesn’t want to die knowing that you still hate her...” He narrowed his eyes at me. “You don’t have to mean it...You could just say you forgive her.”
“All bullshit aside, Ryan—” I gave him the meanest look I could manage. “Five years ago, I would’ve wanted to die happily married to you. But we don’t always get what we want, do we? Tell her to suck that shit up, or better yet, why don’t you have one of her friends suck you off and then she can feel exactly how I feel.” I left him seething in the living room and rushed to the adjoining room—where another door to the hallway was.
I unlocked the chain at the top and pulled it open. I ran towards the elevators and texted Greg the number “9”—code for emergency. I pressed the down button frantically, hoping a car would come before Ryan found me.
“You were never this mean, Claire.” He rounded the corner. “What happened to you?”
“I guess some people bring out the worst in you. Is it really surprising that a low-life cheater would make me behave like a bitch?”
He narrowed his eyes at me and strolled over, pushing me against the wall by my shoulders. “If you want to be a cold-hearted bitch for the rest of your life, and if you want to marry that asshole of a man you call your fiancé—that’s fine. But what you’re not going to do is disrespect me. I’ve had you—before him, and I know who the fuck you are. You’re coming with me to see Amanda whether you like it or not. Now.”
I tried to fight him off of me—beating my fists against his chest and trying to knee him, but he held me still and changed the tone of his voice.
