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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.”

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