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I look back on the time I spent with Claire and I’m stunned at how much love we were able to pack into an eight-week relationship. There is no question that I love Claire, but I don’t see us surviving all the obstacles we’ve encountered. I have to go to Australia in March. I’m not giving up surfing again. And I have three competitions between now and March, all of which I’ll have to travel overseas for. Claire needs someone who refuses to leave her.
I asked her last week if Chris was going back on tour and she said he’d rescheduled the tour for the summer. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out he did it for her. I feel like an idiot for not seeing this coming. I’ve been so obsessively focused on getting Claire back; I never stopped to think about what was going on in her life. I never stopped to think about her needs.
Just sitting here in my apartment thinking about this makes me sick to my stomach as I realize I’m about to do to Claire what she did to Chris last year.
I dial her number and my heart pounds harder with every ring. She finally answers just as I’m about to hang up.
“Adam.”
Hearing her say my name, not as a question but as a statement, makes me nervous. Like she has something she wants to tell me and she’s been waiting for me to call.
“Claire, can you talk?”
It’s Tuesday, the day after she was supposed to see Abigail, so I know she just got out of class an hour ago. Sometimes, she’ll ask me to call her back later because she’s studying, but something tells me that she’s not going to do that today.
“Yeah, I’m actually just walking down the path toward your apartment. What number are you in? 14?”
Fuck!
“You’re here?”
My eyes dart toward the corner of the living room, right next to my drafting table, where Lindsay is crouched on the floor, unbuckling Kaia from her car seat. I promised Lindsay I’d watch Kaia today while she goes on a job interview. I’ve never actually babysat an infant, but the idea of Lindsay leaving Kaia with a babysitting service or a neighbor filled me with all sorts of conflicted feelings—mainly fear.
“Just stay where you are and I’ll meet you outside,” I blurt into the phone as I leap over the coffee table and rush toward the front door.
“I’m already here,” Claire says as the doorbell rings.
Lindsay looks back at me over her shoulder as she scoops Kaia out of the car seat. “Who’s that?”
In the span of about one second, multiple scenarios play out in my mind. I can meet Claire outside the apartment and talk to her there, but it’s raining so that would seem very odd. I can ask Lindsay to hide in my bedroom, but that would be even more awkward since she’s leaving for her job interview in a few minutes. I guess I’ll have to introduce Claire and Lindsay to each other and hope for the best.
“It’s Claire,” I say as I reach for the doorknob.
Opening the door, the sight of Claire makes my stomach twist. She’s dressed in a beautiful blue dress, some tights, and knee-high brown boots. She’s shaking out her black umbrella and all I can think of is how I was once Claire’s umbrella, her shelter from the storm. But, once again, I’m about to become the rain.
She looks up from her umbrella, but she doesn’t smile. “Do you have a minute?”
I want to say, “For you, I have infinite minutes,” but that would be weird with Lindsay standing just a few feet behind me.
“Yeah, of course. You didn’t tell me you were coming over,” I say as I open the door wider for her to come in.
As soon as she steps over the threshold, bringing with her the smell of rain and soft perfume, she and Lindsay see each other. I hold my breath as I wait for one of them to say something.
Lindsay is dressed in a pencil skirt and a blazer—interview clothes—as she cradles six-week old Kaia. I can only imagine what this must look like to Claire who still knows nothing about the paternity scare in Hawaii.
“Lindsay, this is Claire. Claire this is Lindsay… and Kaia.”
I try not to sound nervous, but that’s pretty much impossible right now.
Claire smiles at Lindsay then turns to me. “Am I interrupting something?”
“No, Lindsay was just dropping off Kaia. She has a job interview.”
I feel like I should clarify that Kaia is not my child, but I can’t bring myself to say those words. Even though Kaia isn’t my biological daughter, I feel like saying this aloud will give Lindsay the impression that I don’t feel a connection to Kaia. And, as much as I didn’t want this to happen, I can’t deny this girl has burrowed her way into my heart with those tiny fingers.
Lindsay holds out her hand to Claire. “Nice to meet you, Claire.” They shake hands and Lindsay turns to me. “Are you sure you’re okay to watch her alone?”
I don’t know if she’s trying to imply that she doesn’t want Claire to hang out with me while I’m watching Kaia, but I highly doubt Claire will want to hang out aft
er I say the things I’ve been planning to say to her.
“I’m fine,” I say, reaching for Kaia. “Give her here.”
Lindsay smiles as she kisses Kaia’s forehead then hands her over. The look on Claire’s face is pure confusion and heartbreak as she watches me take Kaia into my arms. Fuck. She’s probably thinking of Abigail.
“Sorry I can’t hang out. I’ve heard so much about you,” Lindsay says to Claire as she squeezes past her then turns to me. “I should be back in an hour or two. She just took a nap; so don’t let her fall asleep. I need her to sleep tonight.”
“Got it,” I reply. “Good luck.”
I close the front door as Lindsay takes off. The sound of rain and Kaia’s gurgles punctuate the silence as Claire stares at Kaia.
“Is she… yours?”
I shake my head, still not able to verbalize this denial. “She’s Lindsay and Nathan’s, but Nathan decided to ditch Lindsay a few weeks ago, so I’ve been helping her out while she tries to find a job.”
“Is that why she called you when we were at the game?”
“Yeah, come on in and sit down.” I nod toward the living room, which looks very similar to my living room in Wrightsville, except for the glass doors that lead off onto a patio; huge glass doors where the light pours in when it’s not raining.
Claire appears conflicted as she takes a seat on the sofa where I once gave her multiple orgasms. Trying not to grin, I think of the time I made her scream so loudly that Cora made Tina come upstairs to my apartment and check on us. I can only imagine how embarrassing that was for Tina.
“Well, I came because you said you had something to talk to me about. I have something I need to talk to you about, too.”
She keeps looking at Kaia with hesitation and I feel like, before I say anything, I need to know how her visit with Abigail went.
“First tell me how everything went last night.”
She looks down at her hands in her lap and smiles, the kind of smile that makes me think that it went very well.
“She is so beautiful,” she says, and her voice is barely louder than a whisper. “I wish I hadn’t cried in front of her, but I couldn’t help myself. She’s perfect. It was the best and worst moment of my life, but I’m still on a high from it.”
She looks up from her lap and the smile on her face is unlike any smile I’ve ever seen.
“You look so happy.”
“I am.”
Kaia’s fingers grab onto the front of my shirt and I look down at her round eyes and dainty nose. She looks so much like Lindsay. Even the way she’s drooling reminds me of all the times Lindsay would drool on my chest while we slept. I miss that closeness; that security of going to sleep knowing you’ll always wake up with the person you love right next to you.
Then it dawns on me that Claire came here to talk to me unannounced instead of waiting for me to call her, like we had agreed. Suddenly, I have a feeling that I wasn’t the only one with some bad news to bear.
“Why did you come here?” I ask. “Not that I don’t want you here, but I thought I was supposed to call you.”
She turns away from me and glances around the apartment before she answers. Then she reaches into her purse and my heart stops. I was right.
She pulls her hand out of the purse and holds it out to me, palm up, so I can see the promise ring I gave her six weeks ago. I turn back to Kaia because I don’t want to look at it. It fills me with shame to think that I lost, even if I was prepared to give up five minutes ago.
“I’m sorry, Adam.”
“You don’t have to apologize.”
“Yes, I do. Please look at me.”
I look her in the eye because I don’t want to look at the ring. “I don’t want the ring. It’s yours. It’s not like I’m going to give it to someone else.”
“I can’t take it.”
“You mean you don’t want to take it.”
Her fingers curl around the ring as she makes a fist. “Adam, I’m sorry I brought you into this mess, but I’m not sorry about the time we spent together. I’ll always cherish that and I’ll always be grateful that you were there for me when I needed someone. You will always own a piece of me. But this is a piece of you that I can’t keep.”
She sets the ring on the coffee table and pulls her purse into her lap.
