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Claire sits opposite Dad’s desk, her face paling when she sees me. Claire looks a lot like Jess. They have the same golden skin and brown hair, although Claire’s is much more unruly than Jess’. The only difference is Claire’s eyes are grey, the kind of grey that reminds you of a dark cloud looming. Jess’ eyes are bright blue, like the ocean in the Bahamas.
“Hi, Claire.” I offer my hand for her to shake.
“Liam.” She nods, accepting my hand.
A beat of awkwardness looms between us before my dad clears his throat.
“Liam, I was just filling Claire in with some company protocols, since she’ll be working with our cleaning team from now on.”
I scoff at my dad for lying to my face. “Dad, come on.” I say openly, giving him the chance to be honest with me.
“Okay. We were talking about you and Jess.”
I knew it.
“What about us?” I ask as I take a seat next to Claire.
It bothers me more than I’d like to admit that the person who left Jess years ago is fishing for information about her because she can’t find the courage to face her. But I keep that to myself.
“Claire asked if you were together still.” My father says confidently, as though that is any of his business to share. I swallow my anger towards him and turn my attention to Claire.
“We are together, and I plan on keeping her so maybe we should all figure out this issue we all have. I want to protect Jess, but I’m not okay with lying to her.”
My dad goes to speak but Claire beats him to it.
“I’ve been clean for six years.” She blurts out, hesitating before she continues, “I moved to Newcastle after… well, everything. I lived there for around a year, hit rock bottom.” Her eyes flit nervously to my dad before landing on me again. “I moved back to London, still a mess, but that was six years ago. Then I lost my job a few months ago, the company went bust, and we all got laid off, so when I reached out to your dad, he offered me a job.”
I take a minute to process her words and look at my dad for confirmation. “Is that true?” I ask him. He nods his head, a shadow of something flashing across his face before he schools his expression again. “I’m glad to hear you’re sober. That’s really great news.” I smile a genuine smile. “Do you have any intentions of talking to or seeing Jess?” I make sure my voice is even and the words I say are calm because if there is something that is standing between me and Jess, it’s trauma that the woman in front of me caused, so if I can help fix that, then I’m going to give it a good fucking go, but I need to figure out what she’s willing to do here as well.
Claire hesitates, chewing her lip. “I haven’t… I’m not sure.”
I hide my frustration. “Can I ask why?”
“You don’t have to answer that Claire,” my dad interrupts. I shoot him a glare as guilt flashes across his face.
I haven’t forgotten about his threat to my future and why he doesn’t want me telling Jess. We’ve skirted around the awkwardness at work, but I need to hear it from Claire now. I need to understand why I’m going to lie to my girlfriend.
Claire runs a hand through her unruly curls, “No, it's okay… I don’t think she would want to see me. I’m not sure I’m ready to see her.”
Inwardly, my body rages for Jess and how much more she deserves from this woman. Outwardly, I nod and stay completely calm, knowing that any form of anger will make the situation worse.
“Okay,” I say calmly before rising from my seat and fastening my jacket. “Jess and I are going to Paris next week. I don’t like keeping this from her. I’d like you to consider what you would like to do about this. When we are back from Paris, perhaps we can talk with Jess. If she wants to, of course.”
Claire’s expression is unreadable as she flicks between me and my father. “Okay,” she says meekly.
I take one final look at my dad. “Dad, can I have a word?”
I ignore the claw of pressure that’s lodged itself around my gut and continue back to my office.
As I walk into my office, I take a deep, calming breath. Two minutes later, my dad appears, still with the same expression on his face that he had in the room with Claire. The one that I can’t fucking figure out.
“Okay, what is going on?” I ask, wanting to clear the air.
He doesn’t answer, instead he walks over to my window that overlooks the busy London streets and lets out a heavy sigh. “There’s something you don’t know about me.”
My skin prickles, as I move my feet so I’m nearer to him, both of us staring out of the window. My pulse racing, teetering on the edge as I wonder what he’s going to say.
“Before you were born, I was an alcoholic.”
