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“No,” she croaked.
“Right, okay then. Wash up, and I’ll be there as fast as I can.” I hung up and rushed to gather my things.
“Everything okay?” Keith asked, his voice and eyes full of concern. God, why did he always have to be so considerate?
“Yes. And no. Chris, jerk of the century, strikes again. Shocker, I know. I need to take off. You got everything under control here?”
“Of course. Go. I’m sorry about Chris, and I hope things look up for Claire,” he told me.
His voice—just drenched in sweetness. Ugh, I needed him to stop.
I drove back home as fast as I could to pick up Claire and drive her to the school. She was late, which put everything a little behind. But not a single soul at the school cared. The teachers and students loved her so much, they would have waited all day for her if that’s what it took.
It was heartwarming to see her be reunited with those kids. They showered her with gifts and drawings and little signs they had made. I saw Claire light up in a way that hadn’t happened since before the accident. I was glad to see her so happy, but it only made me hate Chris more. He should have been there for her that day. Not just because he promised everyone he would be, but because he should have wanted to support his wife. He should have been there to see how happy she looked.
On the way home, we decided to stop for some fried food. That was just the thing she needed to cheer her up. As thrilled as she was to see everyone again, I knew she’d be hit with sadness afterward for all the time she was missing out of the school year. She loved her job and the people she worked with, and seeing them again would only make her miss it all even more.
We stopped by the Fish Shack for some fried fish and sat out on the patio to enjoy the evening air as we ate it. A storm was supposed to roll through that night, and it sent the coolest breeze rolling through town—which was a nice break from all the summer heat.
We made it about halfway through our meal before I couldn’t hold it in anymore.
“Alright, I just have to say it,” I snapped. “Chris is a jerk for what he did to you today, and for a lot of what he’s been doing lately. I usually keep this kind of stuff to myself, but…I don’t know what my best friend, who is also the sweetest person I know, sees in him.”
Claire rolled her eyes with a smile. “You’ve been holding that in for a long time now, huh?”
“Is it that obvious?” I smirked.
“Lana, sometimes it’s hard for people you actually like to tell if you’re mad at them or not. When it comes to people you dislike?” She laughed out loud. “You’re not exactly subtle.”
“Then it shouldn’t be so shocking to hear me say…You deserve better,” I ventured to say.
“Oh, stop,” she said dismissively.
“I mean it, Claire. I wasn’t so sure I was going to tell you, but…the other day, I came home after your PT appointment. You were asleep, and Chris was still home. He kept insisting we hang out…that we sit down and have a beer together. I hate even saying this to you…but I got this feeling he was…flirting with me.”
I let out a shaky breath, anxiously waiting for her reply. I didn’t want Claire to hate me for telling her the truth, but I knew people had a tendency to shoot the messenger.
“What makes you think he was flirting with you?” she asked. There was a seriousness to her voice that put me on edge. Part of me thought she might just laugh it off and say it was fine, the way she did with everything when it came to Chris.
“You really want to know?”
She nodded, listening intently.
“Well…I caught him staring at my butt, then at my boobs,” I confessed.
“He’s a man,” she defended. “And you know, with all of this,” she waved over her wheelchair. “It’s not like we’ve been getting it on or anything. You’re a stone-cold fox right in front of him, and…you know, Chris is such a nerd anyway. I bet he didn’t even realize you could see him staring.”
I drew my brows together. “It really doesn’t bother you that your husband would ogle your best friend?”
She looked uncertain. “Did he do or say anything else?”
“He was rambling on about things being hard between you two even before the accident,” I pushed myself to say. “And he kept talking about wanting to get out of his head and feel good.” I shuddered with the memory of him saying it as he stared down my body. “Honestly, Claire…it made me really uncomfortable.”
“Do you want me to ask him to stay somewhere else?” she asked earnestly. “I’ll do that for you if you tell me to. You spent a huge chunk of your life growing up in that house, and it’s just as much your home as it is mine or his. If you need him to go away for a while…”
“Claire, no,” I insisted, placing my hand on her arm. “I would never ask you to do that. He’s your husband. If you’re okay with the way he’s behaving, the way he’s treating you…”
I questioned her with my eyes. For a brief moment, I thought she might finally break down and stop defending him. She was trying to play it off, but I could tell everything I said bothered her.
