Chapter 7 – Claire and Rawls

. Mary was the first to speak that broke the tension. "So, Claire, tell us about your day. You have been working such long hours lately and we haven't been able to catch up." I could see that Claire really did not want to say a word, because she was just picking at her dinner. I needed to figure out a way to get her by herself to see how she is and try to explain how I am feeling as well.

"It was the same old stuff. Just work." I did not even look up from my plate, because I could not look into Rawls’ eyes. I know that the only thing I would see there was pity. He had to see me as some love sick puppy.

Her voice was strained, and the sadness in it was like a punch to my gut. She clearly did not want to be here, across from me, but the thought of her mother's interrogation was probably worse. I completely understood. If I were in her shoes, I would want to avoid the topic of my love life too, especially if it was a sore spot for me.

After dinner, Rawls offered to help clean up the dishes. "It's okay. I've got it. Just go hang out with dad, please." I could not handle him in the same room with me right now. There has not been a night that I have not cried into my pillow until I fall into a fitful sleep. After the busy day that I had, I just needed to be left alone. But he was not budging from the spot next to me.

But I could see in her eyes that she was still upset. I took a plate from her and started to dry it, anyway, hoping she would open up to me. We worked in silence for a few minutes until I could not take it anymore. "Look, I know you're mad at me. I'm mad at myself too," I said, looking into her eyes.

Her expression remained unchanged as she handed me another plate. "Mad? I'm not mad. I'm just...tired," she replied, her voice low and measured. But I knew better. The sadness in her voice was clear as day. "You don't have to pretend with me," I said gently. “I know I hurt you."

“Mr. Buchanan, the best thing to do for me is to just go home. It was a mistake that I even called you the other night. I do not need anyone to take care of me and I should have just figured it out on my own. I made that mistake that I will not be making again.” I turned my back on him. I did not mean what I said but I needed him to believe it. He finally walked away. I heard voices from the living room and then I heard the front door close. I felt the weight come up off of my shoulders.

Mom came into the kitchen after Rawls left. She looked at me with a mix of confusion and worry. “Is everything okay, sweetheart?” she asked as she brought in the last plate from the dinner table.

"Yes, mom. Everything's fine," I lied, forcing a smile that felt as brittle as glass. "I'm just tired. I've had a really long week." It wasn't the truth, but it was the best I could manage. The house felt too small with Rawls here, his presence a constant reminder of the pain I was trying to bury.

I could feel mom looking at me with concern. Her eyes were searching for something unsaid. But she didn't press the issue. "Alright, sweetie," she said with a gentle hug. "Why don't you go take a bath, and I'll bring you some tea?"

I nodded and headed up to the bathroom, shutting the door firmly behind me. The hot water was a welcome relief, washing away the day's tension and the emotional weight of seeing Rawls. As I sank into the tub, my mind drifted to the night we had spent together. The way we touched each other. The way he took care of me. It had felt so right, and yet, everything had gone so wrong since then.

I could hear the faint murmur of my parent's voices as they were in the living room. The sound grew softer as I submerged my head underwater, trying to drown out the thoughts of what could have been. When I emerged, the house was quiet, which meant dad had gone to bed early. My mom's footsteps grew closer, and she gently knocked on the door.

"Here's your tea, honey," she said as she pushed the door open. "And I brought some cookies."

The sweet scent of mint and chocolate filled the room, and I took the cup from her with a nod of thanks. "Thanks, mom," I said, my voice a little shakier than I intended. She looked at me with a knowing smile, setting the plate of cookies on the edge of the tub before leaving the room. "And Claire, baby, I am here for you if you need to talk about anything." I gave her the best smile that I could. She nodded, left the bathroom and closed the door behind her.

Once I was alone, the tears that had been threatening to spill over finally fell. The warmth of the tea did nothing to combat the coldness I felt inside. The words I had said to Rawls echoed in my mind, and I wondered if I had made the right decision. Maybe I should have told him how much he meant to me; how much I needed him. But fear had held me back, fear of getting hurt again, fear of ruining the friendship we had built over the years.