Eva shrugs. “Maybe. Either way, you’re welcome to come inside, or at least have your friends come inside while you call her.”
I nod, and walk back to the limo. It’s taking everything inside me not to scream.
Jack unrolls the window.
“What’s up man? You look awful. Did she ... not give you the a-ok?”
I shake my head, unable to form the words.
“Dude, you’re freaking me out,” McQueen says. “Get in the car and explain.”
“No,” I say, cracking my knuckles. “You need to come in the apartment. I think I’ll be a while.”
The guys get out of the car, and Jack places his hands on my shoulders. “Seriously, you look like shit. What did she say?”
“Claire’s married.”
“What the fuck?” McQueen shouts.
“Eva is going to explain, she said it might take a while.”
“And you had no idea?” Jack asks.
“None.” I feel my phone vibrating in my pocket. I pull it out and see that it’s Claire. She’s called a few times and texted a bunch. “It’s Claire.”
“You need some fucking answers.” Jack looks unsure.
I want to punch something. “Claire should have told me, right?”
“Fuck, yeah,” McQueen says. “She’s fucking playing you.”
I put my phone on silent, not knowing how I feel about any of this. Especially Claire.
The front door of the condo is slightly ajar and we step inside gingerly. “Hello?” I call out as we walk down the hallway.
“In here,” Eva says. We walk in the living room and see Sophia sitting on a sofa with a tablet in her hands. She looks up.
“Who are you?” she asks. Her lips are heart-shaped just like her mother’s, her green eyes wide and curious.
“We’re friends of your mother’s,” I tell her. “I’m Landon, and this is McQueen and Jack.”
She sets down the tablet and walks over to us. Offering a low curtsy, she says, “Pleased to meet you. I’m Sophia.”
I smile despite the fact that I feel sucker punched. How can Claire be married? Keeping her daughter a secret is one thing ... but a husband?
My heart pounds in my chest, I need to fight—go to McQueen’s gym and beat the shit out of something.
Sophia’s voice brings me back to reality.
“Are you okay, mister?” Sophia asks. “You look mad.”
“I’m good. Thank you, though.” I give her a crooked smile, the best I can manage.
“How do you know my mama?”
This riles me up even more. I know I must look like a deranged fool: nostrils flared, hands clenched. I need some information. Fast.
I need to call Claire. This can’t fucking wait.
“Give me a moment,” I tell them, leaving through the front door.
In the parking lot, I call Claire’s number. I have to hear this story from her.
Not from her mother. Not from her daughter.
From the woman I wanted to be my fucking forever.
“Landon?” she asks. “Where are you? Is everything okay?”
“Don’t. Don’t ask me those sorts of questions. I’m the one who is going to do the talking now.”
“What’s going on?” she asks again, as if she has no clue what she’s been keeping from me.
“Is there anything you’d like to tell me?”
“Actually, yeah, there is. That’s why I’ve been calling and texting. I wanted to talk to you about something really important, but then you just skipped town. Without a word. That’s not how relationships work, Landon.”
“How do they work then, Claire? Tell me exactly how relationships work. Actually, scratch that—tell me how marriages work.”
“Marriages? I don’t know how marriage works. Landon. What is going on?”
“I’m at your mother’s house.”
The call goes quiet. Good. I want her to know this is not some fucking joke. This is my life, my heart. I wanted to give her all of it.
“Why are you there, Landon?” Her voice is soft, scared.
I’m pacing the concrete lot; my shoulders are tense, my mind racing. “I’m here because I came to in Vegas to get us a fucking house. To find a proper job. To ask your mother for your bloody hand in marriage.”
I hear her sharp intake of breath, as if she’s trying to control her tears, but I don’t care about her tears right now. I just want to bloody understand.
“And do you know what your mother told me?” I ask. “When I asked to marry you, her only daughter?”
“Oh, God.”
“What the fuck, Claire? I love you. And you have a husband?” I punch the brick wall in front of me, and my hand comes away bloodied, my heart bruised. But I don’t fucking care. I just need to understand.