Pieces of You(12)

“Oh, honey. You’re home,” she murmurs into my ear as she smoothes down my hair.

I tighten my arms around on her and breathe in her soft, floral scent. I don’t want to let go.





Chapter Six





Chris




WATCHING CLAIRE AND MY MOM comforting each other fills me with the worst kind of longing for the way things used to be. Claire should have spent the last year here, not bouncing around from the dorm to Senia’s house then to that apartment. She needed us and because of my stupid pride she suffered alone.

They finally release their grip on each other and my mom brushes the tears away from Claire’s face. Claire’s eyes are red as hell the way they get when she’s crying uncontrollably. I’ve seen that look on her too many times.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t come sooner,” she says.

“That’s water under the bridge. The important thing is that you came back and that you never, ever do that to me again.”

This gets a small, congested chuckle and a smile out of Claire, but the pain she’s hiding from my mom quickly returns to her dainty features.

“All right, that’s enough,” I say. “Claire has to freshen up so we can get going.”

“Oh, poo. You just got here,” my mom complains as she glares at me across the kitchen. “You can’t leave yet. You two can hang out later. Let me have some time with my girl.”

Claire looks at me and I can’t help but gaze at her for a moment. I love that Claire has never been good at hiding her emotions. It took almost a year after she arrived at our house for her to allow herself to be vulnerable in front of anyone. But once I tore down those walls I fell irrevocably in love with her. She’s so hard on herself, but I’ve never met anyone more loving than Claire.

I know she gave up Abigail for both of us. I have no doubt that she believed she was making the right decision. But I can’t reconcile the girl I fell in love with—the same girl who made me wait more than two years to have sex with her—with this girl who fell in love with a guy she’s known less than two months. Is this guy better than I or did I just leave her heart wide open for him to get inside?

“Stop staring at her, Chris,” my mom says and I’m snapped out of my thoughts.

Claire looks down at the floor. She knows I’m thinking about something we can’t discuss openly in front of my mom.

“Sorry, Mom, but we have to go. I have to get Claire back to the dorm soon so she can study. I’ll bring her by another time. I promise.”

The disappointment on my mom’s face kills me. She nods, looking a bit defeated, then turns to Claire and grabs her hands.

“In case I don’t see you anytime soon—”

“I’ll be back. I—”

“Shh! I don’t want you to promise me you’ll be back soon. I know you’ve got classes and lots of studying and parties and all that college nonsense. I just want you to promise me you’ll come home for Christmas. It just wasn’t any fun without you last year. Right, Chris?”

Fuck. Knowing Claire, she’s going to think I put my mom up to this.

“Mom, Claire probably already has plans for Christmas. Let’s not put any more pressure on her.”

“Oh, come on. You were miserable without Claire here last Christmas.” She turns to Claire in full gossip-mode. “You should have seen him. He was a mess, brooding in the bedroom with his guitar for days.”

“Come on. She doesn’t want to hear that shit.”

Claire wipes the tears from her cheeks as she stares at me. She’s not thinking about how pathetic I am. She’s thinking of how sorry she is for not being here last Christmas. I want to tell her that she has nothing to feel guilty about, but I can’t speak openly about any of that stuff here.

She finally turns away to face my mom. “I’ll be home for Christmas if I have to crawl here.”

I try not to let this statement get my hopes up, but right now I’m just insanely grateful that my mom seems to be more convincing than I am. They embrace again and I give them a moment before I break up the love-fest.

“All right, all right. You guys can cuddle some more later. Claire and I have to get going.”

I place my hand on the small of Claire’s back, something I’ve done a million times, but this time I expect her to push my hand away or shoot me a severe look. She doesn’t do either. She allows me to lead her out of the kitchen and up the stairs to her old room where she can fix her hair and makeup. I open the bedroom door and wait as she stands at the threshold for a moment.

I take a few steps inside and turn around. “We didn’t change anything. It didn’t feel right since it’s still your room.”