Pieces of You(29)

“What the fuck? Why do I always miss the action?” Chris complains.

I resist the urge to punch him in the arm the way I would have when we were together. Those days are over. He’s allowed to make comments like that in front of me now.



After the show, Chris insists I allow him to drive me to my car a couple of blocks away.

“Those girls will rip you to shreds if you walk out there alone,” he says as he opens the passenger door of the Porsche. “You saw how they were looking at you while you were sitting on the side of the stage, like you were a cockroach.”

Sitting on the side of the stage tonight, the way I used to, was an uncomfortable experience for me. Not because I had to watch Chris flashing his crowd smile at the girls in the first few rows of bodies. It was uncomfortable because of the way I felt when the same girls cast dirty looks in my direction while Chris performed “Relentless.” He kept glancing at me during this song, and the crowd noticed. I should have felt annoyed with Chris, but instead it felt kind of cool to be so envied. I don’t want to feel that way.

“Just take me to my car,” I say as I grab the handle to shut the car door, but he holds on to keep me from closing it. “What are you doing?”

He stares at me for a moment, looking like he’s about to say something, then he shakes his head and shuts the door. Suddenly my entire body is zinging with a dreadful nervous energy. I hope he doesn’t try anything. I don’t want to have to reject Chris.

He slides into the driver’s seat and chuckles as he turns the key in the ignition.

“What’s so funny?” I ask as I buckle my seatbelt.

“Nothing,” he replies as the engine purrs around us.

He casts me a sideways look that sends chills through me. I rub my arms to feign cold as he pulls out of the parking lot and takes a few side streets to bypass the crowds leaving the club. When we arrive at my car, there’s a crowd of girls passing by and one of them points at the Porsche when she recognizes Chris.

“Don’t get out,” he says as I reach for the door handle. “We’ll chill out somewhere for a while, then I’ll bring you back.”

He pulls away quickly before I can protest.

“Hey! I don’t care about those girls. I need to get back to the dorm to study.”

“It’s 11:45.”

“Yeah, I’ll probably be studying until four a.m. Even later if you don’t take me back to my car right now.”

He turns right at the intersection and passes in front of the club where the sidewalk is almost empty now.

“Claire, we need to talk.” I stare out the passenger window as he continues. “I know you asked me not to text you or call you out of respect for your boyfriend, but—”

“His name is Adam and he’d be really fucking pissed if he knew what you were doing right now.”

“I don’t give a shit what his name is or what he’d do. The hard truth is that you need to grow up.”

I turn to him and he’s serious. Not a trace of a smile on his face.

“Don’t look at me like you’re so surprised to hear me say that. I know you made some tough decisions this past year, but you’ve been running from the consequences of those decisions instead of facing them. And you’re still running. We should be able to have a fucking adult conversation concerning our daughter without worrying if we’re going to piss off your boyfriend. By the way, he needs to grow up, too.”

I want to tell him to fuck off. I want to plug my ears or punch him or jump out of his Porsche as it speeds down the boulevard; anything not to have to hear another word of this.

The only thing stopping me is that he’s right.

I take a moment to gather my thoughts before I respond. “You don’t know anything about the decisions I’ve made or what it’s been like living with the consequences of those decisions,” I begin. “After the baby was born and ripped away from me, I….” My throat constricts painfully as I recall the way I felt right after I gave birth to Abigail last April. “I thought I had nothing left to live for.”

This is the first time I’ve spoken to anyone about this. Not even Senia knows how close I came to taking my own life the first week after I moved to Wrightsville Beach. Lately, I’m struggling to make it from one day to the next, but back then I was grasping for every second. It wasn’t until I met Fallon and she taught me how to meditate that I managed to claw my way out of the dark hole I’d almost buried myself in. Just thinking of all the nights I sat on the bathroom floor staring at the razor blade and the bottle of pills sitting on the linoleum floor in front of me fills me with shame.