Pieces of You(40)
“Why doesn’t she know about us?”
“Because I already broke her heart and I’m just becoming a part of her life again. And I need her. She’s the closest thing I have to a mother. Please don’t make me put that in jeopardy.”
“If she’s like a mother to you she’ll understand that you’ve moved on. I think you haven’t told her because you’re not sure you’re ready to move on.”
“What? That’s ridiculous. I… I can’t even believe you would say that. Chris and I are over. We’re just friends and we have to stay that way if we want to have any chance of seeing Abigail.”
Her voice cracks when she says her daughter’s name and I feel awful. Even if I’m still not totally convinced that there’s nothing between her and Chris, I can’t make her feel even guiltier than she already does. I can’t give her a reason to go running to him.
But I also can’t fucking stand knowing that she was at the hospital, lying to the staff, and sitting there with him for God knows how long, all over a broken leg.
“I’m sorry. I feel like you’re slipping through my fingers and I don’t know how to stop it. I don’t…. I don’t even know if I should.”
“What does that mean?”
I pull the car over onto the grass along the highway because I’m getting close to the guard station and I’m not supposed to be using a cellphone when I pull up.
“I mean that I don’t know if I should be trying to fight this. If you feel yourself being pulled to him, maybe I should just let it happen.”
I grab the phone out of the cup holder and take her off speakerphone. I suck in a deep breath and close my eyes as I lean my head against the headrest.
“I don’t want to be with Chris. I want to be with you.”
“I don’t want you to be with him. I want you all to myself, and I’m beginning to see how selfish that must seem. But it’s the fucking truth. I can’t stand that he gets to have you at his side whenever he needs you. I’m just not comfortable with it.”
“Are you saying you want me to stop seeing Chris?”
“Babe, I don’t think you see what’s happening because you want to think the best of him. He’s your first love and the father of your child. I get it. But this is exactly what he wants.”
“He wanted to break his leg?”
“No, he wants to tear us apart.”
“He does want to tear us apart and you’re allowing him to do just that.”
“I’m not allowing him to do shit, but I can’t do anything from here. You don’t understand the fucking lunch meeting I just had.” My stomach clenches as my mind goes over the last hour spent with Larry Cromwell. “I’m chained to this fucking island for the next eight weeks. I can’t blow this job. I can’t swoop in and take you back if Chris gets his way with you, but I want to. I want to show up at your door and take you in my arms. I want to kiss you till you can’t breathe. I want to be next to you and on top of you and inside of you. I want to fucking inhale you and every moment we spend together. But I can’t do that from here. I’m at a huge disadvantage. And I’m not giving up, I’m just telling you that I don’t think I can deal with this shit right now.”
“I don’t like where this conversation is going. I—” Her voice cuts off for a moment before it comes back. “It’s Chris calling me on the other line. He’s supposed to call me and tell me what happened with the meeting between Tasha and Abigail’s mother.”
“Go ahead. I know you have to take this. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
I shake my head as I drop the phone into the cup holder. This is way too much stress to put on a two-month relationship. Claire needs to take care of this stuff with her foster mother and Abigail and Chris. And she needs to study. I need to focus on getting this project set up and training for Koki Beach. If we want to have any chance of coming out the other side of the next eight weeks without hating each other, we need a break.
Chapter Eighteen
Chris
CLAIRE’S VOICEMAIL GREETING COMES ON and I immediately hang up. She’s probably meditating or talking to her boyfriend. I told her I would call her with the news about Tasha’s meeting. I move to lay my phone on the rolling table next to my hospital bed and just this small movement sends a bolt of pain shooting through my right leg and up my spine.
“Fuck!”
The phone vibrates in my hand as Nurse Fran walks into my room. “Is everything all right in here?” she asks as I answer the phone.