Pieces of You(62)

The guilty look on his face is replaced by relief. “Dude, I know you’d rather do pretty much anything other than help me, but I don’t want her to have to stay here alone.”

“And you can’t miss one fucking competition?”

“It’s my last chance to qualify. You already made it. You don’t have to worry about this shit anymore until March. I’ve only got one more shot. I’m paying the entire $1,100 for the test.”

As much as I want to tell him to go to hell, I know that he and Lindsay probably didn’t think they’d have to deal with this because she wasn’t supposed to be due for more than a week. And they sure as hell didn’t expect to run into me here. If this is what it takes to get some peace of mind, I’ll do it.

I don’t even know if this kid is mine and I’m already stressed out. I can’t imagine what Claire has gone through this past year. I should be there with her right now, but I have to handle this first.

“All right. Text me the address for the lab and I’ll pick up the results on Thursday.”

“Thanks so much, bro. You don’t know how much you’ve helped us.” He reaches out to shake my hand and I can’t bring myself to do it.

“I’m not your bro.”

I make it back to the hotel in Hana around two and immediately lie down to watch some TV. I should probably be booking a flight back to Raleigh for this Saturday—after I’ve gone back to Kauai to get my things—but I need to chill out first and think about what I’m going to do if this baby is mine. I have to prepare myself for the possibility that Claire will want nothing to do with me.

I scroll through the pictures on my phone and find the last picture we took together in the Busy Bee Café. Lena took the picture for us. Claire is hugging my arm as she leans her head on my shoulder. I’ve looked at this picture a million times over the past four weeks, but tonight she looks more beautiful than I remember. Maybe it’s the prospect of seeing her next Saturday that is giving me a false sense of hope, giving everything a rosy tint.

Even if this baby is mine, I’m going to try to get Claire back. I can’t live without her.





Chapter Twenty-Nine





Chris




I DON’T LIKE TALKING ON the phone, but I’ll do it if that’s what it takes to hear Claire’s voice and to make sure I stay on her mind. She picks up on the first ring. A good sign considering this is the first time she’s answered any of my calls since the day we met Abigail’s parents.

“You deposited $10,000 into my account?”

Not the greeting I was hoping for, but not totally unexpected. “It’s not a big deal. I’ll make it back by tomorrow night.”

“That’s too much. I can’t accept that. I won’t accept that.”

“Why do you always have to make everything so difficult? Just take the money and you can pay me back later.”

“I will never be able to pay you back ten grand. That’s not pocket change to me. In my world, that’s a lot of money.”

“I didn’t say you had to pay me back in money.”

“I’m hanging up now.”

“That was a joke,” I say, though I’m trying my hardest not to laugh. “Claire, you will never have to pay me back.” She’s silent for a long time; so long that I begin to think she hung up. “Are you still there?”

“Yes,” she whispers. “Chris, I didn’t tell you about what happened the day I ran into you at the concert two months ago.”

“What happened?”

She pauses again and I’m starting to worry. “Before the concert, I went to Northstar Bank in Raleigh because I got a letter from them saying I have a trust fund in my name worth more than two-hundred grand.”

“What? How is that possible?”

I don’t say it aloud, but we both know that Claire grew up with nothing, even when her mother was alive. I don’t like bringing up her mother. I never have. It upsets her just the way she’s obviously upset right now.

“My father has been depositing money into the account for years. I guess he did it so my mom would keep quiet about the fact that he raped her when she was seventeen.”

Fuck. The last thing I wanted to do when I deposited that money into her account was bring up these kinds of memories.

“I’m sorry, Claire. I feel like a total dick now.”

“That’s not the worst part.” She heaves a long sigh before she continues and I wish I were there to comfort her. “My mother’s overdose wasn’t a mistake.”

“I’m coming over.”

“You can’t drive. Don’t be stupid.”