Chapter 88
AN: Thanks to Jen for her encouragement on this one! ;)
Nick swung
his Jaguar into a parking space in the lot outside Claire’s apartment complex
and killed the engine. The radio
instantly cut off, filling the car with an awkward silence. In the front seat, Nick and Claire exchanged
glances. What now? Nick wondered,
and she seemed to be thinking the same thing.
Should he walk her up to her apartment, maybe stay and hang out a
while? Or was that no longer
appropriate? Maybe she was just
expecting him to drop her off and leave?
Nick sighed
inwardly in frustration. This day had
gone surprisingly well up until then – they had talked and joked around
together, just like old times, acting as if their broken engagement had never
happened. But now, even though neither
of them had brought it up, it seemed to have wedged itself between their seats,
making the car seem cramped and stuffy.
Nick could feel it, and he was sure Claire could too, seeing as how she
wasn’t moving or speaking either. Why
did this have to be so difficult? Why
had she made it so difficult?
A soft
click broke the silence as Claire finally unbuckled her seatbelt, and Nick
thought he had his answer. She was going
to turn and thank him for the ride and lunch, then reach for the door handle
and climb out of his car. She’d wave
goodbye, then walk into her building without a backwards glance, and that would
be it. He probably wouldn’t see her the
rest of the week, and he’d fly back to LA and stay until he found another
excuse to come home to see her.
But Claire
surprised him. Instead, she turned and
asked, “You wanna come and see my new ‘crib’?”
She made quotation marks with her fingers, offering him a playful smirk.
Nick
smiled, relieved to feel the tension melting away again. “Yeah, sure,” he replied. “In fact, I was just gonna offer to walk you
up… I don’t want you to trip on the stairs or anything; I mean, your depth
perception’s probably funky with that patch covering your eye, right?”
Claire
giggled. “How thoughtful of you,” she
said, giving him a friendly punch in the shoulder. “Come on then, let’s go up.” She reached for the door handle while Nick
swiped his keys from the ignition and unfastened his own seatbelt. He came around to meet Claire, and together,
they crossed the lot to her building.
“What floor
you on?” asked Nick as they walked inside.
“Three.”
“Ah… movin’
on up in the world, huh?” Nick teased.
Her last apartment had been on the second floor.
She
snorted. “That’s one way to put it. I guess there is a better view from the third
floor… but that means one more flight of stairs to climb.” She made a face at the staircase. “There is an elevator… but I’ve been warned
not to use it. Apparently it’s old and
shitty and gets stuck a lot.”
Nick eyed
the single elevator in the corner of the small lobby area and shook his
head. “Well, that’s nice. How considerate of your landlord to make this
place so handicapped accessible,” he remarked with heavy sarcasm.
“Yeah, for
real,” snorted Claire. Then, all of a
sudden, she cast him an anxious look and bit her lip. “Ohh… are you gonna be okay, going up two
flights of stairs?”
Nick
smiled. “You underestimate me, Ren. I’ve gotten a lot better, you know,” he
boasted and hooked his arm around her unbroken one. “Come on.”
Claire
smiled back, and up the stairs they went, slowly because her depth perception
was indeed a little off, and he… well, he always had to take stairs slow these
days. Even so, he was out of breath by
the time they reached the third floor.
But then again, she was panting a little too.
“Once this
arm heals, I gotta start working out more,” she laughed breathily as they
walked down the hallway. “Amber and I
were going to start taking aerobics or something after the baby was born, but
that hasn’t happened yet. Hell, not that
I blame her – if it were me, I’d be taking full advantage of an excuse to get
all fat ‘n’ sassy for awhile. I’m sure
the extra weight will come off eventually, once Kamden’s mobile and she has to
start chasing him everywhere.”
Nick smiled
at the fondness in her voice as she spoke about her nephew; it reminded of the
way he felt about his godson. Suddenly
thinking of Baylee, he opened his mouth to tell her the latest cute Baylee
story from the past week – Leighanne was always bringing him by the studio to
see Brian when they were working, so they’d racked up quite a few cute Baylee
stories – when Claire added, “You’re still working out though, aren’t
you?” She touched his bicep and
smiled. “I can tell. You look great, Nick.”
The way she
said it was sincere, not flirtatiously fake, in the way someone like Leah might
have said it. He smiled and flexed
exaggeratedly, striking a muscleman pose.
“Thanks.”
“No
problem,” she shrugged. “I mean it.”
She stopped
outside a closed door near the end of the hall, number 306. Balancing her purse on her splinted arm, she
dug through it until she found her keys and then crammed them into the
lock. “Here we are,” she said as she opened
the door and ushered Nick in. “My new
home.”
Nick looked
around as he entered the apartment. It
had a beachy feel, decorated in soft shades of green, teal, and coral, with
beige carpeting and blonde wood cabinetry that matched Claire’s old kitchen
table. He was struck by its smallness,
but at least it was clean and fairly new.
“It’s nice,” he commented, running a hand absently over one of the
smooth countertops.
“Thanks. I like it,” she replied with another shrug,
not meeting his eye. Quickly changing
the subject, she asked, “Want anything to drink?” as she flung open her
refrigerator.
“Whatcha
got?” Nick peered in over her shoulder
and frowned at the sparse selection. The
only beverage he saw was a near-empty half-gallon of milk. “Not much, huh?” he answered his own question
with a chuckle.
She
grimaced. “Sorry. I haven’t really been grocery shopping.”
“Well, how
can you, with a busted arm and no wheels?
How come no one’s taken you? You
should have mentioned it earlier; we could have stopped at the store on the way
back here.”
“Oh, don’t
worry about it. I think Kyle and I are
going to run some errands together over the weekend. He calls just about every day to check up on
me.”
“That’s
good,” said Nick, nodding slowly, secretly glad she hadn’t mentioned that prick
Jamie. He wanted Claire to be taken care
of… but not by him.
“I think I
have some juice concentrate in the freezer.
If you’ll help me get the can open, I’ll make that,” said Claire with a
sheepish smile, closing the fridge and opening the freezer instead. “This whole one-handed business kinda sucks.”
Nick
laughed. “Sure thing,” he agreed, taking
the frozen can of raspberry lemonade she handed him and opening it. He dumped the concentrate into the pitcher
she handed him and filled it with water, stirring it around until the frozen
part had dissolved, staining the water dark pink. Claire set two glasses of ice on the counter
next to him, and he poured. They took
the drinks into the small living room and sat down on Claire’s slip-covered,
sagging couch.
“So how are
you feeling?” Nick asked her. “No funky
side effects from this morning?”
Claire
shook her head. “No, I feel fine. Tired, from not sleeping last night, but
that’s all.”
“You want
me to turn on the TV or anything?” Nick asked, gesturing to the black screen of
Claire’s television.
She made a
face. “Nah… I have to keep this patch on
for twenty-four hours, and my other eye’s still shit, remember? Watching TV isn’t much fun lately;
everything’s all blurry.”
“Aw… I’m
sorry,” Nick apologized with a frown, regretting the suggestion. He should have known better.
But Claire
just smiled. “It’s okay. By tomorrow, it should be a lot better. I can live without TV. Let’s just talk.” She turned so that she was facing him and
scooted back to prop herself against one of the arms of the couch. Pulling her legs up with her, she hugged her
knees to her chest and rested her chin upon them, looking at him expectantly.
Nick
swallowed and forced himself to smile.
Okay, talking was good… but so awkward, once they got past the
small talk bit, which they’d already done.
It wasn’t as easy to just talk to her now, not when he alternated
between imagining his arms around her, his lips on hers, and remembering the
note she’d left on his stairs. I
think we need to take a break…, she’d written. I’m not coming back…
Even now,
though he’d tried to accept it and move on, it still stung. And as much as he wanted to be around her, it
was painful. It hurt to sit with her on
the couch like this, so close, yet so far.
He couldn’t touch her… he couldn’t hold her… he couldn’t kiss her. It wouldn’t be right. He didn’t want it to be so, but they were
over.
Did she
hurt like this too? he wondered. Was
there a part of her that regretted leaving him?
Or was she really 100% comfortable going back to a solely platonic
relationship? How could she be?? Their relationship hadn’t been platonic for
years, not since she’d whispered that she thought she was falling in love with
him, the day before she went into isolation for her transplant. At the time, he’d been surprised, confused,
and guilty, because he didn’t share her feelings. But eventually, he fell for her too. And to this day, he’d never stopped loving
her, wanting to be with her.
But for
some reason, she had. And he still
couldn’t put his finger on exactly why or how.
Sure, she’d cited her reasons, but it just didn’t make sense to
him. She said she still loved him, but
she didn’t want to be with him. Yet she
didn’t mind him being here, just talking to her.
“You’re not
talking,” Claire said, her voice teasing, a playful smile etched across her
face. The expression faded when he did
not smile back. “You’re frowning. What’s wrong?”
He looked
away, staring down at his hands, which were resting in his lap. He twisted them together with uncertainty and
finally planted them firmly on the tops of thighs with a sigh. “What are we doing, Claire? I mean, you and me… this situation we got
going on here… can you honestly sit there and tell me you’re totally okay with
it?”
Claire gave
him an anguished look. “This is weird,
isn’t it?”
“Yeah,”
Nick answered flatly. “It is.”
“We were
okay earlier though… weren’t we? At
Leonardi’s… everything seemed almost like normal.”
“What’s
‘normal,’ Claire?” Nick came back at her quickly. “For almost a year, ‘normal’ for us meant
being together, in love.”
“But before
that, for longer than a year, we were just friends… and that was
normal. I wish we could be like that
again.”
Nick rolled
his eyes. “What is it with you and
always wanting things to go back to the way they were? Is that why you put up with that jackass
Jamie, cause you secretly wish you could be like you were with him
again? Things change, Claire; people
change; feelings change. I don’t want us
to go back to the way we used to be, because I still love you!”
The words
rang out louder than he’d expected, seeming to echo through the otherwise
silent apartment. For a few seconds,
Nick forgot to breathe.
No matter how I fight it, can’t deny it
Just can’t let you go
I still need you
I still care about you
Though everything’s been said and done
I still feel you
Like I’m right beside you
But still no word from you
***
Now look at me
Instead of movin’ on, I refuse to see
That I keep comin’ back
Yeah, I’m stuck in a moment
That wasn’t meant to last…
At Nick’s
confession, Claire looked away, not wanting him to see the indecision in her
eyes. He was so right… how could she
expect them to go back to being friends, after they’d been lovers? And the truth was, she did often want
things to go back to the way they were, to better, happier times. But who didn’t? Was it so wrong?
“… I still
love you too, Nick,” she replied softly, after a long pause. “I told you, I always will. But… but you’re right. Things do change. I changed my mind about what I wanted… and
I’m not ready to change it again. I said
I wanted a break, and I meant it. I’m
sorry.” She looked down at her hands;
she could feel them trembling ever so slightly.
She stared at them, not ready to look up and see his face.
“Well,
answer me this then,” Nick said stonily; his voice was calm, but she could hear
the frustration and hurt in it. “Do you
think…” He paused, and she glanced up to
see him lick his lips before trying again.
“… Is there a chance… that we’ll ever get back together? I mean, when you said we’re over… did you
mean forever? Or…?”
Now Claire
did raise her eye to meet his. “There’s
always a chance,” she spoke with conviction, leaning towards him slightly. “Anything can happen, Nick; I don’t
know. Sure there’s a chance, but… don’t
wait for me, okay? You should get back
out there and meet new people, date again.
I want you to be happy. And if
you’re meant to be happy with me, and me with you… then I think it will work
out. If not… it won’t. But either way, can’t we still be friends?”
As she gave
him a pleading look, she realized how like Jamie she sounded. He’d told her the same kind of things the
summer before they parted ways for college.
“I know you believe in fate,” he’d told her gently, as she sat
across from him, his face blurring before her tear-filled eyes. “Well, so do I. It’s time to test our fate. This doesn’t have to be the end. If we’re meant to be together, fate will
bring us back together, when the time is right.”
Ironically,
that was the day Claire, eighteen and heartbroken, stopped believing in fate.
Only Nick
had made her believe again… and even now, she still believed fate had brought
them together… as friends, if nothing more. He had come into her life at one of its lowest
points, the relapse of her leukemia, and helped her through. She, in turn, had helped him through the
lowest point in his life. The bond they
had was unique and special, one that she shared with no one else. Casey was the only other person she’d
befriended who could truly understand, firsthand, the kind of experiences and
feelings she’d had. But for all his
maturity, Casey was only a child. And
now he was gone. She didn’t want Nick to
go too… in any way. She still needed
him; she still cared about him, though everything had been said and
done.
“Nick?” she
asked again hesitantly, waiting for his response.
I’ve tried to fight it, can’t deny it
You don’t even know
That I still need you
I still care about you
Though everything’s been said and done
I still feel you
Like I’m right beside you
But still no word from you
***
Nick had just opened his mouth to
reply when there was a loud knock at the door.
He hesitated, startled, and closed his mouth. He and Claire exchanged glances, and for a
moment, neither of them moved. Then the
knocking sounded again, even louder this time, and Claire groaned.
“I better see who it is,” she mumbled,
sliding off the couch. “Just a minute.”
He watched her walk away, padding
through the kitchen to the door. The
refrigerator blocked his view as she reached to open the door, but he heard her
say, “Oh… hi!”
Curious, he leaned forward on the
couch, but he still could not see who was there. It was only as he started to rise that he
heard the sickeningly familiar male voice reply, “Hey you. How you doing?”
“Um…
fine! Fine… Yeah, the surgery went well,” Claire replied
rather shrilly; Nick could tell she was flustered. She took a step backwards, coming back into
his eye line, and glanced over her shoulder, catching his eye. He narrowed his eyes at her, balling his
hands into fists, just as Jamie set foot inside the apartment.
It was
unbelievable. Did this guy have some
kind of sixth sense for always detecting the worst moments during which to
interfere? It was as if he was always
there, calling or showing up to rock the boat whenever Nick and Claire were
already in stormy waters. Kick him
the fuck out, he urged Claire silently.
We were having a conversation, damn it.
“What are
you doing here at this time of day?” Claire asked Jamie. “I wasn’t expecting you for at least another
few hours; I thought you had to work.”
“Lunch
break,” Jamie replied with that sickening smirk of his, the kind that made Nick
want to mangle his face so bad he’d never be able to smile again… and if he
could, once they fused his jaw back together, he wouldn’t want to because of
the lack of teeth. “I’ve got till one,
so I thought I’d swing by and see how you were doing. I was hoping you’d be done by now. I picked us up some sandwiches, see,” he
said, holding up a white paper bag sporting the logo of a popular Italian
joint.
Nick
clenched his jaw just as much as his fists and flexed his punching arm. God, he couldn’t take this today… especially
now. He really couldn’t…
“Oh,
thanks, Jamie, that’s really sweet of you…” Claire said. Casting another look in Nick’s direction, she
added, “But… now’s not really a good time…”
For the
first time, Jamie turned his head to follow Claire’s gaze and noticed Nick
standing there in the living room. His
eyes widened momentarily, but he hid his surprise pretty well. “Oh,” he said. “I didn’t know you had company.” He gave Nick the visual once over,
scrutinizing him through his ice-blue eyes.
Nick stared back, his gaze just as cold.
“You didn’t tell me Nick was back in town.”
“Yeah… he
took me to my appointment this morning,” replied Claire.
Nick smiled
in satisfaction as Jamie’s eyes seemed to ice over even further. “Oh… I thought you said your mom was going to
take you.”
“She
was. Nick here called last night to let
me know he was in town and offered to take me.
This way, Mom didn’t have to drive all the way down.”
Jamie
frowned. “If you didn’t want your mom to
drive down, you could have asked me. I
could have asked for the day off.”
“Don’t be
silly, Jamie; you just started a new job.
You can’t be asking for days off already,” Claire said reasonably,
flashing him a pleasant smile. A few
feet away, Nick smiled too – and he made sure that Jamie saw it.
Jamie’s
frown twisted into a scowl. “Good point,
Claire,” he replied loudly. “I almost
forgot – Carter here doesn’t have to bother with petty matters like a boss
and a nine to five, Monday to Friday work week.” Jamie’s voice was dripping with sarcasm as he
went on, “He just gets to sing and dance for a living!” He wiggled his hands around in the air, doing
a flamboyant “jazz hands” motion, and stretched his mouth into a wide, cheesy
grin. “Must be nice.”
“Shut up,
Jamie,” Claire snapped and looked to Nick, who was already starting towards
Jamie, his jaw set. “Nick-“
But Nick
ignored her, sidling past her to get to Jamie.
Jamie held up his hands in cautious defense, but Nick thrust them aside
and grabbed the shorter man by the shirt collar, throwing him up against the
door so that it slammed shut. Nick
stumbled with the momentum, nearly falling into Jamie. Momentarily thrown off, he nevertheless
regained his balance quickly and returned his steely glare to Jamie’s
face. Jamie, though pinned to the door,
looked only minorly phased. He gazed
back at Nick smugly, as if to say, I dare you to hit me in front of Claire.
That just
made Nick want to hit him more.
But Claire
was tugging on his elbow with her one good hand now, urging him back. “Nick!
Nick!” she shouted, “What the hell are you doing? Let him go!”
“It must suck
to be so fucking jealous of me,” Nick spat, throwing Jamie’s words back into
his face. “I’ll tell you, it is
nice to make a career out of doing what I love.
I wish you could do the same, but I guess you can’t make a career out of
being a prick, can you? That’s
your problem though, buddy, not mine.
Just like your guilt over the way you’ve treated Claire – that’s your
demon to face; don’t try to fucking peg it on me. You abandoned her way before I even knew her;
you let her go. Now you need to
let go, man.”
“You should
talk!” hissed Jamie. “Claire left you. You need to let go… of her and of me!” On the last word, he gave Nick a forceful
shove, sending him backpedaling. He felt
the heel of his prosthesis catch the floor right as he stumbled, and he fell
helplessly backwards, sure that he was going to crack his head on Claire’s
kitchen counter on the way down.
He heard
her shriek just as he fell against something… soft?
Claire groaned beneath his weight and squeezed out between Nick and the counter
as soon as he’d regained his balance.
“Fuck,” she moaned painfully, running her hand over her cast.
Nick turned
to look at her, his eyes widening as he realized what had just happened. “Are you okay??” he demanded fearfully,
realizing she’d basically just caught him from falling into the counter, using
her own body as a cushion.
Jamie
rushed forward to her other side. “Did
he fall into your arm??”
“You mean
did you push me into her arm?” Nick corrected him with a venomous glare,
feeling his face heat up with a mix of anger and embarrassment. He was pissed as hell, just as much at
himself as at Jamie, for not being able to withstand the force of a simple
shove. It was the second time Jamie had
gotten the better of him, and he cursed the fact that a few years ago, he could
have kicked his ass, no doubt about it.
He was bigger, after all. The leg
issue, though, caused a slight disadvantage that he quite resented.
“Don’t
forget you shoved me against the door first, asswipe… it wasn’t a hard push
anyway; I was just trying to get away,” Jamie muttered, his voice growing lower
with each word. It sounded like he was
trying to convince himself of this more than Nick.
“Will you
two STOP IT?!” Claire screamed, causing both men to return their
attention to her. She was still cradling
her broken arm, but her face was livid, two bright splotches of red appearing
high on her cheeks.
“Listen,
I’m so sorry, Claire; are you okay?” Nick asked again, reaching out to her, but
she let go of her cast just long enough to smack his hand away.
“I’m fine,”
she snipped. “But if you two are going
to fight, get the fuck out of my kitchen; I don’t want to see it!”
Jamie
turned to Nick and held out his arms.
“You wanna take this to the parking lot, Backstreet?” he asked
invitingly, his voice snide and sarcastic.
“I don’t think you’ll get very far, but if you wanna try and take me,
I’ll play along.”
But to
Nick’s delight, before Jamie could do anything, Claire grabbed him by the shirt
with her good hand, spun him towards her, and slapped him across the face. “Get out of here, Jamie, and leave him
alone!”
“But-“
“No! Go! I
don’t wanna talk to you anymore today!” Claire shouted, not giving him a chance
to protest, and strode over to the door.
In a flash, she’d opened it and nudged Jamie out. “Goodbye,” she said none-too-kindly and
slammed the door.
“Nice,”
Nick complimented her with a gleeful grin.
But Claire
immediately rounded on him. “And
you! You started this! What the hell were you thinking?! You feel the need to have a fistfight in the
middle of my kitchen, like a grade school bully on the playground? Grow up, Nick!”
“Hey, I
didn’t say a damn thing to him; he’s the one who started dissing me the minute
he saw me,” Nick retorted angrily.
“Oh, like
you’ve never gotten dissed by a guy before for being a Backstreet Boy? Puh-lease.
If that affects you so much, you need to learn some self-control,” she
growled in annoyance. Turning on her
heel, she stalked back into the living rooms and went to the window, flipping
up one of the slats on her mini-blinds.
Nick watched in confusion, afraid to follow her. She was pissed. “He’s gone,” she said after a moment, and he
realized she was watching the parking lot.
“Good,”
replied Nick with a relieved smile.
“So-“
“So now you
can go too,” Claire interrupted sharply.
“I mean it, Nick; leave. I’ve had
enough of both of you today. I’m gonna
go lie down.”
Nick knew
not to push her and reluctantly nodded.
“Alright. Look, I’m sorry… for
almost having a fight in your apartment.
God, it felt good though; I’m not gonna deny it.”
Claire
rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I know you’ve
been wanting to take him down for months.
Next time you might as well pop him one in the jaw – just make sure I’m
not there when you do, because I will not take sides, Nick, is that
clear?” She stared at him, her
uncovered eye round and serious.
He gave a
short nod. “Yeah, I got it. I’m sorry,” he said again. “Listen, call if you need anything,
okay? I’ll… I guess I’ll see you
around.”
“See ya,”
Claire echoed hollowly, as Nick shambled dejectedly out the door.
***
Lyrics: “I Still” by the Backstreet
Boys