Clear and Bright: Chapter Ten: Rain

                                              

The dreams wasted no time in claiming me, gave me no rest. Jaimin is sleeping peacefully, his breathing soft, his arms still around me. I don't want to move, don't want to leave the safety and warmth of him, but I have to. The canvas is calling to me, waiting to take the images from my head. I slip as carefully as I can from him and out of bed. He stirs, but doesn't wake. I grab my favorite paint-stained sweatshirt from the closet and leave the room, closing the door quietly behind me. I brush my teeth and wash my face, trying to make as little noise as possible. I stop to the kitchen to make coffee, but I notice the clock. It's only 3:22. I don't want to wake him, so I opt for a bottle of mineral water and head up to my studio.

As soon as I open the door I feel the peace that's always waiting for me here. It's a massive space, open and inviting, even in the darkness. During the day it's bathed in light. I wish I could spend all of my days here, lost and free. It's the reason I chose this apartment. The moment I stepped into this space, I knew. I couldn't let anyone else have it. I'd always wanted a studio like this. A place I could hide, a place that would wrap its arms around me, and still let me breathe. Everything else I looked at was wrong, the space too small. I would suffocate, but not here. It takes up nearly the entirety of the upper level. I couldn't imagine what it had been used for by previous occupants, it doesn't seem to me that it could be anything else. It was meant to be this. My calm. My breath. My sanctuary.

I pull the sweatshirt on and realize I've forgotten a tie for my hair, a pencil will have to do. It doesn't matter anyway, I'll still be pulling paint from my hair. I laugh to myself and hear her... He'd  probably think it was adorable. 

I'd wondered where she'd gone off to, maybe she's been hiding in here, waiting for me to come. And she's probably right. The thought makes me smile.

I prepare my paints and pull a blank canvas from against the far wall. Yes, this is what I need. Not doctors or hospitals, just this. This will heal me. I won't let my dream haunt me. I won't give them that power. I'll give it life and let it die with them.

My hand begins to move the moment I pick up the brush. I let it guide me and I am taken away...

I hear a soft knock on the door before it opens. I turn to see Jaimin's concerned face looking at me from the doorway. He looks tired. I don't know how long I've been in here, but I know it's still early, the sun just starting to touch the sky.

I take a sharp intake of breath as he starts to step in and he steps back immediately.

"I'm sorry. This isn't something you can share, is it? I shouldn't have... I was worried when I woke and you weren't there. I just wanted to make sure you were alright. I'm sorry I didn't wake up... you could have woken me... I'm supposed to be taking care of you... "

He seems lost. He doesn't know what to say, doesn't know what to do. The strength he had yesterday seems to have left him in his sleep, replaced by worry and fear. I know he wants to take care of me, he just doesn't know how.

But what he doesn't understand is that he is. He's here. That's all I need.

"You are."

His expression is doubtful. I see his eyes look past me to the canvas behind me and turn achingly sad.

"Come here," I say quietly.

"Claire, you don't have to... "

"I want to. For you."

I know he's overwhelmed by my simple words. He knows I'm giving him something, one more piece of me I've never given anyone. He comes towards me slowly, cautiously, as if he thinks I'll change my mind.

It's not easy for me to share this, it may even be the hardest thing I've ever done, but I can for him. I won't change my mind. I'll do anything for this man.

When he reaches me, he brushes my cheek with his thumb and kisses the top of my head. The sweetness of his gesture melts me, the words come easily. "There's nothing I won't give you," I whisper, "Nothing."

He lifts me into his arms and holds me so tightly, it washes away all of the doubts and fears I felt yesterday. I know my mind was confused... I know I turned my unexplainable emotions onto what was in front of me, who was in front of me, but now I know why. I understand it. He's what I don't want to live without. He's what I could never bear to lose. I lost my parents a long time ago. They never belonged to me. I never belonged to them. They belonged to each other. I was on the outside. It's really not so different that they're gone.

I haven't seen my mother since I was four years old. My father came to me sometimes, but most of our relationship was based on brief, secretive calls or gifts that would show up at my door. He watched me sometimes, I'd seen him, but I knew he didn't want me to see, so I pretended not to.

No, it's not so different. It won't change me. I'll be just fine without them. I have everything I need right here, in this room and in these arms. He didn't leave me. My fear was irrational. He won't leave me. He loves me.

He sets me on my feet and smiles adoringly at me. He's definitely in love, or nuts, I know what I must look like. "I'm sure I'm a mess... I hope I didn't get paint on you."

"You are. You're the most beautiful mess I've ever seen."

"Maybe you're still asleep."

"No, sweetheart, I'm wide awake. I know what I see. You've never looked more beautiful."

I feel the blush spread over my face and he winks at me. Goodbye legs...

He chuckles softly and looks again to the painting that made his eyes sad. It silences him instantly. He steps closer to it and reaches back for me. I place my hand in his and wait.

"I've never seen a photograph of you as a child, but I think you must have captured yourself perfectly. How old were you?"

"Five, I think."

His voice is sad, "Why are you all alone?"

It's me, in the middle of a field full of flowers, an easel in front of me. It was my first, a gift from my grandfather. My first real canvas, my first real painting. My head is turned back, a smile on my face.

"I wasn't alone. My grandparents were there with me."

"Is that what you're smiling at?"

"Yes, they were standing a few feet behind me. Far enough to give me the space I felt comfortable with, but not so far that I couldn't see them. I must have turned around a hundred times that day... just to see if they were still there, but they were always there, always watching, always smiling."

"Why did you need space, Claire? Can you tell me? Can you help me understand? A five year old little girl needs love, not space. I don't want to pressure you, it's okay if you can't."

"I don't know exactly. My parents were never affectionate with me. They didn't really spend time with me. I spent most of my time in my room when I was alone with my mother. I tried not to bother her. I tried to be quiet. She didn't like me. It bothered her when I made noise. Sometimes I did on purpose so she would remember I was there. She forgot sometimes. She wanted to forget. Some days she forgot to feed me. Some days she left the house and left me alone, because she didn't remember I was there. The only times she talked to me was to tell me I was pretty and not to get dirty, because little girls who got dirty became ugly. She said the only reason my father liked me was because I was pretty and if I became ugly he wouldn't like me anymore and then I would be all alone. She laughed when she said this.

"And she told me I was difficult. She always said I was difficult. I didn't understand why, I tried so hard to be good. My father said I was supposed to tell her when I was hungry, to never let her forget, but she would get so mad when I told her that. He came home sometimes, when he could, to feed me. She didn't like it. She got mad when he did that. She said he babied me. She said it was his fault I was so difficult for her. She would start yelling and he would take me by the hand and carry my lunch to my room, he'd smile at me sadly and close the door. It didn't matter, I could still hear the things she said about me. She wanted me to hear.

"He would come in my room before he left, to say good bye and tell me to be a good girl. Most of the time I stayed there until he came back. Sometimes I went out, but she would just tell me to be quiet and stay where she couldn't see me. The Invisible game, she called it.

"I was opening drawers in the kitchen one day and she came to yell at me for making noise. I told her I was looking for paper. She said "If I give you paper, will you be quiet?" I promised and she gave me some. That's when I started to draw. I had lots of books full of pretty pictures... I wanted to make pretty pictures. I didn't feel sad when I drew pictures. I liked my pictures. I wanted to draw more. When I ran out, I asked her for more. After a few days, she figured out that when I had paper I was quiet. She never asked me what I did with it, she didn't care, but every morning when I woke up, there was paper on the table in my room. I wouldn't have to ask her anymore. It was one less time she would have to see or hear me.

"One day I drew a picture of them, just the two of them - no Claire - and gave it to her. She smiled at me. She told me invisible Claire was a good girl. She hung it on the refrigerator. She couldn't stop looking at it. She couldn't stop smiling at it. I did something good.

"I knew why she liked it. She showed it to my father when he came home. He took it down. After I went to bed, I heard them fighting about it. He said children were supposed to draw pictures of families. A normal child wouldn't draw a picture like that. A normal child wouldn't draw herself invisible. She said I didn't belong there and at least I was smart enough to know it. He didn't tell her she was wrong. He didn't say anything else.

"I didn't belong. I was on the outside. I didn't know how to be anything else. I didn't know how to be wanted. I didn't understand that I wasn't a bother to them. I knew that they took me from that place, but I didn't know how to be loved. They were patient. They filled the space slowly."

His face is consumed by pain. Tears are falling from his beautiful eyes. He tries to speak, but chokes on the words, "How could she ... I can't... How could he... It's... You were just... "

It's heartbreaking to see how much he hurts for me, for the little girl I once was. I reach up to wipe his tears, willing my own not to fall. "Don't be sad. You don't have to cry for me, or for her, it was a long time ago. She didn't cry. She was scared sometimes, and sometimes she was sad, but she didn't cry. And when she left that place, she had a beautiful life. She was wanted, and she was loved. She was never hungry and never sad. She got dirty and made noise, and they didn't leave her. They still wanted her. And she laughed. She learned how to laugh. She belonged. She didn't have to be invisible anymore.

"That was a happy day. I painted my first real painting that day. Don't feel sad when you look at it. She wasn't sad, and I promise you, she wasn't alone."

His expression changes suddenly. I don't understand it until I hear his words. "I've said so many things to you... "

"What?"

"Words. More stupid words."

Oh no. "Don't do that. You're not her. You didn't know. I never took it... "

"My God, how many times have I hurt you?"

I shake my head at him, I know where this is going. I won't let him. He didn't know. "No."

"Don't do that, Claire. Don't say it's okay. It's not okay. I've said things... " He stops. His eyes close for a moment, and when he opens them it takes my breath away. His voice is a whisper, "Yesterday... I pummeled you with words yesterday... her words... of course you wanted to run away... "

"Stop. I'm not going to let you do this. They're not her words. Words don't belong to anyone. I know you've never said anything to try to hurt me. I know you wouldn't do that. You didn't know. I was being a brat and you called me on it. I'm not perfect, Jaimin. I know that. I don't want you to pretend that I am. I'm not that little girl anymore. My mother can't hurt me, certainly not through you. I don't want you to hold back from me. Please don't do that. Please. You told me yesterday that you've said many things to me. You were right. You have. Many things. Many beautiful things. You make me feel adored. The only thing you could say to hurt me is good bye."

"I'll never say that to you."

"I hope not."

"I'm sorry, Claire. You may not need to hear it, but I need to say it. I'm so sorry."

"Okay. If that's what you need. I'll even let you make it up to me."

"I'll give you anything you want."

I laugh, because he knows he's left me an opening. "I know you don't really mean that, but that's okay. I can be good just this once. What I want is simple. Well, for you. I'm hungry."

His eyes are sad again, but he smiles at me. "You don't ask for much."

"I could."

"I don't doubt that. Come on, let's feed you."

Once in the kitchen, he asks "So, what would you like?"

"Anything," I answer, hopping up onto the island.

"There must be something you want?"

I smile wickedly at him and he shakes his head.

"I didn't say a word."

"You didn't have to. I think you should get down from there."

"Am I in the way here?"

"No."

"Then why?"

"You know why."

The scene of the crime.

"Okay," I murmur quietly, jumping down. "Can I have banana crepes?"

"Of course you can." He pauses briefly, gathering the ingredients and looking at me before he adds, "Can I ask you something?"

"Yes."

"The other painting?"

I'd painted two images this morning, memories that came to me in my dreams. I didn't think he'd paid attention to the first. It was a closed door. I stood with my tiny hand pressed up against it. It wasn't bright and happy like the other, it was dark and sad.

"It was the day I left my parents' house."

"Can you tell me about it?"

"If you want to know. You won't like that story."

"I'm sure I won't, but if you left that place to have a beautiful life, then it's important to me. I'd like to know, if it's not too much for you."

"I meant what I said... there's nothing I won't give you."

He smiles at me sweetly and I watch him work, stealing banana slices from the plate every time he turns to the stove.

"I think there's a hungry little monkey on the loose," he laughs, slicing another banana. I giggle and he winks at me. Mush.

He takes my hand and leads me to the table, setting my plate in front of me. He pulls the pencil from my makeshift knot, letting my hair fall around me, and kisses the top of my head. He goes back and pours two cups of coffee, fixing mine just the way I like it, and comes to sit next to me, pulling his chair close.

"Aren't you going to eat with me? We could have had something else... "

"That's what you wanted. You can always have what you want. I'm just not hungry, sweetheart."

It's the first time he hasn't eaten with me, with the exception of yesterday morning. I'd just assumed he'd already eaten. This time I think my shared memories have affected his appetite. It makes me wonder, "Is it bad that I am?"

"Not at all. I want you to eat."

I take a bite and smile at him. "Is there anything you don't do perfectly?"

"Talk to you."

"Jaimin, please don't say that. It's just not true. Can we move past this? What if I promise you to always tell you if you hurt my feelings? I believe I've already done that with you, haven't I?"

"A few times. I know I've hurt you more than that."

"Please listen to me. If you think I'm being difficult, you can tell me that. You're not her. If I'm bothering you or irritating you, I want you to tell me. I want to know. My mother was bothered by my mere existence... I know you don't feel that way, but it doesn't mean I won't ever test your patience. You can call me spoiled. You can call me a brat. You can tell me when I'm being self-centered. I can't promise you that I'll never be that, but I'd like to know when you feel neglected or hurt by it.

"You understand some things now. I'm not asking you to excuse my faults because of that understanding, I just hope you never doubt how important you are to me. If I get lost in that place, it doesn't mean I don't need you... it just means I need the escape I find there. And I want you to know something. I left your arms to go there this morning, but I took you with me. I wasn't alone. I panicked for a second when you stepped in, but there was no reason for that. I'd already let you in."

"You amaze me, Claire. You're not self-centered. I was wrong about that. I'll never say those words to you again. I promise you that. And there's something else. I'm sorry I told you to be quiet. I'll never, ever do that again."

"I wasn't hurt by that. It was a misunderstanding, and it was my fault. I shouldn't have put either of you in that position. I should have talked to you. I need you to understand something, Jaimin... I respect you. I respect you as a man - the man you've been to me, and I respect what you've worked for and built for yourself. I'm truly sorry if I have done or said anything to undermine or disrespect you there. That's unacceptable to me. I was mortified the night that woman went there. I understood why you had to go. She was wrong, no matter what she felt you did to her personally. One has nothing to do with the other. I didn't need to question you when you came back. You have the right to protect your business. You have the right to protect your reputation. You deserve to be respected there. You have every right to expect it. You have every right to demand it. Don't make me an exception to that. If I step over that line, I want you to put me in my place. You don't owe me any apology."

"I don't think any woman has ever had respect for me, except for my mother, perhaps. Hers ends at my business, and doesn't include the sign above the doors." He winks at me and continues, "She'd be almost as stunned as I am if she heard you now. I'm sure I haven't earned that from you, but I'll spend my life trying to be worthy of it."

"Where has my arrogant bastard run off to this morning?"

"I don't know, beautiful, he's probably at the gallery trying to put the pieces of his head back together."

We both laugh, and I get up to take my plate to the sink, kissing him on the cheek on my way. "Thank you for breakfast. It was delicious, as usual. Would you like some more coffee?"

"You're very welcome, I'm glad you liked it." He stands and grabs our coffee cups, following me. "Yes to coffee, but I'll get it, and yours, and I'll clean up. You relax and tell me the story."

"You cooked, let me clean it up." I turn on the water and reach for the sponge, but he reaches over me to turn it off and spins me to face him.

"What happened to as I see fit?"

I pout at him and he lifts me and sets me on the counter. "That's a very pretty lip, but I said no."

"It's going to be all your fault when I'm spoiled beyond repair."

"As long as I'm the only one you want to spoil you, I can live with that."

"My last stop. See? I remember the things you've said."

"I don't apologize for that one. I meant it."

"You make me smile."

"Then maybe I shouldn't make you sad. What would you like to do?"

"Sit on the couch with you. It's okay, it won't make me sad. I'm more worried about you."

"Don't be. Go get comfortable, I'll bring the coffee. Do you want anything else?"

"Just you."

"That's already yours."

We settle comfortably on the couch and I try to assemble the events of that day in my mind. I know this will break his heart, but he wants to know, so I'll share my memories with him.

I realize as I begin that the details are as clear as if it were yesterday...

"My father made me breakfast, like he always did. After he left for work, she sent me to my room. I had everything a little girl could want in that room. I think my father tried to make up for what I didn't have by buying me things. I had every toy, every pretty doll, every book...

"I played and drew and tried to keep quiet. At some point I fell asleep. When I woke up I was hungry and went to tell her, just like I was supposed to, but I couldn't open my door. I tried and tried, but it wouldn't open. I knew she had locked me in. She had been threatening to do it...

"But I knew I hadn't done anything bad, so I didn't understand. I went to my window where I could see the front of our yard and driveway. Her car wasn't where it always was. She left me alone again. My father knew she had done this and had hidden his phone number in my room, our secret. I was supposed to call him at work if she did it again.

"I wanted to call him, but I was locked in and the phone was in the kitchen. I had to stand on a chair to reach it. He came right home when I called him. He was mad at her. He yelled at her when she came back. That made her mad at me. I knew that was why she locked me in. She didn't want me to be able to call him this time.

"I stood at the window and waited. I stood there for a very long time. I saw a car pull in. I didn't recognize it. Then my grandmother got out and walked to the door. I could hear her knocking. I wanted to let her in. I liked her. She always smiled at me. She was always nice to me. She liked me. She didn't like my mother very much. That was okay with me. Sometimes she came with my grandfather and they took me to lunch at fancy restaurants. I made sure not to spill anything on my dress, because after lunch they took me to the museums to look at the paintings. I was fascinated by the paintings.

"I wanted her to come in. I didn't hear the knocking anymore. I watched her walk back to her car. She was going to leave. She opened the door and started to get in, but then she stopped. She looked right up at me and smiled. I put my hands on the window and somehow she knew.

"Her face made me sad. She wasn't smiling anymore. She ran back to the door, then I saw her run where I couldn't see her anymore. I heard glass break and then I heard her yelling my name. When she got to my door and couldn't open it, I heard her crying. She told me not to be scared and she was going to go use the phone and she would be right back.

"The kitchen was far away from my room, but I could hear her yelling to someone. Then she was back. She told me to come and sit by the door so she could talk to me. She told me stories. She told me a story about when she was a little girl. She was playing a hiding game and she got locked in a closet. I told her I wasn't playing a game. I told her that my mother locked me in so I couldn't tell Daddy she left again. I told her I had Daddy's phone number in a secret hiding place but I would get it out so she could call him. I told her he would come and open the door.

"I heard her crying again and then I heard my grandfather tell her to stop. He told me I was a very brave girl and not to be afraid because he was going to make a very loud noise. Then he told me to go lay on my bed and put the pillow on my ear so the loud noise wouldn't hurt. He broke the door open and came in and made a funny face at me. It made me smile. He picked me up and carried me to the kitchen where I saw my grandmother wiping tears off of her face. He shook his head at her and she smiled and took me from him.

"She always hugged me when she saw me, but this time was different. She didn't let go for a long time. I knew she was sad because my mother locked me in my room. I didn't want her to be sad anymore. I wasn't locked in anymore. She could smile now.

"My grandfather asked me if I was hurt. I said no. They looked at each other, then my grandmother set me down on top of the table. She started looking at me. She looked for a long time at my face. She looked at my arms and legs. She took off my socks and looked at my feet. She ran her hand over my shirt in the front and back. I didn't understand why. I said "I didn't get dirty, I promise. I know little girls who get dirty become ugly. I want to be pretty so Daddy will like me and not leave me alone". She put her hand over her mouth. My grandfather asked me if my mommy told me that and I nodded. He shook his head. I didn't understand. I said "I'm not lying" and he said he believed me. He said he was shaking his head at Mommy, not me. I told him I saw Daddy do that sometimes.

"I asked if we could have lunch at a fancy place and go see the pretty pictures. I told them I would put on a pretty dress. He looked at the clock on the wall and I heard my grandmother make a noise and turn around so I couldn't see her. He said we could go tomorrow, but today Grandmother would make me lunch. She turned around and I saw her wiping tears again. She asked me if I ate today. I told her Daddy made me breakfast. I told her Daddy made me breakfast every day, and sometimes lunch if Mommy forgot, but not today. I asked her if it was time for lunch yet. I told her I was hungry.

"She fixed me something to eat and they sat with me and asked me questions... Did Mommy forget lunch a lot? Did Mommy leave you alone a lot? Did Mommy lock you in your room a lot? Did Mommy yell a lot? What did Mommy say when she yelled? Did Mommy ever hurt you? Did Daddy? I answered all of their questions. I told the truth. I told them Daddy said to always tell the truth, even if Mommy told me to lie. I told them about the Invisible game. I told them everything I could think of. They didn't tell me to be quiet. They wanted me to talk. They wanted to know everything. They told me I was a good girl. They told me I was smart. They told me I was the bravest little girl in the whole world.

"They decided it was time to call my father. He rushed right home. He told me he was sorry. He told me it would never happen again. My grandmother said no, it wouldn't. They were angry at him. I didn't understand why, he wasn't the one who locked me in my room and left me. He was nice to me. I told him my door was broken. He said it was okay. I told him it was loud. My grandmother said it was too quiet in our house. He put his face in his hands. I told him I could still see him. I told him I could show him how to be invisible. My grandmother said I wasn't going to play that game anymore. She told him the games were over. I didn't understand that either because Daddy never played that game.

"She told me there was a place where little girls didn't have to be quiet and play invisible games. She said little girls were never hungry and never alone in this place. She said no one ever locked them in rooms. She said they could make noise and get dirty and they were still pretty and they were always loved. I asked her if there was paper in this place. She didn't understand. Daddy told her I liked to draw pictures. He looked sad. She said there would always be paper there. She asked me if I would like to go there. I asked her if my mother would be there. I told her she wouldn't like that place. She said no. I asked her if there were dolls there. She said all of my dolls could go with me and there would be new ones, too. I told her I would like this place. I knew Daddy wouldn't go there with me. I knew Daddy would stay with my mother, so I didn't ask him. I asked her if she would be there. She said yes, and Grandfather, too. I asked her if I would belong there. She made a face at Daddy and he put his head on the table. Then she picked me up and hugged me again and said yes, I would always belong there. I said I wanted to go. I told her Mommy said I didn't belong here.

"My mother came in then. She looked at everyone and then she looked at me. She told me I was a bad girl. She told me I was ugly. Then she laughed. My grandmother set me back in the chair and then went right up to her and slapped her face. My mother said we don't hit in this house. She said it was Daddy's rule, lucky for Claire. Daddy told her to be quiet. I never heard him say that before. She didn't like it. She started yelling. Grandmother told me to go in my room and pick my most favorite things and put them on my bed. She said she would come to help me in a minute, but first she had to talk to Mommy and Daddy. I went and there was lots of yelling. Even Grandfather was yelling. He was yelling at my mother. They were all yelling at her. She was in trouble. I didn't like the yelling. I wanted to close my door, but it was broken.

"The yelling stopped and Grandmother came into my room. I was trying to push my dollhouse by my bed. She asked me if that was one of my favorite things. I said yes, but it's too heavy and I can't put it on my bed. She smiled at me. She said Grandfather was strong and would pick it up. I believed her. Grandfather broke my door to let me out.

"She went to my closet and got my suitcases. They were a present from her and Grandfather. They said someday they would take me on a trip. I asked her if it was time for our trip. She said yes. She was packing clothes in the suitcases and I asked her if my dolls would fit too. I wanted them to come. She opened the chest at the foot of my bed and said the dolls could go in there. I said they would be scared. I said they couldn't breathe in there. She said the dolls were brave like me and they wouldn't be scared. I told her I was scared in there and I couldn't breathe. She asked me if I was playing a game in the chest when I was scared and couldn't breathe. I told her Mommy told me to get in and she closed the lid. She put her hand on her mouth again. Grandfather came in and said we weren't taking that chest. He said he would find something else to carry my dolls. He said they would be able to breathe. Daddy was in the door. He said I didn't tell him about that. I told him Mommy said if I tell him she would make me get in again. She said next time she wouldn't let me out. She said she would hide it and not even Daddy would find it. No one would ever let me out. I believed her. I didn't want to go back in there, so I didn't tell. Now I told. Please don't let Mommy put me in there."

I stop. I heard myself. I heard the voice that came out of me. It wasn't mine. It was hers. How long have I been telling the story through her little voice?

Jaimin is broken next to me. I knew it would hurt him. I take a deep breath, I have to finish. I have to get to the end. He has to see that I'm okay.

"My grandmother was crying, shaking her head. Grandfather said no, she would never do that. He would never let her. He picked me up and said he promised. He said it was time for me and Grandmother to go. He said he wanted to talk to Mommy and Daddy first, but then he would come and he would bring my things. I told him not to forget my dolls. He said he wouldn't forget and he promised they would be able to breathe. I said okay. I believed him. I told him about the house. I told him it was heavy. I told him Daddy could help him. He said Daddy was weak. He looked at him when he said it. Daddy didn't say anything. He told Grandmother to stop crying and be brave like Claire. He gave me to her and told her to take me home where I belonged. He said he would be there soon.

"I asked Grandmother to put me down. She did, and I went to get my father's phone number from its secret place. He walked over to me and took it from my hand and put it in his pocket. He told me I didn't need it anymore. I looked up at him. He didn't smile at me. My mother said I was ugly. I didn't know what I did to become ugly. I wasn't dirty. I told the truth like he told me to.

"I knew why he wasn't smiling. He didn't like me anymore. She was right, but he wasn't leaving me. I was leaving him. He didn't look sad. I would have been sad if he left me, but he wasn't sad. He knew she would be happy when I was gone. He wanted her to be happy.

"My grandmother took my hand and picked up one of my suitcases. Grandfather grabbed the other two and stood by the door. He was looking at my father. I told Daddy goodbye and he told me to be a good girl. That was all he said. No, he didn't like me anymore. She led me out of my room and I stopped in front of my parents' door. I said I wanted to say goodbye. I wanted to make Mommy smile. I wanted Daddy to know I made her smile. I wanted him to see. I knocked on the door, but she didn't open it. My grandfather knocked harder and said "Your daughter wants to say goodbye to you. Open this door." She laughed and then she said she didn't have a daughter. Grandfather told her he would break it down and she opened it. She looked at me and said "You can't even go away quietly. You want to say goodbye to me?" I nodded at her. "Then say it," she said. I said goodbye as quietly as I could. She didn't smile like I thought she would. She said "Don't come back," and slammed the door in my face.

"I put my hand on the door. I wanted to know what it felt like. It felt hard and cold. It felt like I thought my mother would feel if I touched her. I looked at my father and he didn't look sad or angry. He wasn't mad at Mommy anymore. He didn't care if she was mean to me anymore. My grandmother picked me up and ran with me out of the house. I didn't go back. I never saw my mother or that house again."

I reach up and wipe the tears from his face for the second time. "Please don't cry for me. It's all over, they're gone, and now I have you."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"Yes. You make me happy. You make me feel wanted and adored. You want to take care of me and protect me. And look at me... I'm covered in paint and you still think I'm beautiful."

"That's all true, Claire, but how can I take your pain away? I'm only an audience to your memories and they will hurt me for the rest of my life."

"You're breaking my heart."

He pulls me into his arms and his voice is shaky, "I don't want to do that, I'm sorry, but the knowledge of what that precious little girl had to endure has shattered mine."

"It doesn't hurt anymore. I know it wasn't my fault. I know I didn't do anything wrong. I stopped asking why a long time ago. I know it's sad. If I was hearing that story told by someone else, it would rip me open, but I can't feel sorry for myself. I wish they had loved her, but they didn't. I can't change that. I left that place, Jaimin. I was taken away from there by people who did love me. No child ever had a better life, I promise you that."

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart."

"I know." I smile at him and add "You know, if it makes you feel any better, after we pulled away, my grandfather went back in the house and beat the hell out of my father."

He raises a brow in appreciation. "I would have liked your grandfather."

"I thought you might like that. Of course, I didn't know about that until much later. My grandmother told me. I asked her one day if she ever spoke to my mother. I was curious. She said no, and she never would. She said my grandfather told my mother that night that she made her choice. She wanted a weak man who would choose her over his child. She got what she wanted. He told her that's all she would ever have. Then he showed her how weak he really was.

"They never spoke to my mother again. They couldn't forgive the things she had done. They said they didn't have a daughter. She didn't exist to them anymore. They chose me."

He smiles at me, but he's quiet. I know it will take time for the images to fade from his mind. I wish I hadn't put them there. I rest my head on his shoulder and relish the feel of his arms around me for as long as I can before I have to attend to details of burying my parents.

My moment of tranquility is cut short by a knock at the door. I start to climb from his lap, but he sets me on the couch and gets up to answer it. I hear Nadine's voice.

"Hello, Jaimin. I think Claire got a delivery, did she not know it was here?"

I see Jaimin's hand ball into a fist at his side and go to see what's upset him. As soon as I get to the door, I see it.

"It's lovely, don't you want to know who sent it?" Nadine asks innocently.

"Only one person would have sent this," I say, my voice barely audible.

Jaimin's voice is chilling, "Tell me it's not."

"It is."

Before us is the chest from my room in my parents' house.

"Don't you want to bring it in?" Nadine asks.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Jaimin yells at her.

I put my hand on his arm, "No... she doesn't know." He looks at me, surprise on his face, and I whisper, "Only you."

Nadine is confused. "What is it?"

"Just come in. That stays out." He looks at me sadly. "I'll get rid of it. You'll never see it again, I promise."

Nadine steps in and Jaimin begins to close the door behind her, but I put my hand on the door to stop him. "Wait. I want to know if there's anything inside."

"No, Claire."

"If it came today, then clearly she had something to say to me. I want to know. Then you can take it away."

"It won't be what you want it to be. The fact that she sent this is proof of that. Don't let her hurt you. Don't ask me to. Please, sweetheart."

"Your mother?" Nadine asks, "I don't know what this is, but I agree with Jaimin. Don't open it, honey."

"I don't want it to be anything... but I need to know. Can you both just support me? If she's intent on knocking me down, even on her way to Hell, then can you please just be here to help me back up?"

I look at both of them, my eyes pleading for understanding.

"Okay... " Jaimin whispers, kissing me on the forehead, "if that's what you need."

Nadine reaches her hand out to me hesitantly. I give her a small smile and take it. Jaimin pops the latch and looks at me. I nod and he opens the lid of the chest. Inside is the drawing I gave to my mother and a letter.

I reach down and pick up the drawing, "It was the only time she ever smiled at me."

Nadine's voice is a plea, "Claire... you told me about that picture... that she sent it to you is evil. Please don't read that letter. Jaimin, don't let her."

"So, you want me to control her now?"

"That's why I came, and to check on her... "

He puts his hand up to stop her. "She wants support. I don't want her to read it any more than you do, but if she thinks she needs this, then I have to let her have it."

He reaches down and picks up the letter, holding it out to me. "Are you sure?"

I nod and take it from him, "I have no expectations."

I open the letter and read my mother's parting words:

Claire,
     If you're reading this, then I am gone and my wish has been carried out. It won't matter if you tell your father now, he stopped caring a long time ago about you. Maybe he's gone, too. I hope he is. He can't live without me. You know that. He wanted you for a moment, but he chose me. He'll always choose me.
    I never wanted you. I wasn't going to have you. I wasn't going to tell him about you. I was so close. I was going to have you ripped out of me and thrown away. I was minutes from doing just that when he caught me. He drug me out of that place. He made me carry you inside of me. He made me have you. The feeling of you inside of me made me sick. 
   When you were born, the way he smiled at you made me hate you. I hated you more every day. I hated that everyone said you were beautiful. I hated that everyone said you were good. You weren't good. You were there to take what was mine. I wanted to hurt you. I wanted to see pain and fear in those big stupid eyes of yours that everyone said would steal souls. 
   I saw a picture of you one day. I caught your father looking at it. It was in the newspaper, something about some award you won for some stupid painting. There was a boy in the picture with you, looking at you like you walked on water. You stole that boy's soul. I heard about what that boy did to himself, that they found him in his studio full of paintings of you. That's what you do, you drain the life from people. You suck them in with your eyes and your pretty face and then you destroy them. That's what you did to him. That's what you tried to do to me. That's what you tried to do to your father. I couldn't let you. I didn't let you. 
   I ripped that paper from his hand and threw it in the fire. I stood there and watched you burn and I knew that's what I should have done. That's my one regret in life. You were in the chest. The lid was closed. The latch was locked. I had my chance. I should have burned it. You would have screamed. You would have cried. I wouldn't have been able to see your eyes, but there would have been pain in them. There was fear when I opened that lid. I wanted to see tears. You never gave me that. You were too selfish. I hope you cry now. I hope you remember. I want you to remember. You weren't good. The only good thing you ever did was draw that picture, but even that was selfish. You knew it would make me smile. How could I not smile at the thought of life without you? Selfish brat.
   I want you to know that I'm happy today. Your grandfather died today, and now you are truly alone. That's why I'm writing to you. I've waited for this day. You have no one. You'll cry for him, and no one will be there to wipe your tears. I hope you're alone now, reading this. I hope you're crying and alone. I hope there's no one there to comfort you. I hope there's no one there for you to drain the life out of. I hope you feel pain. I hope it burns you alive. I wish I had.




I'm not crying. I'm stunned by the depth of her hatred for me, but there aren't tears. My shock is all she gets. That's not the only thing she was wrong about. I'm not alone. I'm far from alone. I look at the two people that I know care about me and smile. They're not smiling. They haven't even seen her cruel words to me, but they knew it's all she would give me.

"You won't like it... but you can read it if you want to. You're both proof that she's wrong. I'm very grateful for that."

I hold it out and Jaimin takes it from me, his eyes filled with tenderness. I don't want to watch the pain that will build there when he reads her words. I touch his arm and then let my hand fall and start to back away. They both watch me and Nadine steps closer to him. I smile again and they bend their heads to read it together.

I turn now, and walk to the window. It's starting to rain. The early morning sun was shining a moment ago, but there's no trace of it now, only a rapidly darkening sky.

There's something peaceful to be found there in its depths. I hear the muffled sounds of tortured souls behind me. I wish they didn't hurt for me. I wish I could take it away. I watch the spattering of drops against the window, and I place my hands on the glass, willing myself to feel them. I want to feel them. It's falling harder now, an assault from an angry sky. It wasn't supposed to rain today. I think of my grandparents. I think they've sent this. No doubt my grandmother's tears are mixed in, my mother's hateful words to me breaking her beautiful heart. Yes, they've sent this. I'm sure of it. If I were burning, this would put out the flames.

I open the window and lean out. The air is cold, and the rain is hard, but it feels good on my face. I feel every drop as if it were one, each a different message, each a drop of strength. They're drenching me with love, not allowing the hate to touch me. This is what I wanted to feel, to know they're here with me.

I close my eyes and let it wash over me. I hear noise from behind me, the slam of the lid of the chest, the close of the door. They're finished reading her farewell to me. I don't open my eyes, I don't turn around. I can't look at their pained faces, not yet.

I feel him behind me before he touches me, then his arms wrap around me. I don't move. Now I have everything.

I know he's getting wet, and I know he doesn't care. Everything's getting wet. I feel the water puddling around my feet on the wood floor. I wiggle my toes and it makes a gentle splash. It makes me laugh.

The memory gives itself to me. I want to give it to him, I want it to ease his pain.

"I've always liked the rain, except once... we were supposed to have a picnic. It was a warm, sunny day. Everything was ready and we were just stepping outside when it started to rain.

"It came out of nowhere, just like today. I was mad. I said I didn't like the rain. It started pouring, as if to say ha ha, Claire. My grandfather looked at my pouting face and said he was going to go yell at the rain. He went outside and started yelling, shaking his fist at the sky. It made me smile. He was watching me in the doorway. He smiled at me and did it again. He started swinging at the drops that were soaking him. It only rained harder. He started kicking at the puddles forming quickly on the ground. I wanted to do that. It looked fun. I started to walk out, and my grandmother grabbed my hand. He shook his head at her and reached his hand out to me. She let go and I went to him. He smiled at me and took my hand in his and then he stomped in the puddle and splashed all over me.

"I was surprised. I looked at my grandmother and she yelled "Splash him back!". I looked at him and he was still smiling. I knew he wouldn't get mad. He never got mad at me. I stomped my little foot and when it splashed him, he made a face that made me laugh. It was the first time I ever laughed.

"The sound that came out of me surprised us all. He picked me up and hugged me and I saw my grandmother start crying. He said he didn't know what made bigger puddles, the rain or Grandmother's tears, and he jumped with me in his arms and splashed us both. I laughed again. I wasn't mad at the rain anymore. I forgot about our ruined picnic. We played in the rain for a long time. Afterwards, we got cleaned up and had a picnic on the floor. I always liked the rain after that day."

He kisses the top of my dripping wet head and whispers, "I'll always like it after today."

I pull lightly on his arms, and he loosens them just enough so that I can turn myself to face him. "I had good days, Jaimin. I promise you I had so many more good than bad. I know your heart breaks for that little girl, but she isn't sad or afraid anymore." I stomp my foot and the water splashes up at us, and I laugh. "She's all grown up and still playing in the rain, laughing and having fun."

He reaches over me and closes the window. His eyes are sad, but he smiles at me. "I'm glad you had good days, sweetheart, but my heart breaks for both of you. There's still some of that innocent little girl in you. You didn't deserve what she did to you, then or now. Don't listen to her. She is wrong, wrong about everything. You are good. You could never be anything else. You don't drain the life out of anything or anyone, you give everything new life. You make the world better. You make me a better man. I'll probably never be worthy of you, Claire, but I'll try. I promise you I'll try, and I'll do everything I can to make sure you're never sad or afraid again, and that you always laugh and have fun. And listen to me... you're not selfish. You're strong. That little girl was strong. You're the strongest person I've ever met. I'm in awe of you."

The things he says... he could never hurt me with words. "Did anyone ever tell you that you're incredibly sweet?"

"Definitely not. You do that to me. And by the way... as for you being all grown up... " he rings out my hair and laughs, "I'm not convinced of that, but you sure are adorable."

"You're the only person to ever say that to me."

"Good."

I smile at him and look down. "I made a mess."

"I just helped."

"I'm going to grab some things to clean this up and see where Nadine is hiding."

"I think she's in the kitchen."

When I walk into the kitchen, she's sitting at the table. When she looks up at me, I know she's been crying. It's not something I've seen very much, Nadine's heart doesn't break easily, but she has her moments. It's always words that get her. His fight for me yesterday brought tears to her eyes, but my mother's assault today seems to have broken her.

"Are you alright?"

She shakes her head at me, but doesn't speak. She's fighting back more tears. She looks past me and gives a small smile, and then I feel Jaimin's hands on the bottom of my sweatshirt.

"Arms up, you little drowned kitten."

I raise my arms and ask, "Isn't it supposed to be rat?"

He pulls the soaked sweatshirt over my head and replies, "Rats are ugly. Kittens are adorable, like you." He tosses the sweatshirt on the counter and pulls out a chair. "Sit."

I do as I'm told and he starts drying my hair with a towel he must have brought from the bathroom. "You make me feel adored," I say quietly.

He tilts my head back to look into my eyes, "You are."

When he lets go, I see Nadine watching us. "I know neither of you owe me the courtesy, but can I say something?"

I nod at her and she looks to Jaimin for a response.

"As long as you don't upset her, say anything you want."

"That's the last thing I want to do."

"Would you ladies like some coffee?"

"If Claire didn't make it," Nadine laughs.

I stick my tongue out at her and he tilts my head back again. "Not even coffee?"

"My coffee is fine... " I start to say. I hear Nadine make a choking sound and he smiles at me. "She's just mean. Can I have hot chocolate? There's a box next to the sugar."

"I'm sure your coffee is unique... " he says with a wink. Even upside down it turns me to mush, and he chuckles. "You can have hot chocolate, but it's not going to come from any box. Your box is about to cry."

"Welcome back, Mr. Arrogant," I say with a wiggle of my brows.

He drops the towel on my head and sighs, "I knew you missed him. I'll try not to be too jealous."

I giggle and throw the towel at him. Nadine smiles at me, then her face grows serious, and I gesture to her to go ahead.

She takes a deep breath before she starts talking. "I'm sorry, to both of you. That's why I came here this morning, and to check on you. I see that I didn't need to be worried. You're in good hands. I understand why you didn't answer any of my calls last night. I deserved that. I know it isn't about me, I don't mean to sound selfish... "  she cringes at the word and looks at me sadly, "I hate myself for the way I behaved yesterday. Claire... I had no right to judge you or the way you handled what happened. You don't owe either of them any tears. You don't owe them any emotion. I thought maybe your father... but maybe that's because I know something that you don't. I know he called you sometimes, and I know he sent you things. We both know that he watched you... he should have had the courage to come to you. You shouldn't have had to pretend not to see him.

"Maybe this isn't the right time, but I don't know when is, so I'm going to give you something." She reaches into the pocket of her jacket and pulls out an envelope, laying it on the table between us. "There's a key and an address. I think you'll be surprised at what you find there. I'll go with you if you want, or maybe you'd rather take Jaimin... but I just want you to know that your father did love you. I know he didn't show it, and waited much too long to tell you, and did it in the most selfish way, but he did. You don't have to care. You don't owe him that, but you have the right to know what he kept hidden from you. I played a part in that, and I pray you don't hate me for that. I hoped that someday he would try... I'm sorry if I was wrong."

Jaimin sets coffee in front of her and she smiles her thanks. He holds out sugar and cream but she shakes her head. He looks at the envelope on the table and leans down to whisper to me. "Are you okay?"

I nod and he turns back to what looks like a very complicated preparation of hot chocolate. Who am I kidding, the stuff in the box is complicated to me...

I smile at Nadine and she continues, "I love you, Claire. Please don't make me live my life without you. I promise you I know what you're worth. I know your phone rings. My phone rings, too. They all want you. I know you don't have to be loyal to me, and if you choose to leave, I won't stop you. I just want you to think. They won't care the way I do. They won't protect you the way I do. No one will. I'm not trying to manipulate you, I swear I'm not. I just want you to think about what's right for you. You know what you want, you know what you need. You know I'll always give you that. I know you don't need me, I just hope that you still want me in your life. I'll support whatever decision you make professionally, but please don't take away my friend. You're the most important person in my life. I know that makes you uncomfortable, but I'm no different than anyone else... to know you is to love you." She puts her hands up in a helpless gesture, and I roll my eyes at her.

"Don't be ridiculous, Nadine. I'm not leaving you, professionally, or otherwise. You made me angry. I know that my behavior yesterday was unusual, but I'm not mad about your concern for that. I know you care about me. You shouldn't have spoken to Jaimin behind my back. I don't care what your intentions were. Don't do it again. This is the last time I'm going to tell you that."

"Okay. I hear you. I'm sorry."

Jaimin sets my hot chocolate in front of me and stands against the counter with his coffee, watching me. I thank him and turn back to Nadine, "I'm really not the one you should be apologizing to."

"I know." She looks at Jaimin and asks, "Would you come and sit down? Please?"

He comes and sits next to me, but his tone to her is cool, "You feel how you feel, Nadine. Don't apologize for it, but be careful what you say to me."

I take a sip of my hot chocolate and murmur, "Poor box." Jaimin gives me a satisfied smirk and we turn our attention to Nadine.

"That's not how I feel. I am sorry. I had no right to say those things to you. I don't know what came over me. I don't believe that. You've been wonderful to her, I know that. I know you care about her. I don't believe you would ever hurt her if you could prevent it. I don't question your feelings for her, I won't say any more than that... I meant what I said to you earlier in the day.

"I don't question your motives, and I know you would never take advantage of her. I'm very sorry for all of that, and I'm sorry I attacked your character. I shouldn't have done that. It's not my business. Whatever you did before her is between you and her. I'm not an angel, I have no right to judge you, and I don't, but she's much sweeter than you and I. I know you don't need me to tell you that. I have my reasons for worrying, and they're not about you, but it's not my place to explain what that means. I won't make that mistake again. I'm sorry I put that on you. I hope someday you can understand that I mean what I'm saying, or give me the chance to prove it. I'd really like us to be friends.

"She is different with you. I shouldn't have called it strange. It's not strange at all. It's special. I know that, and maybe part of me is jealous. I've never felt threatened by her relationships before - and I swear I'm not trying to throw anyone in your face - but maybe I'm just afraid you'll take her away from me. I've never believed anyone had that power, until now. I'm sorry to both of you for that, I know it's childish, but I can't help it. I don't want to lose her. You know how special she is, maybe you can understand my irrational behavior just a little?"

He's looking at her thoughtfully, I think he's surprised. I know I am, I know that wasn't easy for her. She doesn't like to apologize. She rarely admits she's wrong about anything. She meant it, I don't doubt that, but I don't know if he will see that. He's been polite to her this morning. I know that was for me, but now I'm not sure how he'll respond to her direct words to him. I only wish that she wouldn't have opened a door with her apology. Maybe he'll forget...

"I'm fairly confident in my ability to read people. I believe you mean it. Your behavior was irrational last night, I now have an understanding of why. She was leaning on me, you wanted her to lean on you. She showed vulnerability that you're unaccustomed to seeing. She showed it to me instead of you, so you lashed out. If you want to go toe to toe with me, you just let me know, but don't hurt her with it again. I'll crush you. Think about that next time. Put her first. As long as you can remember to do that, and never question my motives again, we'll get along fine. I understand jealousy, Nadine, and as I recall, you warned me about my own just yesterday. Perhaps you should take your own advice about that. And as for me taking her away from you... she's not yours."

"Are you implying that she's yours?"

"I'm not implying anything. She is mine. I'll share her as much as she wants to be shared. See her about scheduling as it applies to you."

Oh, my arrogant bastard is definitely here...


"She can hear you, you know. I heard someone say that to her once. I never saw them again, if that's any indication of how much she doesn't like that."

He winks at me, because he knows. He turns back to Nadine, cocky as ever, "That's funny, she doesn't look upset. Perhaps I know better than you do what she likes?"

She takes one look at me and puts her hand to my forehead, like she's checking for a fever. "Claire? What the hell has he done to you?"

I shrug and smile at her, and she sighs. "Nevermind, I already know. At least you're not denying it anymore. I should probably get going. Is there anything you need?"

Jaimin stands suddenly, "Actually, Nadine, could you stay just a few more minutes? I want to take care of something, and I'd rather she wasn't alone."

"Sure."

"That's not necessary. I have a mess to clean up, and then I'd like to take a shower. Jaimin, you don't have to feel like a prisoner here. I know you'd probably like to at least check in at the restaurant. Do what you need to do, and Nadine needs to get to the gallery. I will be fine."

They both start to speak at once, and Jaimin gestures to Nadine to go first.

"Things are under control at the gallery, I'm in no rush."

"I don't need to check in at the restaurant, they'll call me if there's an emergency, and I'll tell them how to handle it. They don't expect me today. The only thing that matters is you, Claire. Unfortunately, I have to leave you for a few minutes to dispose of something. I'd like to do that while Nadine is still here."

"Please," Nadine whispers to him. When she looks at me I see the pain in her eyes. "I'm sorry, Claire, I don't want to upset you... I can't believe she put you in there... she's horrible... and what she said... it breaks my heart... "

"NADINE."

"Okay, Jaimin, but I need to say something. Do you know how your mother died, Claire?"

"He just said that it was a car accident."

"I know you're not a vindictive person, but I want you to know how.  She burned. The car flipped. She was trapped. It caught fire. There were witnesses, they stopped, and they called for help, but no one could get her out. She was afraid, and she screamed, and she cried. She was alone in that car, and she burned alive."

I expect Jaimin to yell at her, but he doesn't. He can't. He's not upset. On this they agree. I know what they're thinking. She got what she deserved. Her hateful wish was turned on her.

When I don't respond, she looks at him and says "Much sweeter."

I can see it in his eyes when he looks at me. He's afraid I'm upset. I could never be upset with him for that. I can understand it, if it helps ease his pain for me. "Jaimin, if you're going, there's something else I want you to take. Upstairs... "

He smiles at me, "I'll get it."

"Upstairs?" Nadine asks.

"Yes."

"In your studio?"

"Yes."

"And he'll get it?"

"Yes."

She gapes at me, and runs to the other room, just as he's coming down the stairs with the painting. "You've never even let me in there!" She's glaring at me, waiting for some kind of reply.

"I don't know what you want me to say."

"Tell me why."

"Why what?"

"Why did you let him?"

"That's between Jaimin and I. I'm not going to share that with you."

He sets the painting down by the door and shakes his head at her as he walks toward the bedroom.

"Show me, Claire. I want to see."

"I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"Don't do this, Nadine. I can't. You know that."

"Yes you can. You did it for him."

Why is she so insistent? I suddenly don't trust her. I start to move closer to the stairs. "I said no."

She steps up onto the first step. "What's wrong, Claire? Am I making you nervous?"

I hear the sudden panic in my voice, "Don't. I mean it."

"Don't what? This?" she taunts, taking another step.

I move towards her, but my legs feel heavy. "It isn't funny. Stop."

She takes two more steps up, and tears start to fill my eyes. I'm frozen in place now, I can't move. I can't stop her. Is she really so jealous that she would do this to me?

She takes another step up and I know that she is. A panicked cry escapes from me, and Jaimin comes running back into the room.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"I want what she gave you. She's being selfish. No one ever taught her how to share. I'm going to teach her how easy it is."

"Shut your damn mouth."

She takes another step up and it drops me to my knees.

"Don't be so dramatic, Claire. Does he talk to you like that too?"

He picks me up from the floor and sets me on the couch and begins to softly stroke my hair. "It's okay, sweetheart. Don't cry. I won't let her. I promise."

"Stop babying her. She's not a child. You're making her weak," Nadine hisses, stepping up another step.

I haven't taken my eyes off of her. The "No" that I try to scream comes out as a strangled cry. I can't catch my breath.

He's torn. He doesn't want to leave my side, but he can't stop her from here. "Nadine, come down those stairs."

"I'm not Claire, I don't take orders from you."

"No, you're not. You're nothing like her, and you never will be. Much sweeter... that's what you said, but you don't seem to care much about that now, or about her at all. You told her no one would protect her like you do... you're wrong, and you're a liar. You're nothing but a manipulative, jealous bitch. You fooled me for a minute, but I've got you figured out now. It's over. You don't know me. You underestimated me. Don't make the mistake of thinking I'm a nice guy. I'd never hurt her, but someone who would... someone who is... you...  well... come down the fucking stairs, Nadine, while you still have the chance. I won't tell you again."

She places one foot on the step above her and his hand stills. The second he breaks contact with me, her face changes. She believes him. She's afraid. She steps down slowly, watching him. "Okay," she says, putting her hand up in a gesture of surrender, "I hear you. I'm down. She gets her way, as usual."

"Now get out."

"You can't kick me out of her apartment, and everything is fine now. Go. I'll leave when you get back."

"You think I would leave her alone with you now? You're delusional. Get out."

She looks at me now as if nothing happened. She's not sorry for what she tried to do, what she tried to take from me. She's not sorry at all. He's right. It's over. "Too far" is the only thing I can say to her.

"You don't mean that. You're just upset. I'll go now... you should get some rest, you look tired. We'll talk later." She stops near the door and looks at the painting Jaimin brought down from my studio, "What are you doing with this?"

He answers her, "That doesn't concern you."

"If you're planning to destroy it, it does concern me. Her work is valuable, no matter what the subject. I won't let you. She won't have to see it, I can sell it without it ever being hung. The rain has stopped, I'll take it with me now."

He leaves me now and rips it from her hands. "Her pain isn't for sale. For the last time, GET OUT."

Defeated, she opens the door. He moves to block my view, so I don't see what's on the other side of it, and closes it behind her. He leans the painting against the door and turns and walks back to me. He sits and pulls me into his arms and I let go. I let the tears fall for what I've lost today, and for what I never wanted to see. I can't pretend anymore. She gave me no choice. Too far. Much too far. She wants too much from me. There's only one thing I can do. I have to make one more run. I knew it this morning. He's the one person I could never bear to lose, the one person I can give everything to. The only one.

I hear the sudden pounding of rain again, but I don't need to feel it. I send them a silent I love you, and bury myself in him and whisper the words I know he'll understand. "That was damage."