Clear and Bright: Chapter Thirty: Thankful

Our living room is a very different scene than the one I left a half an hour ago.

To an outsider it probably had looked like a crime scene. And probably even more so to him...

But that's not what I saw.

And not what I see now.

Me, who's an insider.

And not alone.

The evidence of Jaimin's presence is all around me. And not.

There are no longer paintings of my face lying in chaos on the floor. Or anywhere that I can see.

They've been taken away again.

By him.

Hopefully never to return.

Never to be wanted again.

Or needed.

And never to be brought back by me.

Even though they're what first brought me here.

To him.

And though I'll always be grateful to them for that...

To their existence...

I can't share him with them now.

I won't.

With her.

And he won't make me anymore.

He understands.

Like I understand him.

And the things he does.

Like what he did.

Because of what I did.

And what he did after.

And what I see now.

Because he heard me.

And felt me.

His real.

I know it isn't over...

Mine...

Because he won't forgive himself that easily for what he did.

But he's trying for me.

For us.

He's brought our little haven back. Our nest in front of the fire. Where his little bird could never sit broken. Or lie.

Not in my favorite place.

That he brought me to all on his own.

That first day and then again and again and again.

And brings something else to now, as he comes out of the kitchen carrying a tray. And on it, a pot of oatmeal with two spoons resting inside, a bowl of strawberries, and a bottle of my favorite wine and two glasses.

For us.

The only ones here now.

I smile at him and run to sit down on the blankets, holding his sweats up as I do so they don't trip me.

He smiles at them, and then at me as I settle into my place in ours.

"I raided your bureau, I hope that's okay."

"Everything I have is yours, Claire," he says quietly, setting the tray between us and rolling the sleeves of his sweatshirt up over my hands before bringing each one to his lips. "I'm just grateful to still have something you want."

"I want it all," I say with as much conviction as I can, and squeeze his hand as he starts to let go of mine.

"I want it all not to break you," he says, effectively breaking my heart.

Which breaks even harder when I see what else is on the tray. He's been at it with the marshmallows again.

Marshmallow me is just as she was the first time, and again with a lemon rind halo atop her head, but marshmallow him...

He again has no arms, and again does have horns, but this time is on his knees before her.

"I'm still in one piece," I whisper softly, and then silently thank my stomach for distracting him with what it is. "One hungry piece," I add, just in case.

But I didn't need to, because me hungry is not something he could ever ignore, even to berate himself. "Didn't Loring take you to lunch today?"

"Well, he was going to, but I wasn't hungry when we first left... and then we went to the Cinema after he got much too quickly tired of shopping... and my questions... and then he got a call about a case he's been working on... "

His jaw twitches at 'call', and I know it's because I didn't answer any of his, but he doesn't say anything. About that.

"And did you enjoy the Cinema?"

"Yes, it was-" I don't finish, and open my mouth instead, because he's holding a spoonful of oatmeal in front of it.

"It was...?" he pushes, pouring wine into my glass now.

"Nice, I guess. Funny."

He hands me my glass with a "That's good" and I'm about to take a sip from it when he puts a strawberry to my lips before I can. I take a bite, trying to read his thoughts, but I don't have to try for long.

"I've never taken you to the Cinema... I never even asked you if it was something you liked to do... "

"That's okay. I-"

"Which it apparently is. Which I now only know because another man did take you."

I'm thankful for this distraction, too, the jealousy he can't help but feel any more than his regret, but I'm not going to let it go too far. Or take us.

"He's not another man, he's my friend. And yours. And please don't be jealous. Or whatever it is that you are. Because it wasn't at all how it would be if you took me. Which I would very much like you to do someday. And which I would enjoy far more. Well... other than the fact that you probably wouldn't let me eat popcorn with lots of salt and extra butter."

"I like popcorn with lots of salt and extra butter, too, Claire. And I'd get you as much of it as you wanted. But I am jealous, because today you were sharing yours with someone else - who is a man - while doing something you've never done with me."

"I didn't share mine," I say, instead of the thing I'd like to. Because my mouth has done enough damage for one day. Or one lifetime... "He knows I'm a selfish little brat, he bought me my own. And I will do it with you, that and anything else you want to do, anytime you want to. And I would share with you. Mine. Anything. Everything."

Both of our hands move to the tray. His to the spoon, and mine to 'us'. The spoon in his hovers over the oatmeal while he watches mine remove one of my arms and give it to him, so that we both have one. Because I would share with him. Everything I have.

He shakes his head, and I sigh at the spoon he puts again to my mouth, but open, and take the tiniest bite before grabbing it and putting it to his. "I said I wanted it all, Jaimin... but I promise to give no less than that back to you. To try to, anyway. I'm not as good at it as you, but I'm paying attention. Learning to be better, I hope. From you. For you."

"There were an awful lot of yous in there for someone who claims to be so selfish," he says, taking his bite and then the spoon from my hand and dropping it back into the pot.

"See what a good teacher you are?"

"I see something, but it's not that."

"What do you see?"

"The one person in my life who I've given too much to." He removes the arm I gave him and puts it back in place in marshmallow me. "Far too much."

I knew he wouldn't stay away from it for long... but he's wrong. About the too much. And definitely about the far.

"That's not true, Jaimin. Not as long as you can see me. And hear me. And feel me. And feed me... " I smile and take his next offered bite. Or maybe not offered so much as quietly demanded... "... which I still trust you enough to let you do. And will always. Because I know how much you love my mouth. That's yours. Because I gave it to you. Because you wanted it. And that I still give to you... because you still want it... and still love it... even though I gave you too much of it so many times.

"That's what it is to give someone all. You hide nothing. Hold nothing back. Keep nothing for yourself. Well... except that one part of you that you've been keeping from me... that you promised me I could have today... a gift... that I think maybe you forgot about... "

"I didn't forget, Claire, but I sure as hell didn't think you would still want it."

"Well, I do."

"Well, you shouldn't."

"What I shouldn't is have let a beautiful stranger take me to his apartment one wonderful and unforgettable cool fall day."

"That's true. You shouldn't have."

"And?"

"I should pulverize your pretty little ass for doing it."

"That would be hard to do with no arms. And would hardly be fair! Considering it was you! And that you put some kind of spell on me!"

"Which is why I haven't. Though the part about the spell isn't true at all. I did nothing of the sort."

"Did too."

"No, beautiful, I assure you, there was only one person under a spell that day, and it was me. From the moment I saw you across that street."

"You swept me off of that street." And off of my feet.

"Of course I did. I had to. You were in the middle of it and you weren't paying attention."

"Yes I was. I was paying attention to you. Because of your spell."

"I don't have any magical powers, Claire. You weren't under any spell."

 "Yes I was. I was yours from the moment your magical eyes fell on me. I never stood a chance against them. Or against you. And you know it."

"I didn't know it that day. And I don't want to know it now. That you feel tricked into being here."

"That's not what I meant, Jaimin. You know it isn't. I'm here because I want to be. And because you asked me that day if you could bring me. And I said yes. And because every time you wanted to bring me after I still wanted to say yes. And did."

"Do you still now, Claire? Want to say yes?"

"Yes."

"Even after what I did?"

"Yes. But much more for what you did after. And what you're doing now. Talking to me. And listening to me. And feeding me. In the place you know I love. The one in the other. That I'll always be glad I let you bring me that day. And after. When you asked me if you could keep me here."

"You said yes that day, too."

"My mouth gets it right sometimes. And you know... it could now, if you-"

"Not today, Claire. Today that would be too much."

"Okay."

"Do you understand why?"

"Yes. I understand. Your why."

"I'm sorry, Claire."

"I know you are."

"So sorry... "

"I know, Jaimin. I'm sorry, too. From the bottom of my heart, I wish I hadn't have hurt you. And scared you. And whatever other awful things I made you feel to take you to that place. Where you thought you'd lost me.

"I was wrong when I did it. And then you were. We both made a mistake today. Because neither of us are perfect. And no matter how much under a spell we both can sometimes fall... and stay... happy and oblivious... sometimes that spell breaks, and all we're left under is real. Real that is sometimes dark. And heavy. Like a storm that rages overhead...

"But we just have to remember... never forget... that we're stronger than it, as long as we stay close, and never let each other go. We just have to fight. Find shelter... together... and it will never be too much. Because we're more. As long as we stay. At least we are to me."

"That was a lot of wes, Claire."

"Yes. And a me at the end. Because I'll never be that unselfish."

"I hope not. Because I love the way you are."

I reach down for 'us' again, but he grabs my hand as soon as I remove my arm. "No, Claire. You're not paying attention again, but I am."

"Then do. And see. I'm trying to give you something. Because I want to share with you."

"Too much."

"It's not. And not up to you to decide."

"That's your right arm, Claire."

"So?"

"You don't paint with your left. And I won't let you give me your right. I want you, but not all. Not like that. I won't let you give it to me. Too much."

"Well, you gave me no choice. You have none. And I'll starve."

"I hear you."

"I'm being selfish, really. Too, anyway. Giving so I can be given."

"I'll never let you starve, Claire. You don't have to give me anything out of fear of that."

He puts both of his hands to my mouth this time, a spoonful of oatmeal in one, and a strawberry in the other. I take a bite of each, and then push everything aside, everything that separates us, and climb into his lap. Wrap myself around him, and my hands around the back of his head, my fingers stroking softly through his silky hair. "Please don't. And always do. Love the way I am. And never let it be too much. Never let me. Don't let me go too far. Or push you."

He pulls me against him. Tighter. Closer than I was. As close as he can. And holds me there. Securely. "I promise, Claire. It will always be a you at the end."

"A?"

"This. The real one. Mine."


                                                                          ~


I wake in our nest, just like I did the first morning after the first night that he made it for us. And just like then, I wake alone. He's not next to me. Or wrapped around me. Like he was all night. Sweetly. And vulnerably. Just needing to feel me. Just like then...

But what's not... what's different than that then morning... there's no heavenly scent coming from the next room to tell me where he is now. Or that he's even here with me. And I don't think he is. I don't feel him here, or anywhere near.

I'm alone.

It's just me - and marshmallow us, complete with four arms - and my crazy brain, that I wish would go back to sleep.

I'm not listening to you. So, don't start. We're fine. He's fine.

Because I really believe that he is. And even if he wasn't, he'd never just leave me like this.

Then where is he?

I don't know, but I'm not going to worry about it. And not going to let you get me into trouble.

You do that on your own.

Well, I'm not going to let me, either. I'm going to call him. And say good morning. And ask him where he is. Like a normal person would do.

But I don't have to, because when I put my hands down to push myself up from my nest-for-one, I touch paper. He left me a note.

Good morning, beautiful. In case I'm not back before you wake up, I just ran out to pick up a couple of things. I rushed home yesterday without them, planning to go back out with you...

Anyway, I won't be long. And DON'T TOUCH THE STOVE. I'll be back to feed you soon, I promise. 

I love you.   

 J-

Better than fine.

Which is what he'll find when he comes home.

I pick up the makings of our nest and quickly put everything away - except for 'us', but including my note, which I tuck into place in my top bureau drawer with the last one he left me - and then head to the bathroom.

I hear the door while I'm in the shower, and after a few minutes, feel a burst of air flow through the steam-filled room. And then over me as he slides the curtain open a few inches.

"Good morning, sweetheart. I'm sorry I wasn't back sooner. I had an unexpected call while I was out."

"Good morning. And that's okay... but even more so if that unexpected call caused you to get dirty?"

"It didn't, but don't worry, beautiful, I haven't forgotten about my notes, or what I promised. And as much as I would love to join you in there, I can't. We're not alone. I brought someone back with me."

"Someone?"

"Alaina's home. The call was from her. She was at the airport."

"Oh. Well, that's wonderful. I can't wait to finally meet her. But why don't you look happier?"

"You'll see. I'm going to go put everything away and start breakfast. Any special requests?"

"No, anything. I'm about finished, I'll be out soon."

He gives me a slow, lustful appraisal and closes the curtain with a sigh and then he's gone. And my mind starts whirling instantly with possibilities of what I'll see when I come out, because I know how much he adores his younger sister, and how anxiously he's been awaiting her homecoming. He should be beaming with joy, so why isn't he?

Oh God, is she pregnant? Is that what I'm going to see? A young, sweet-faced angel - as much of an angel as a Guillory can be - with a swollen belly?

I pray that it's not, and when I come into the kitchen a few minutes later, after quickly dressing and drying my hair, I see that I needn't have done so.

But that maybe she should start.

There's a deep midnight blue haired beauty leaning against the refrigerator, who bears a striking resemblance to the love of my life, which I expected to see, having seen many pictures of her, I just didn't expect to have to look quite so hard to see it.

Or past so much charcoal liner. And lipstick that even I don't know what color is.

Which, no matter what color it is, I know without Jaimin having to say a word that he hates. Fiercely.

"The bathroom's free. Now, go wash that shit off of your face."

I'm surprised he waited so long.

"Hello, Claire," she says, ignoring him, and rushes over to me with what I think is the intent kiss each of my cheeks. With that lipstick...

"DON'T YOU DARE," Jaimin growls, grabbing me before she can, and pulling me behind him.

"Hello, Alaina," I say, peeking around him with a smile. "This is a surprise, I thought Jaimin said you'd delayed your trip home for a few extra days?"

"I had, but then I pushed it up again, because when I came home yesterday from shopping with a friend, I found that worthless fuck I called a boyfriend - who I had delayed it for - pushing his dick into some whore in our apartment."

"ALAINA! Watch your goddamn mouth! And go wash it, and the rest of your face, before I do it for you!"

"Well, he is! And he was! And you wouldn't."

One look at his face tells her she's wrong about the last part. "Well, he was. And really is. And it hurt, so you should be nice to me instead of yell at me. And go kill him for hurting me."

His deep sigh tells me he hears her, and he reaches up to stroke her hair - though cringes as he does - and speaks softly to her now. "Go wash your face, please, or I really will do it for you. And then, not before, we'll talk about his demise."

"Okaaaaay. Tyrant. Which I find really annoying, by the way, where I'm concerned, but encourage fully as it can be applied to him. I want him to feel pain before he dies. A lot of it."

"Alaina."

"I'M. GOING."

And the family resemblance gets clearer...

"Tell me I don't want to kill her, Claire," he says, forcing his gaze from her intentionally-slow retreat to my face.

"You don't want to kill her," I say, shaking my head and sliding my arms around his waist. "You just want her sweet-faced like she was when she left here."

"And sweet-mouthed," he sighs, softly kissing mine. "And haired," he adds when he pulls away.

"It's a pretty shade of blue," I try, but give it up quickly when I'm met with a steaming cup of coffee and unamused eyes. "Though perhaps not atop your sister's pretty head. And thank you."

"You're welcome. I don't suppose you could paint her pretty head back to its original pretty color?"

"No, sorry."

"I heard that, Jaimin," Alaina snarks, already coming back into the kitchen, fresh-faced and stunning. "And you'd better get used to my hair, because I'm not changing it. But since you brought up 'painting' it...

"I get why you no longer need the stalker wall, since she's here in all of her insane-as-you flesh and bone glory, but why are there no paintings hanging in there? Where she used to be?"

Caressa had asked the same question once, and just like then, Jaimin is the one to answer. Without. "Eat," he tells her, setting three plates on the breakfast bar and reaching his hand out to me.

I take it and sit down with a smile, because he sits right down next to me, and between us.

But she's not deterred. Or unaware of the point of his gesture. "Stop trying to keep her away from me. My hair isn't contagious, and I won't bite her. Overprotective freak. And I'm just curious why an artist would live with bare walls. It's not-"

"Your concern. She'll fill them when she's ready to."

"Well, my face wasn't yours."

"WRONG."

"NOT wrong. And my hair isn't, either."

"Your hair is hideous."

"It is not!"

"LOWER YOUR VOICE. And it is. And as soon as we're finished eating, I'm taking you somewhere to make it not. Before I take you home."

"LOWER YOURS. And no, you're not."

"You have no say in the matter, so save your breath."

"It's MY hair."

"Alaina."

"JAIMIN."

I jump up to refill my coffee - and so he can't see me trying to hold my laughter in - but it was no use, because when I turn back around, as composed as I can manage, he's looking at me with a It's not funny glare.

"Can I get you anything while I'm up?" I ask sweetly, and am answered with only a tap to his cheek.

I kiss it and he pulls me back down onto my stool with a wink. Well, he's in full control of one of us...

And maybe that one - me - can help reign the other in by changing the subject. "So, Alaina... I'm really sorry about what happened, but does this mean you'll be staying in Paris after the holidays instead of going back to the states?"

"Yes, sweetheart, she will," Jaimin answers before she can.

"She was asking ME."

"The answer is the same regardless of which of us gives it."

"If I want to go back to New York, I will do that."

"You're not going back, Alaina. So, don't waste your time entertaining the idea. The decision is made, and it's final."

"What it is, Jaimin, is NOT yours to make."

"Try again, little sister."

"I'm not going back! But not because you say I'm not. Because I don't want to."

"Then what's the point of your tantrum?"

"I'M NOT THROWING A TANTRUM. And I swear mom said that Claire had made you sweet, but I don't see it. AT ALL."

"Is this the same mom who has delusions that her daughter is an angel?"

"The very one," she smirks.

"Well, she's wrong," he says, looking at me, "About a lot of things."

"But not all," I say, standing and picking up our plates. "She was right about the sweet part. Thank you for breakfast."

I kiss him softly on the cheek for the second time and walk to the sink. He's behind me instantly. "You're welcome. And I'll get this. And talk to her. Believe me, I haven't forgotten."

"I know you haven't. And as for the dishes, whatever you say. Now, I think I'll let you two catch up for a bit and go return some phone calls. Welcome home, Alaina."

I make it about five steps before I feel him behind me again, but continue to our bedroom without turning around.

I know exactly why he followed me and he takes my phone from my hand the instant I pick it up from the top of the bureau. "Phone calls from who?"

"The Bouchards, and Emilie, and Genevieve," I say, though I really don't need to because he's already scrolling through my missed calls.

He puts the phone back in my hand with an apologetic smile. "It's okay," I smile back, "I know you can't help it."

"I really can't."

"I know."

"Would you like to come with us? When you're done? We'll wait."

"No, I'll let you deal with your mother, if that's okay?"

"Sure... that is. But I wasn't kidding about taking her somewhere. Alaina."

"Ah, the hair. No, I knew you weren't."

"But I don't want to upset you. Or make you feel like I'm locking you in... or out... so, if you'd like to come?"

"You mean because you'll be in a salon full of women?"

"Yes."

"No... You were right yesterday... I don't need to see that. But thank you. For letting me choose not to."


                                                                        ~


"Hello, Michel. How are you?"

"I'm wonderful, now that I've seen the future Mrs. Guillory walk again through our humble doors. Congratulations, Claire, you beautiful, brave saint of a woman."

"Thank you. But humble?" I ask with a laugh and a quirked brow.

"Well..." he smiles, "something."

"Definitely something," I smile back, in full agreement this time.

It has been a little while since I've been here, and I'm admittedly newly awed by the anything but humble beauty around me.

And a little uncomfortable, because some of it sits at tables. A lot of tables.

And stares at me. If looks could kill...

"Well, you look pretty busy, so um... "

"Pay them no mind," he says with a scowl. "I assure you no one else is."

"Right. So, do you suppose I could get a taboo 'to go' order? Being that I am, as you said, the future Mrs. Guillory?"

"There's no one in the world I'd more enjoy breaking rules for."

"Thank you. I'm just across the street, so I'll come back in a bit for it."

I tell him what I want and am almost to the door when I hear the old familiar shattering of china come from the kitchen.

"He's here?" I ask, turning around.

"Yes, you didn't know that?"

"No, I thought he was... " My words trail off as he storms through the doorway.

He stops just outside of it and the look on his face sends a chill up my spine. I smile and give him a little wave, making the corners of his mouth turn up just a little before the cocky takes over. He beckons me with a finger and I bite my lip, but shake my head defiantly.

He shakes his in response with raised brows, silently asking if I'm sure, and I shake mine again. It's a yes and a no all at once, because I can't resist this playful, sexy game in front of this audience, whose full attention I know we have, no matter how much trouble it might get me into.

I swallow hard as he takes a few stalking steps towards me and then stops again, glancing around him with disinterest and then back to me, an arrogant smirk forming on his lips. "Come here. Sweetheart."

"I was just leaving, actually... "

"Were you? Without saying hello? Or good bye? Or first indulging in perfection?"

"Of course not. Hello. Sweetheart. And I ordered my perfection to be wrapped up... so I could indulge myself elsewhere... but it seems the creator of that requested indulgence - and all others I've ever dreamed of - has left his post, so... "

"He was lured away from his post. By his."

"May I request that he resist the lure and get back to it? His is hungry."

"You may... but you'll have to do it OVER HERE."

"Do you always have to finish on top?" I ask, surrendering and walking towards him.

"You know I don't," he answers with a wink and a sexy smile, making me blush.

"I really didn't mean-"

His mouth takes the words right from mine, and my legs from under me, as he pulls me into his arms and kisses me like he's waited years to instead of just hours. "I know. Just like I know you didn't really want me to resist the lure of you."

"You're right. I didn't. And don't. Ever," I whisper breathlessly.

"Good answer, beautiful."

"And I really didn't know you were here. Or come for any reason but that I wanted lunch. I asked nicely for my to go order, but I feel I should tell you that I was fully prepared to use my now-public promised-to-you status to get what I wanted from your staff, even in what I thought was your absence."

"I have no doubts that you were, but if you were hungry, you should have called me. Then you'd have known where I was, and indeed not absent, and you wouldn't have had to leave the apartment and go out into the cold."

"I thought you were with Alaina and I didn't want to bother you. And I was already out."

"Out where? And with who?"

"Just visiting my amazing birthday present. And no one. By myself."

"You were across the street?"

"Yes."

"Alone?"

"Yes. And hungry."

"Okay. I'll fix that... but will you tell me one more thing first?"

"Anything you want to know."

"What exactly were you doing over there?"

"Just thinking. And planning. There's a lot to do."

"You won't have to do it alone."

"I hope not."

"Never."

I smile and glance to the door. "I'm going to go back now if it's okay? To wait? It's too crowded in here. Call me when my order is ready?"

"Give me a kiss goodbye and I just might deliver it."

"Delivery? Wow. That's a pretty big exception you're willing to make for me."

"Yes it is."

"What if someone sees? Chaos could ensue."

"They'll all see. And it will... in me when you kiss me goodbye. If you ever do it."

I do instead of reply. Because kiss him is something my mouth can do right. And could never for long resist the lure of.

And then I walk away on shaky legs and out the door.

But just like he said a moment ago, not alone.

"You know, I was willing to eat from another chef''s plate, but now that I know you're here, I won't settle."

"I'm going to indulge you, Claire, with my plate... but not until after I know you're safely across the street. Just in case my lips have left you under some sort of blind-to-traffic spell."

I giggle at his smirk and curl into his side, my mind again going back to the day my life changed just a few feet away on this very street.

Then I roll my eyes once we're across it and at my newly owned door and he pulls a key from his pocket. "Of course you have a key."

"Does that bother you?" he asks, unlocking the door.

"No. You are the key to my dreams, it could never bother me that you kept one."

"Oh, Claire, the indulgences that now await your sweet and generous mouth... "

"Could be yours, too," I purr, and slowly lick my lips, reaching for him, but not quick enough to catch him in my grasp.

Not quick enough at all...

Because my newly owned door that he just led me through now stands closed between us, and he turns his key in the lock from the outside and blows my pouting mouth a kiss before running back across the street.

Stupid mouth!

If only it hadn't told him that I was hungry...


                                                                      ~


Just minutes later there's a knock on the locked door, startling me from my thoughts. It's too soon to be Jaimin with my indulgence - or any, unless he reconsidered my offer for one made of him - and I'm certain he would use his key, regardless of which it were, if it were him.

My heart quickens in my chest, because I can't see the door from where I stand, or who may stand on the other side of it, and no one knows that I'm here except for him.

I don't know what I'm afraid of exactly, or why I would be at all, on this busy street in the middle of the day, but I grab my phone from my bag before I walk slowly around the corner into view of the large glass door and its insistent knocker.

I break into a run, feeling completely foolish, as soon as I can see, because on the other side of the glass is a shivering-in-the-December-cold Michel and three other of Jaimin's coatless staff.

"I'm so sorry! What on earth has he made you do?"

I hold the door open and they rush in, carrying a table for two, and two chairs from Jouissance, which they quickly set up in the middle of the massive space, complete with a candle and a slim crystal vase containing a single red rose.

"He wasn't about to let you eat your lunch on the floor," Michel declares, pouring me a glass of wine with a flourish. "Or let his plate touch it, I imagine."

I smile at the truth of his last words, and at the memory of our simple dinner in our nest on the floor last night, proving his first ones wrong. "Certainly not, but I'm sorry that you all had to freeze for those reasons or any other."

"Nonsense," he says, "You have warmed us more deeply than you will ever know."

"Thank you," I say softly, touched to near tears by their heartfelt smiles and his words, that I have no question of the meaning or truth of this time.

"You are most welcome. And if I may... implored to love him forever."

"Not a second less than, I promise."

"Magnifique! Now, lock us out, please, and yourself in, you priceless creature, or he will have our heads."

I laugh and give him a kiss on the cheek, which takes him by surprise, and makes him blush ever so slightly. "I'd never let him, I adore you and your compliments far too much, but I shall turn the lock as soon as you're through, cross my heart."


                                                                       ~



I'm still smiling when Jaimin lets himself in a few minutes later, but then I'm not, because his expression is a stark contrast to the one I was wearing. "What's the matter?"

"SIT DOWN," he orders, ignoring my question, and pulling out a chair.

"Okay," I agree easily, and sit.

He slides my chair in much more gently than his demeanor should allow, and then I watch him as he arranges plates on the table.

I wait a few moments for him to tell me what's upset him, but when he remains silent, I ask again. "Jaimin, what's wrong?"

"You said you were hungry. Eat."

"I will, but right now I'm more worried about you. Will you please tell me what's wrong? Did something happen after you left here?"

"I could tell you... or you could tell me."

"Me?"

"Yes, you."

"Tell you what? I wouldn't be asking you if I knew."

"Do you get some sort of joy out of making me angry, Claire?"

"Of course not. What-"

"No?"

"No. Why are you angry with me? What did I do? I was here waiting-"

"Why did you kiss him?"

Kiss? "Kiss who? What on earth are you talking about?"

"You know damn well what I'm talking about! Now answer me!"

I jump in my chair at his sudden outburst of anger, baffled at the fact that it's directed at me. "I can't answer a question I don't understand."

"It's not a difficult question, Claire. WHY DID YOU KISS HIM?"

"I didn't kiss anyone. That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard you say, and I really don't understand why you-"

"You're lying to me."

"I'm not. Please-"

"PLEASE WHAT?"

"Please calm down. And tell me why you think that? How you could possibly? Because I would never-"

"No?"

"No. Of course not. Never."

"Yet you did."

"I did what? What, Jaimin? What do you think I did?"

"Think? THINK? I don't have to think! I saw it!"

"Saw... what?"

"You! Your lips! On his cheek! That unless you have an explanation for... that satisfies me... will be removed from his face and filleted!"

"What? I... oh... wait a minute... Michel?"

"YES, Michel! Or did you kiss someone else I don't know about?"

"I'm not even going to dignify that with a response."

"You'll answer what you're asked!"

"I'll answer nothing, until I'm asked a reasonable question. By a reasonable human being."

"I asked you a reasonable question. You didn't answer it. And then you lied to me. And the reasonable human being I can sometimes manage to be left."

"I didn't answer your question because I didn't understand it. And I did not lie to you. Nor would I. Ever. You know that. I know you do. So, please... come back."

"Do you understand now?"

"Yes. But-"

"Then answer the question."

"Jaimin... "

"NOW, Claire."

"You're really serious? You're really asking me-"

"DO I NOT LOOK SERIOUS?"

"You look kind of scary, actually. And I wish you would calm down... and remember who you're talking to... and how much I love you."

"If you love me-"

"If, Jaimin? If? Because of an innocent kiss on the cheek?"

"That you refuse to tell me what was for."

"I didn't-" I stop and take a deep breath. Arguing with him won't help anything. And no matter how absurd this is, I know the only way out of it is to give him what he wants.

And to try to do it sweetly, and calmly, even though I want to smack him. "It was a thank you. That's all. A simple, innocent gesture. And I shouldn't have to tell you that. Because you shouldn't have to ask me."

"You're right, Claire. I shouldn't."

Really, REALLY want to smack him... "My God, Jaimin, what else would it be? But a thank you?"

"A thank you for what? He brought you those things because I told him to."

"I know that. And thank you, that was very sweet of you, but-"

"But not sweet enough to warrant a kiss from you."

"I'd give you a lot more than a kiss if you didn't look like you wanted to kill me."

"Now  you're afraid?"

"No, just confused."

"What did he do to make you want to thank him with MY mouth?"

"He said something sweet. It touched my heart. And-" His more-murderous-than-ever eyes take the breath right out of me, and my words with it.

But I recover quickly, because I can't let them silence me. "AND BEFORE YOU ERUPT, it's because of you that he said it, and because of you that it meant something to me. Because I know that he respects you. So much... And I know that he cares about you. And that he is truly happy for your happiness, that I know you're not feeling at this moment, but that he believes I'm wholly responsible for, which makes me even happier, because I know how much of a pain in the ass I am to you, but maybe not so much that the man you trust with everything while you dote all of your time and attention on me even knows that I am when he sees you, because he just sees you happy, so much that he implored me to love you forever, which made me nearly cry with pride, and-"

"Claire."

"What?"

"Take a breath."

"You mean be quiet?"

"No, I mean I'm sorry. And I want you to breathe. And then eat your lunch that's getting cold because I'm an idiot."

"You're not an idiot."

"No?"

"No. A little crazy. And maybe even a little exhausting... or a lot... but definitely not an idiot."

"Just a little crazy?"

"Yes, just a little."

"That's a lie."

"Fine, it's a lie. You're a complete psychopath."

"That's better. I love you, Claire."

"I love you, too."

"Just a little?"

"Definitely not just a little. Not even close to a little."

"I'm sorry for the sudden storm. I really am... "

"No harm done. At least I don't think... you didn't hurt him, did you?"

"No. I was going to go back and do that."

"And Alaina? Where did you dispose of her?"

"I left her at the salon. They said it was going to take hours."

"So, you have a few minutes?"

"I have all of the time in the world for you."

"Can I ask you something?"

"Anything."

"You told her I'd fill them when I was ready... the walls... Why did you say that? Have you been waiting for me to do that?"

"Of course."

"I didn't know that."

"You're the brilliant artist, sweetheart, not me."

"Thank you, but... "

"But what?"

"Well, just because I am doesn't mean you have to be stuck looking at my visions all around you. We could-"

"I love your visions. And there's nothing else I'd rather have all around me than the beautiful way you see things. And bring them to life with your gifted fingers."

"Okay. But I don't know what you want. To look at everyday?"

"Yes you do."

"I'm NOT painting myself."

"You don't have to. I have the original masterpiece, and not even you could paint anything that could compare to that."

"The things you say, Mr. Guillory... Give me your cheek!"

"It's yours, you adorable woman. God help you... it's all yours... "

I smother his face with kisses until laughter flows sweetly through his lips.

And then I pull them to mine, fiercely, just in case he couldn't hear the words I didn't say...

And because I'm hoping he wanted to again, even if he did, loud and clear...

THANK YOU...