Clear and Bright: Chapter Thirty Five: At All and All In

It all makes sense now. All of the perfectly timed visits, all of the 20 Questions games, all of the things he knew with or without them. The details... and all of the strange-for-him model behavior after his typical and tyrannical normal...

He's been watching my every move. And everyone else's every in my space. And my air. That suddenly doesn't feel like mine at all.

Because, even though I would have shared it with him, would share anything I have with him, he didn't give me a chance to. He took it from me without giving me any. Or any trust, or any respect.

I would have been willing to discuss it... this thing he did...

Would have been willing to consider it... to some degree...

Out of respect and consideration for his peace of mind. And maybe even a little of mine. It's not entirely a bad idea... from a business standpoint. And a security. And I wouldn't be upset if I thought that was why he did it.

But I know that it's not.

He didn't have this surveillance system installed to protect what's mine. He did it to protect–and watch every move of–what's his. Me.

There's not an inch of space in my gallery that he can't see, apart from the bathrooms, from the comfort of his own office. He doesn't have to stand in his doorway to see or watch anything. Or pass through mine. He can sit down in this very chair that I'm sitting in now and watch and see it all.

And maybe not even have to.

That noise I've heard on his phone... that little bell or ping or whatever it is...

I never hear it when we're at home. When I've locked my doors for the night, and am tucked safely and happily behind ours with him.

Our door that I think there will be a storm raging behind tonight...

If I can make myself walk through it.



                                                                            ~




"Is everything alright, Claire?"

"Yes, Michel, everything's fine." He's not Jaimin, so lying is easy. "But I didn't see Jaimin... he wasn't in his office. I sat and waited for a few minutes, but he's obviously busy doing something somewhere else... and I really should get back and do some things, too." Because Emilie is busy... something I shouldn't know without her calling to tell me... 

"But before I go... Could you do something for me? Could you not tell Jaimin that I was here? Or, in there, at least?"

"Not tell him?"

"Yes, not. Please."

"Uh... well... "

"I'll tell him, of course. But I would really like to be the one to, if you'd be willing to let me?"

"Alright... " he relents. "But Claire... are you sure that you are?"

No. "Yes, I'm sure. I just have a bit of a headache coming on." Again...

"Would you like me to get you something for that? I–"

"No, it's alright, thank you, Michel. I have something across the street. I'll be fine in no time."

"Well, if you're sure... "

"I am," I lie again. "Have a good night, Michel. Or afternoon... " Or whatever it is. I don't know anything right now.

"You too, Claire," he says, telling me something, though I'm halfway out the door when I hear it.

Because I need to get to my own...

That aren't really mine at all, because Jaimin has made them his, too.



                                                                           ~



I've been sitting in my bathroom for twenty minutes. Or maybe hiding would be a better description. Because that's exactly what I have to do if I want any privacy. In my own special space.

Or what I would have to do...

If I had any anymore.

Because a bathroom isn't a special space. Or a sanctuary. Or any part, no matter how grand or pretty, of a dream realized.

It's merely a place.

Where you do things that you need. Get rid of things that you don't. Wash them away...

Whether the kind of dirt or grime you can see...

Or the kind that you can't. Because it's invisible. Or supposed to be. Because it's a secret you aren't supposed to know.

One that was being kept from you. And hidden.

That no matter how hard or how many times you try to wash or scrub away...

You just can't.

Believe me...

I tried.



                                                                          ~



I finally left my bathroom. And, with skin red and nearly raw, and not at all invisible, made it as far as my office. A space Jaimin can see me in. And where I can see him.

My version of him. My vision. The one I willingly shared with him.

The one with the beautiful face–though his always is–wearing the beautiful expression of love for me.

Sweet, pure, vulnerable love. Clear in every detail. Unhidden. Because his love for me is not a secret he's ever tried to keep from me.

With his watchful eyes or any other part of him.

His watchful eyes...

I love Jaimin's eyes. Love that they are watchful. That they're always on me. And the way that they always are. Adoring. Attentive. And even obsessive...

But this...

The way they're on me now while mine are on the his I brought to life...

I don't love. Or like at all.

And I don't know what to do.

Or say to him.

That he'll hear.

I just don't know.

So I say nothing at all.



                                                                          ~



It's been a fairly quiet afternoon at the gallery. But not on our street. I think everyone in Paris has been across it.

Which means Jaimin has been busy. And I have not. And have had a lot of time to dwell. On what he did.

On the microscope he put me under.

My head is pounding again...

But it's not the only discomfort I feel. Not the only misery I'm fighting to endure. Trying–for him, and for us–to handle.

I feel like I can't breathe. Like I'm suffocating. Being smothered. By the one person whose closeness I crave. Always want. And find comfort in. And happiness.

Even now...

I want it. Want him to soothe me. Give me air. Give me back my breath.

But I can't tell him that. Or ask him for anything. Because he's the one who made me need it this time. And I won't reward him for that by telling him I need him.

I won't do it.

No matter how hard it is to not.



                                                                           ~






I haven't seen or talked to Jaimin for hours. Since before the chaos ensued. Across the street and in my head.

And I haven't responded to the text he sent me about 45 minutes ago; the one that simply said I miss you.

Because all I could think when I read it was How? You can see me.

Something I've been wondering about. If he has. If he's been watching me. If he saw me read his message and not reply. Or reread it a dozen times after and still not. And if he knows why. Has any idea at all.

Or cares.



                                                                          ~



"Are you sure you're okay? You're not yourself at all, you haven't been for most of the day, and I don't want to just leave you..."

"I'm sorry, Emilie. I just have a lot of things on my mind, I guess. And another blasted headache. I'll be fine, though. You go ahead. And say hello to Matthieu for me."

"I will when I see him, I promise."

"Isn't he picking you up?" I ask her, and then realize how ridiculous that is, since he always comes in to get her when he does. Almost every night. And always on time, which it isn't now, because it's past.

"No, he had something come up today..."

"He's alright, I hope?"

"Oh, yeah, he's fine... one of his friends found out his girlfriend has been cheating on him for the last two months, and he's moving out of their place, effective the minute he found out. And they dropped off my car to me earlier while you were at Jouissance, so that he could help him with the moving without having to worry about losing track of time and forgetting to pick me up or something."

I knew that already, I suppose...

The dropping her car off part. Or a set of keys, anyway. Because I saw him hand them to her. From Jaimin's office...

Where I shouldn't have been able to see anything as it happened here. "It's awful to discover that someone you trust has been deceiving you. And doing, and hiding, things behind your back..."

"Yeah, unfortunately I know firsthand what that feels like..."

Me too...

"Which is just one reason among many that I love Matthieu so much. He's one of the most honest and trustworthy people I've ever known."

"I'm glad he is, Emilie. You deserve someone wonderful."

"We're a couple of lucky girls, I'd say."

Her beaming smile that accompanies her words makes me want to cry. Because I wore one this morning, too. Before I saw something that took it away.

And now makes me suddenly want to get. "Would you mind terribly giving me a lift home, Emilie? Jaimin is still swamped over there, and I rode with him this morning, as usual... and I'm really not in the mood for the chaos of Jouissance on a Friday night... and don't want to ask him to abandon his staff in it to take me..."

"Of course I wouldn't mind, Claire. I'd be happy to drop you."

"Thank you. I'll just grab my purse, and then we can get out of here."

Which he'll see me do instead of what his last message told me to.

To come where he could see me face to face.

Something that I just can't bring myself to do right now.

Or take. "Okay, I'm all set."



                                                                            ~



I didn't plan to do it.

When I asked Emilie for a ride home, I really did intend to go there. And stay.

But now I stand in my grandparents' house, an easel in front of me, and another wounded bird on the canvas it holds. And a brush in my hand. And that brush-holding hand, and my other not, trembling.

What in the world have I done?

And how did I not realize I was doing it until I had?

Hours after I had.

I even left him a note...

Before I did anything...

In our notebook that I left open on our bed.

The one full of promises and things we never want to forget.

I wrote in it...

Wrote this...

This thing that I did...

By coming here instead of staying there...

Or going to him...

And didn't even tear out the page...

I left it in that 'We never want to forget this' place and...

WHAT THE FUCK HAVE I DONE?

And how can I undo it?

Tell him that I didn't mean it...

That it isn't what it looks like...

Or feels like...

Or sounds...

That the silence I gave him isn't.

Damn it!

What am I going to do?

Or say?

That could ever be enough to fix what I've done already?

That I didn't even give him the courtesy of hearing from me before I did it.

Or the chance to let me hear something. And see. Because he would have showed me...

Found a way to...

To make me see that my crazy brain was running away from me again.

He would have.

If I'd have let him.

Instead of just running to join it.

Running too far.

So much farther than too far.

Because if I ran a single inch away from him, it would be.

And I went so much farther than that. Just because he tried to keep me as close as he could. In his sight at all times. Under his watchful gaze...

That even now I feel like I am. I know it's crazy to say that... because of where I am... but I do. Feel like I can feel his eyes on me. His eyes that are tortured. I know they are. Unless...

Is it possible that he doesn't know?

That he hasn't been home yet?

Hasn't seen anything?

Or the nothing of me gone?

Maybe he's still at the restaurant... still too busy to know anything but that I didn't come to him for him to feed me. Or take me home.

It's possible...

Even though the clock on the wall tells me it's been hours...

My phone hasn't rang. At least I don't think it has. I suppose I might have been so lost in my painting that I didn't hear it...

But I don't think so. And because I don't, don't think he knows. And if that torture I think I can feel in his eyes that I can't see and that can't see me is real, then maybe it's just worry. Because he hasn't heard from me. Or seen me since I left our street.

Yeah, keep telling yourself that, Claire...

It is possible...

It's just not probable.

But if he knows...

Has seen and heard and felt...

Then why hasn't he– "Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!"



                                                                            ~



Breathe, Claire.

Just breathe.

It's only him.

The man who is exactly where you expected him to be. Wanted him to be. Wondered why he wasn't.

Where you are.

You just didn't expect him to be standing outside watching you be here through the window. In the dark. And the cold. And looking so...

Well, I don't know how to even describe how he looks. Name it or put words to it...

Because tortured doesn't even begin to...

Oh, Jaimin...

I'm so sorry...

So very... Open the door, you idiot! He can't hear you!

Of course he can't. And of course it's exactly what I need to do...

Open the door and let him in...

So that he can...

So, why am I still standing here staring at him through the glass? That he's still standing out there staring at me through? With that look in his eyes that I've never seen before? Or never seen exactly...

It's a little familiar...

It reminds me of the way he looked the day our engagement was announced. After he'd made me stay home. And then I didn't, because I spent the day out with Loring. A day he spent in and in my silence. Before I went back home and found what it had done to him...

Yeah...

He looks a little like that.

Except a lot worse.

And I think that lot is scaring me a little...

And the way he's still just standing there...

Staring at me...

Staring at me and waiting for–

Or to–

Well, I really don't know what.

And only do know that I can't stand it. To see him on the outside. Instead of in with me. No matter what he does when he comes...

Inside is where I want him. Need him.

And where I pray he still wants and needs to be.

So, I run to the door...

Away from him again so that I can...

Run to him...

Whichever him is waiting for me...

In the dark...

And cold...

And air...

"Jaimin!"

That are all silent. And stay.

Scaring me again. But in a different way.

And one that I have to change. Fix...

Any way that I can. Any way that's his...

Because I still am and will always want to be. "I was wrong to just leave like that. Without telling you, or giving you the chance to tell me not to. And to stand my ground...

"Like you deserved for me to do. No matter what you did.

"I was wrong, Jaimin. And I'm sorry. With all of my heart, I'm sorry."

And scared. So scared...

Because he's looking at me...

Right at...

Because the second I left his sight, he moved so that I would be back in it. And was waiting for me to be...

And making sure the place I was running to was a safe one. And a made-by-him secure.

But he's not doing any more than that. Not saying anything. Or letting me see anything different than the face in the glass that made me scream.

I didn't expect those first words he heard from me for most of this day to be enough...

But I hoped they would be something. A start, at least. A white flag instead of a red.

Or a black. Like the eyes that still watch me. Still stare at me. And into. Only.

"And I was wrong not to respond to your messages. And childish. And a complete brat. And I'm sorry for that, too. And for how often you have to put up with all of my spoiled little girl crap."

And still nothing.

And it's killing me.

Because I know that it's probably exactly the way my nothing was killing him.

"I love you, Jaimin... " Please don't keep– 

"I love you, too, Claire. Now go back in the house."

Thank you... 

What am I doing? He should hear that, too. "Thank you. Because you do. And because you're not too childish to tell me, no matter how furious with me you are."

"Go back in the house, Claire."

"Okay," I say, turning instantly around and heading back towards the door, not wanting to make things any worse by making him have to tell me a third time.

But he doesn't follow me. Doesn't move at all, other than his eyes that follow my steps.

So I stop. "What are you doing?"

"I'm doing what I've always done. I'm watching you."

"We need to talk about that... eventually. When you're not furious anymore. If I can figure out a way to make you not anymore."

"Go in the house, Claire."

Why does he keep saying that?

And only that?

And in a way that sounds like I'm the only one of us who will?

"I'm waiting for you."

"No you're not."

"Yes I am."

"No, you're not going to is what I meant."

"Okay, understood, but, again, yes I am."

"Please do as I say, Claire."

"I will, in there. Where it's warm, and–"

"I'm not coming inside, Claire."

"What? Why not?"

"Because you came here to get away from me."

"That's not true..."

"Don't lie, Claire. We have enough without that."

"I'm not lying, Jaimin. That's not why I came here. I just... I felt like I couldn't breathe... and I just wanted to be somewhere where I could... and I hoped it was here... where I always could..."

"Because you were never here with me."

"What? No... that's not why. Or even true. I've been here with you. We–"

"Dropped off some things. And were never here together for more than a few minutes."

"We're here together now," I try, because I don't like where this is going. Or already at... for him. Because I came here alone. "And I want us to be... with all of my heart I do, but if you don't, then at least come inside with me while I get my things so that we can go home. Together."

"I can't do that, Claire."

Can't? "Yes you can. Of course you can."

"Okay, yes, but I won't."

"Why not? Are you that furious with me that you don't even want to be in the same house with me?"

"No, Claire."

"Then why?"

"For the simple fact that you think I'm furious with you at all."

"I don't understand what you're saying."

"Just go inside, Claire, and I'll see you in the morning."

"You're leaving? And not letting me come with you?"

"HELL NO. To the first. Which makes the second completely unnecessary to address."

"So, you won't come inside, but you're not leaving."

"Correct."

But that doesn't make any sense...

Oh, he can't mean... "You're not staying out here all night."

"That's not for you to decide."

"I know I made a bad decision... one that made you angry... and one that hurt you...

"And I'm not asking you to forget that I did. Or to just forgive me... or let me off the hook...

"I'm just asking you to be where I can see you. See you too. And I don't think that's too much to ask you for. Or wrong. I think it's only fair."

"You screamed when you saw me."

Oh... "I screamed when I saw someone. And I stopped screaming when I saw that it was you."

"I'm truly sorry that I scared you. It certainly wasn't what I wanted to do. At all."

"I know that. And it's okay. And the least important thing right now."

"Well, I don't agree with that, but... it can wait. Go inside, Claire."

"Not without you."

"Yes, without me."

"No."

"Claire."

"I said I was sorry... and I know that's not enough, I promise you I do, but I did mean it. And do... I'm sorry, Jaimin. I was wrong. And stupid. And unfair.

"And I don't blame you for being angry. And–"

"And you're only solidifying my reasoning."

"How am I doing that?"

"Will you answer a question for me?" he asks instead of answering mine.

And answering his is easy. "Yes, anything."

"Honestly? No matter how much you don't want to?"

"I've never lied to you, Jaimin. No matter what I did today... that hasn't changed. And won't. So, please ask me what you want to know."

"After you saw that it was me... standing outside of that window watching you... were you still afraid?"

"You scared the shit out of me... anyone would have been–"

"You know that's not what I mean, Claire."

Yes, I know.

And don't want to answer how and what you did.

"I opened the door... I went to you... ran... "

"After a few minutes, yes."

"Doesn't that answer your question?"

"Yes, it does. Now go inside."

Shit.

"I'm not afraid to go in there with you, Jaimin. I'm only afraid of going in without you."

"I promise you don't have to be afraid of that."

"But I am."

"But not only of, Claire. And for that reason, I'm not coming in. And am asking you to have enough faith in me to not be afraid of my not."

"It's a clear night, Jaimin, don't make it cloudy, please."

"I'm not trying to."

"Then come with me. Have enough faith in me to do it."

"Don't make it about that, Claire. Because it's not. It's not at all."

"Then we interpret it differently. What it is. Because to me it absolutely is about that."

And to that he says nothing.

And so now here we are. At this impossible impasse. That will only be not if one of us gives in.

Or gives the other no choice but to.

By playing an unfair card. "And um... I know you didn't ask me this... but I have no doubts that you'd want to know... and am definitely selfish enough to tell you... and want my bratty way enough to...

"And have enough faith in you to let me have it... even though you're going to be mad as hell at me for it... and might let me have something else... which might scare me just a little... but not enough not to tell you... that uh...

"I haven't eaten anything since breakfast. The breakfast you made for me. Because you love me. So much...

"And far too much to ever let me be hungry. And stay if you know that I am... let alone starving... like I am now. Because I was stupid today. In every way that I could be."