She stared out at the water, and despite promising myself I’d be patient with her, that fucking frustrated me. It was more of her avoidance bullshit, trying to shut me out. I took a deep breath.
“I know things have been…hard. Since the attack. Since Holly, and Asha.”
Claire’s face didn’t show any change, but her hands trembled slightly in her lap.
“I’m alright,” she said, in a way that sounded rehearsed—like something she’d repeated to herself more than once.
“You’re not.”
She finally looked at me, her whole body rigid. Her expression barely changed. She looked vaguely lost, like she’d somehow taken a wrong turn and couldn’t figure out how to get back.
“Cut the bullshit,” I said sharply. “Right now. Save us both some time, andtalk to me, for fuck’s sake.”
I wasn’t angry with her. Not really. But I’d learned that when tragedy struck, Claire retreated into herself like a turtle into its shell. Sometimes, you had to poke at her to get her to come out again. Only then would she let you get close enough to help her.
“I have nothing to say,” Claire said, staring at the floor of the canoe. “Even if I did, what good would it do?”
“We’ll never know until you try,” I replied. “Look, princess, you don’t get to check out just because things have gotten hard.”
It was the wordprincess, said in that disparaging tone I used to use with her when we first met, that set her off. I hadn’t done that in a long time. Claire’s face fell, and I felt instantly guilty for causing her more pain, but I’d already tried everything else.
“Hard?” Claire shot back, full of hurt and outrage. She shot to her feet and just about capsized the canoe. I grabbed the sides to steady it, and luckily, it stayed up.
“Is that the word you’d use, John? To describe the way I’m being hunted by a group of fanatics, including my own mother, to be fed to their immortal leader? Or to talk about how my once-best friend notonly used me, but gave me away to the same people who want to chain me to an altar and cut my heart out?”
My plan had worked, and I stayed quiet. She needed this.
“Or maybe,” she continued, “the fact that I’ve had to work and fight so hard for the tiniest bit of acceptance in the Valley? That I’ve never been able to have even a single moment of weakness, because the sharks were constantly circling, waiting for me to make a mistake? That I’ve had to be so strong, all the time, for everyone, especially you?”
“I never asked you for that.” I kept my voice neutral.
“You didn’t have to,” Claire answered, her voice finally breaking. “How could I be anything less, knowing that it’d drive a wedge between you and the people you love? That it’d just make everything harder for you, and I’d be a burden on you all over again?”
“A burden?” I repeated, dumbstruck. “Baby, you’re everything to me. Seeing how much you’ve grown—how much you’ve accomplished, with your teaching and your work around Summerhurst—made me fall even harder for you. All I ever tell people these days is how proud I am of you.”
Claire’s eyes shone with tears.
“Youare the person I love,” I continued, more fiercely. “Before all others. You think I give a shit about the rest of them if it means you suffer? I’d gladly burn it all down for you. I’d leave everything behind if you needed me to.”
“But I don’t want you to do that. You deserve to have the people who love you around you.”
“So do you,” I said gently. “So please, just…let me take care of you the way we both need me to. Let me hold you.”
There was longing in her expression as she stared at me, but she still hesitated. Bit her lip and said, “I’m scared if I do, I’ll just break apart.”
“I’m not afraid of your pain.”
Her shoulders slumped, her face twisted with everything she’d been holding back. She carefully lowered herself on the bench next to me. Slowly, I opened my arms to her, and something suddenly snapped. She lay her head against my shoulder and gave in. Sobbed loudly, uncontrollably, in a way that made my chest ache. She sounded so heartbroken and defeated.
“Oh my God,” I muttered, wrapping my arms around her, cradling the back of her head in my hand.
“Whatever I’ve done here,” Claire sobbed, “she’s gone because I failed her. I should’ve seen it coming, tried to help her more.”
I didn’t know if she meant Holly or Asha or both. I sighed and just held her, let her cry.
“And even after everything I’ve learned and all I’ve done…I’m still so afraid. Of the Order. Of the future. I’m still so weak.”
“Hey,” I cut in. “You arenotweak. Being traumatized by all this shit isn’t weakness; it’s basic humanness.”
