“Yeah,” I replied, taking a sip of beer.
I was on the porch, watching the sunset. It had kinda become mine and Claire’s thing in the last week, but she was home tonight. The nurse told her yesterday that it would be a matter of days before Charlotte passed, and Claire didn’t want to be away for even a second.
“Take it you don’t want my opinion ‘bout it then.”
“Sure don’t.”
Damn, it felt good to say that. Ever since Mount moved out, I felt more confident, more at ease. I trusted myself completely.It was like taking a full breath for the first time. And it didn’t hurt that Claire was in my corner to talk some sense into me when I had doubts. Despite everything she was going through, she encouraged me to believe in myself and trust my gut.
“I think it’s great, son,” he said, and I froze. “It’s what was meant to happen all along.” I had expected criticism like usual, not whatever that was. Approval? Was that what genuine, well-earned approval sounded like coming from Mount McLeod?
Movement in my peripheral vision caught my attention, but I ignored it. What I couldn’t ignore was the earth-shattering, ear-piercing scream that turned my blood to ice. I was certain the whole town had heard it. I looked towards the sound, my heart in my throat, and saw Claire fall to the ground outside her house, her body heaving with sobs as she folded into herself.
I stopped breathing. There was another wailing scream, this one somehow worse than the first. “Dad, I-fuck, I gotta go. It’s Charlotte,” I choked out and hung up.
I’d never run so fast in my life. The closer I got to Claire, the harder it was to look at her. Her hands were curled in the grass, her body rocking back and forth through the pain. She cried like something vital had been ripped out of her, like a piece of her heart had been yanked right out of her chest.
“Mama,” she wept, her voice breaking on the word with shuddering gasps. In that moment, she wasn’t my strong, resilient girlfriend who grabbed life by the horns; she was a broken little girl crying out for someone who would never come.
I’d never felt so useless in all my life.
I knelt in front of her, not knowing what to do. “Claire,” I rasped, my throat so tight it felt like it was being crushed.
She clung to me so tightly, her nails dug into my skin where she had grabbed my shirt. “My mom”—she sucked in a ragged breath—“my mom is dead.”
I watched, helpless and heartbroken, as her body shook with each sob. I stroked her beautiful face, tears of my own falling at the sight of her. She was absolutely distraught, wrecked beyond repair. A building was only as strong as its foundation, and Claire just lost the last piece of hers; she was crumbling into nothing more than ash, and I just had to sit and watch.
“S-She’s dead, Beau.” She buried her face in the crook of my neck, and I wrapped her in my arms, pulling her into my lap. Her body trembled against mine as I rocked her. “She’sdead.”
“I know. I’m so sorry, baby,” I whispered shakily. The words felt empty, hollow, pointless. I knew they weren’t enough, nothing would ever be enough. Nothing would bring Charlotte back or fix this hole that just tore its way into Claire’s heart and life.
“I’d do anything to take this hurt for you.” I clenched my teeth, looking up to the sky and forcing myself not to break down. I had to stay strong for her and take care of her. I promised Charlotte I would.
The words were nearly unintelligible as she said, “I don’t know what to do without her.”
“I’m here now. I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry about a single thing.” I stroked her hair and continued to rock her, while she continued to cut my heart open in ways I wasn’t prepared for. I knew this was coming, and yet nothing could’ve prepared me to see her so lost. My girl was unrecognizable.
By the time the coroner came, the sun had nearly vanished from the sky, and the temperature was dropping. I covered Claire’s face as they took Charlotte’s body away, hardly able to stomach the sight myself. I didn’t even know if she was awake, but her crying had stopped maybe thirty minutes ago, so I couldn’t be sure.
Emmett followed after the medics, a lost look in his eyes, the only sign that anything was off with him. “You should bring herinside,” he said, his voice flat. “Delilah and Gran are on their way.”
I carried Claire inside, finding Savannah on the couch, staring vacantly at the floor, her face red and blotchy. Her eyes slid over to us slowly, glassy with unshed tears yet somehow also dull. “Hey,” she rasped.
“I’m gonna take her upstairs,” I said, gesturing to Claire. Savannah nodded. Claire was so exhausted she didn’t even stir when I lay her in bed and brushed her hair behind her ear.
I pulled out my phone and sent a quick text to Anna and Colt to let them know, and decided to call Weston.
He answered on the fourth ring. Music blasted in the background, and I winced. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” His smile was evident in his voice, and I hated that I was about to wipe it right off his face.
My eyes drifted shut, my head falling. “Charlotte’s gone,” I whispered.
“Shit,” he hissed. There was some shuffling, and then the background noise disappeared. “How is she?”
I knew he wasn’t asking about Claire. “I’m not sure. Numb? I’ve been with Claire outside. She cried so hard she wore herself out and is sleepin’ now.”
There was only silence because what could you even say to that? There was nothing to be said. Nothing worthwhile anyway.
“You gotta come home,” I said, voice cracking. “I don’t know what happened with you two, but”—I looked down at Claire, at her swollen eyes and dry lips and pale complexion—“Savannah’s gonna need you, man.”
