“Then why did he show up at the restaurant?”
“Because he was already there with his partners from the firm. If you had walked in and caught me having dinner with him—alone—maybe you’d have a point. But that’s not what happened.”
Claire folds her arms and stares out the window, biting her lip. “I don’t believe you. I think you two have been talking.”
Sara slams her palm against the steering wheel. “Okay, you want to act like a bitch? Cool. I can play that game.” Her voice sharpens, cuts. “Here’s what you can believe. Believe it was good to see him after all this time. Believe that you dragged my ass out of work to follow you on this pathetic little heartbreak tour. And believe this—you’re the one who left. You’re the one who didn’t say a single word to him afterward. So don’t you dare sit over there and act like someone stole something from you.”
Claire stares straight ahead, lips pressed tight. But Sara isn’t finished.
“You’re not mad at me. You’re mad at yourself. Because he moved on. Because he went back to his life, his work, maybe even found someone else... and you thought he’d be waiting for you like some damn ghost.” She spits the words like venom, not out of cruelty—but because Claire needs to hear it. “You know what I think? I think if Jax had seen you again, it would’ve wrecked him. Carter told me what those months were like for him after the airport. You disappeared, Claire. You didn’t just break up with him, you vanished. And he didn’t deserve that then. He sure as hell doesn’t deserve it now.”
The silence that follows is thunderous. Only the hum of tires and the occasional thunk from a pothole cuts through the tension.
A few minutes pass. Then, in a voice stripped of all defense, Claire whispers, “I’m sorry, sis. You’re right.”
Sara doesn’t say anything, just stares ahead.
Claire sighs, voice breaking just a little. “I guess I’ve been looking for someone to blame… because blaming myself hurts too much.”
She pauses, letting the weight of truth settle.
“The truth is... I had an amazing guy. One who adored me. Who made me feel like I was the only woman on the planet. And when it came time to leap... I couldn’t do it. There were too many ‘what ifs,’ too many fears about leaving everything I knew. So I ran.”
And for the first time in that car, Claire lets the silence speak.
57
Built on Lies
AsClairewalksintothe house, she finds Travis sitting on the couch, elbows on his knees, staring at the floor like it’s holding all the answers. But when he looks up, the storm in his eyes says everything before he even opens his mouth.
“You were with him, weren’t you?”
Her heart sinks. It's not a question—it’s a sentence. A truth he’s already convicted her of.
Are my feelings for Jaxon that obvious? There’s no way Travis could understand why I went back. Not really. I didn’t see Jaxon. We didn’t talk. He looked right through me like I never even mattered. But how do you explain needing closure from someone who didn’t even know you came looking for it?
“No,” Claire says softly, “I wasn’t with him.”
Travis leans forward, his voice harder now. “Then what the hell were you doing back on the island?”
She swallows. “I just… I needed to make sure everything was okay. I guess I needed closure.”
“Closure?” he spits. “You guess? You drove six damn hours without even knowing if he was alive!”
“He was in Atlanta a few weeks ago,” she snaps back. “So yeah—I knew he was alive.”
Travis’s face shifts, eyebrows pulling tight. “And how the hell do you know he was in Atlanta?”
Claire sighs. “Sara ran into him. At the corporate event her company catered. It was for his promotion. And before you ask, no—I didn’t see him. I didn’t know he was there.”
Travis laughs, but there’s no humor in it. Just hurt. “Claire, what the fuck are you doing? You have me. We’re engaged. Why are you still chasing some summer fling from years ago?”
Claire lifts her chin, defiant but trembling. “Because it wasn’t just a fling. It changed me. That place changed me.”
“Then why’d you leave? Huh? If it was so perfect—why didn’t you just stay? Why didn’t you get on the fucking plane, Claire? Or at the very least, call?”
Her blood runs cold. Her voice goes quiet. “How do you know I didn’t fly back?”
