Claire
“Claire.”
My name fell from his lips with a gasp. The last person I was expecting to see today, and the last person I was ready to see today was Seth. I wasn’t ready. I don’t know if I ever would be, but I didn’t have a choice now. Here he was, standing in front of me looking all sorts of delicious in his pressed navy pants, white business shirt with the top couple of buttons undone flashing a glimpse of that chest I had memorised, and his sleeves rolled up reminding me of the way they felt wrapped around me.
Feeling the warmth radiating off him, I took a step back, needing to put some distance between us. Just the scent of his expensive cologne was doing things to me I wasn’t ready for. Until I explained why I’d been such a bitch and ghosted him, I didn’t understand more. Seth deserved the truth before we moved forward. Bumping straight into a chair, I gasped as Seth’s hand reached out and wrapped around my forearm. Pain raced through my arm and made my eyes water. He couldn’t see it, but my long sleeve shirt covered up the bruises that scarred my arm.
Yanking it out of his grip, I cradled my arm rubbing softly at the spot. Biting my lip, I hoped the thick layer of makeup I’d caked on before leaving home hid the rest. The last thing I needed right now was for Seth to start asking questions. Especially not while I was working. I’d been lucky. Somehow when I’d come to see Isla a few days ago to tell her what had happened and ask for some time, she hadn’t batted an eyelid. Told me to take as much time as I needed. Assured me that my job would be here if and when I was ready.
Well, I was back.
I didn’t know if I was ready, or if I’d ever be. But I was nothing if not stubborn. I needed this. I needed to be out from under the watchful eye of my brother and his mates. I knew they meant well and all they wanted to do was protect me, but they couldn’t see that in trying to keep me safe, they were smothering me. If I had any hope of getting my life back, getting back to normal, then I had to take life by the balls and get on with it. No one was going to hand it to me on a silver platter, so there was no point hiding out in my room.
It’d taken some convincing, but eventually Isaac agreed to let me work, but only if he could drop me off at the door and pick me up. I agreed quickly. It wasn’t like I had much choice. Since the prick who’d done this had taken my car, which I found out later from the cops was found burnt out a couple of suburbs away, I was relying on Isaac to take me where I needed to go. Not that I’d gone anywhere yet, but for right now, he had me over a barrel. Today was step one in getting my life back. Step two was, step two had to be, mastering public transport.
Seth eyed me warily as I rubbed my arm. I could see a million questions in his eyes, and I knew I owed him answers but now wasn’t the time. And it certainly wasn’t the place.
Without giving me a chance to say anything, his shoulders slumped, and he mumbled something about finding his family before shuffling away leaving me stunned.
I hated seeing him like this. Defeated. Deflated. It was like the cocky, confident guy I’d met was gone, and in his place was an empty shell. Surely it couldn’t be my fault. At least not entirely. Yeah, we’d fucked, and we’d been hanging out, but we weren’t anything serious. I mean, I’d hoped that’s where we were headed but everything had changed now. And seeing him like that, I realised just how little I actually knew him.
Ignoring the ache in my arm, I picked up the cloth I’d dropped and headed back inside to refill the salt and pepper shakers. The last thing I wanted to do was to get caught up in my head. I was better off focusing on keeping busy than trying to untangle my feelings for the sexy soccer star sitting barely thirty feet away.
Knowing Seth was so close yet so far was torture. I kept as far away from his table as I could, taking any opportunity to hide out the back. When Isla asked me to refill the napkin dispensers as the late afternoon crowd filed out and before the cocktail hour crowd arrived, I grabbed them all and hid in the storeroom.
“You doing okay?” she asked, stepping into the tiny room at the back of the kitchen.
“Geez! You scared me half to death!” I complained, rubbing at the spot on my chest that felt like it was going to explode.
“Sorry. I just wanted to check in on you. I know it can’t be easy.”
Needing to get it off my chest, I stuffed the handful of napkins I was holding into the dispenser before setting it back down on the shelf with the others. “Honestly, it’s not. But I’m getting there. I know I’m slow and I’m…”
“If you apologise one more time, Claire, I’m going to boot you in the butt myself. None of this is your fault. You know that. Don’t you?”
Her question caught me off guard. Being surrounded by boys since everything had gone to shit hadn’t been all bad, but at the end of the day, they were still boys. I had more chocolate, more trashy magazines, and had watched more chick flicks than I ever had in my life, but none of them had asked how I was doing. Really doing. Don’t get me wrong, they asked if my arm was sore or if I needed anything. They checked to see if I still had a headache or if I wanted an ice pack, but they never once asked if I was okay. I wasn’t sure if it was because they were afraid of the answer or afraid of the question. But I couldn’t hold it against them. I never would. They hadn’t signed on for this when they’d agreed to let me crash their bachelor pad.
“I…I…”
I wasn’t sure.
Was it my fault? It might have been.
I wasn’t paying attention when he’d ripped my door open. I’d moved too slowly when he’d forced me out of the car. I’d argued when he tried to pry my grandmother’s ring from my finger. Maybe if I’d just moved faster. Kept my mouth shut. Maybe none of this would’ve happened.
But I couldn’t keep living my life in shoulda, coulda, woulda. They were driving me insane. In the moments of quiet, when I was finally left alone my mind replayed everything about that moment over and over and over again. Considering all the things I could’ve done differently. All the things I should’ve done differently. The problem was, all those thoughts weren’t getting me anywhere. The only thing they were doing as they spun around my head was make me dizzy.
Taking my hands in hers, Isla nudged me towards the old milk crate and helped me sit down before squatting down in front of me. Blinking, I looked into her kind eyes and saw sadness there. Or maybe that was just the reflection from my own.
“Claire. You need to listen to what I’m about to say and really hear me. Can you do that?”
Not trusting my voice, I nodded.
Isla took a deep breath. “What happened to you was horrible. No one doubts that. But it wasn’t your fault. You were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Don’t you take the blame for what some punk arse kid who was probably drunk or high or both did to you. This is not on you. And you need to let it go or it’s going to eat you alive. It’s okay to be sad. It’s okay to be scared. Hell, if I were you, I’d be shitting bricks, but look at you. You’re up and moving and back to living life on your terms. Don’t let some arsehole take that from you. Because you know what?”
“Wh-what?”
“That’s when they win. When you give up. When you let them ruin you. When you let them take the sweet, innocent girl who came in here looking for a job, when you let them break her, that’s when they win.”
