Luke arched a brow. The young electrician was playing watchdog for Claire. He wondered if she’d told him to or if he’d taken it upon himself. Oh, who the fuck was he kidding? It didn’t matter why Mike was doing it; his instincts were right. It seemed like all the men in Claire’s life were looking out for her. All of them but him. Meeting genuine concern with arrogance just made him a prick and wouldn’t get him any closer to what he wanted. Claire back in his arms. Back in his life.
“Call me Luke, please,” he said, deliberately softening his stance to avoid any perception of antler rubbing. “I need to see Ms. English, Mike. Is she here?”
The electrician climbed down from the ladder and led Luke through the dining room to a room at the back of the house. The house looked amazing. He was blown away by how much she’d gotten accomplished in such a short time. It looked like it was almost ready to go on the market and with the way it looked he didn’t imagine she’d have any trouble getting multiple offers for it.
Mike knocked on a closed door and Luke heard Claire’s muffled voice say “Come in.”
His heart thudded in his ears as he followed Mike into the room where Claire was applying a final coat of shellac to the intricately carved trim work. Her eyes flashed green when she saw him. Removing her mask, she set down her brush and turned to face him.
“Could you give us a minute, Mike?” Luke asked, but the electrician looked to Claire before he moved.
“It’s okay,” she said and Mike nodded and left the room.
Claire took a step toward him and his heart leapt into his throat thinking she was reaching out to him. Instead she pulled a twenty dollar bill from her jeans, tucking it in his breast pocket when he wouldn’t take it from her.
“Claire,” he said, the ice around his heart cracking into a million pieces and letting in all the pain. “Please.” He took a step toward her.
“No.” She held her hand up in front of her and he froze where he stood. “I need my laptop, bag and any of the other things I left at your place. It shouldn’t be much,” she said with a rueful smile. “Drop them off with Sparks or send Colin over with them. Whatever’s easier. But you, I don’t ever want to see you again. Now get out of my house, and don’t come back.”
His head dropped in defeat. She was right about everything and he deserved the way she was treating him.
“I’m sorry,” he said, forcing himself to look up and meet her gaze. To give her this one last truth between them. “I’m so very sorry.”
“I know you are,” she said, softening enough to let him see the pain in her eyes. “But it doesn’t matter anymore.”
Almost everything he’d ever done had been in an attempt not to end up like his father and instead, that’s who he’d become. He destroyed things as completely as his old man had, hurting Claire because her couldn’t be man enough to admit his feelings. Just because he hadn’t used his fist didn’t mean he hadn’t hurt her on purpose. She’d survive. He knew she would. She was strong and resilient, and he’d ruined everything.
“Please, Luke,” she said, her voice cracking. “Please, if you feel anything for me at all, please leave and let me pick up the pieces of what I have left. Give me that much.”
Seeing her so close to breaking gutted him. God, he hadn’t meant to hurt her – at least the human part of him hadn’t, but he could stop hurting her now. He hadn’t listened to her pleas the night before, but he couldn’t ignore them now. Searching her face, he burned her image into his brain to take out later as a reminder of all he’d lost, and then he nodded and walked away.
