I give her a knowing look, “no. I mean withyou. Tony said you were gonna be okay, which makes me think that thingsaren’tokay.”
She turns her head, hiding her face from me.
“Talk to me,” I beg, “you know I’m going to be here for you no matter what. You saved my life, Clarity. Let me help you.”
She doesn’t say anything, so I grab her hand. “Let me help you,” I repeat.
When she finally looks up at me, she has tearsin her eyes. “The anniversary of my suicide attempt is coming up. It’s next week.”
For the second time in what seems like days, I have a girl crying in my arms, holding her heart out for me to see all the beatings it’s taken.
I’m the only one in the house who knows about her attempt and about how bad it truly was when she was living with her parents. My heart aches for her, knowing all too well how this kind of anniversary can have a negative impact on a person.
“Claire,” I choke out.
She shakes her head, “I’m fine, really. I’m being a big baby about it.”
“Secret for a secret?” I ask, knowing that it might be the only way to get her to open up to me.
She laughs, “you’re cruel.”
“Talk to me,” I repeat.
All I want is for her to be okay and to know that I’m here for her. She’s been trying to be more open about her life before Livler, and how all of the abuse she went through has affected her.
I have to give her credit, she doesn’t flinch anymore when someone brings up the topic or mentions her father —not that it happens often— but she’s trying.
“I don’t know how to talk about this kind of stuff with anyone other than Chris or Tony. I’ve neverhadanyone else to talk to.”
She didn’t have friends,I remind myself.
“I just hate knowing how bad I let things get before I reached out for help, and even though I never told anyone about the abuse, I still got help for my depression and anxiety. I hate how much power my father had over me, andthat the only way I thought I could get out was by killing myself.”
The hand I’m still holding in mine shakes violently, but I don’t let go.
She smiles sadly at me, “I’m thankful Chris got to me in time though, otherwise I never would have met you all.”
I thought she’d been happier lately, more peaceful. Everything with her parents came out in the media, and even though the paparazzi have been more aggressive than usual, she doesn’t seem bothered by it… but then again, I’ve been wrapped up in Sasha. I haven’t been paying close attention to my friends at all, and I kind of want to kick myself for not noticing her drowning sooner.
“Have the press started to back off a bit?” I ask.
She shakes her head, “a little, but I think that’s only cause Chris bit one of their heads off when we went for dinner last week.”
I remember that headline. A nice, big picture of Chris screaming was plastered across multiple magazines. They called him crazy, but they seemed to miss the part where the guy tried to grab Claire’s arm as they were walking to the car.
Lucas went berserk when she told him that little detail, said he’d be willing to rot in prison the rest of his life if he could get his hands on the guy who tried to touch her.
We had to lock him in the bathroom until he calmed down.
“I still don’t completely understand how you stayed hidden for so long, or why the press cares about your family so much.”
Claire adjusts her position in the chair, “I don’t get it either, the whole caring about us part, but when you have a famous brother and a father who runs an investmentcompany with the biggest names in the game, I guess it just comes with the territory.”
My heart hurts for her, she doesn’t deserve a single thing that’s happened.
“I used to go to galas with my parents, Chris and I would be forced to show our faces out in public to sell the idea that we were a big, happy family… but my parents never wanted me in the pictures with them.” She doesn’t look sad as she speaks, but there’s a note of disappointment or exhaustion, like she’s tired of the life she’s lived.
I squeeze her hand, “you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
