I tossed my phone across the room, knocking a photo frame off the wall. Hurt, I stood up and took the photos out of the envelope. I walked around downstairs and tossed them all over the floor, leaving a trail from the dining room to the living room and into the kitchen.
The last photo in my hands was one of Amanda straddling his lap in his car last week—in the parking lot of his law firm.
I wanted to rip it apart and force the pieces down his throat, but I heard the knob of the garage door twisting, heard him saying, “Where’d everybody go? I’m back!”
I leaned against the table and tried to calm my shaking hands.
“Ashley? Caroline? Claire?” His steps were getting closer and closer. “Did a tornado hit the inside of our house while I was gone?” He finally stepped into the kitchen.
“What’s going on, Claire?” He set the pizzas down on the counter. “What are all these pictures and why are they all over the place?”
I didn’t answer. I just stared at him as he bent down to pick one of them up, as his face immediately went white.
He looked up at me in utter horror, devastation. “Claire, I’m so sorry...Can we...Can we talk about this?”
I cringed at the memory and splashed more water onto my face.
The mere thought of Ryan still lit a bitter flame within me, but seeing him? In person? That was a damn wildfire, and I wasn’t sure how long it would take to put out.
I couldn’t believe his audacity—to actually show up and attempt to have a regular conversation with me, to act as if I would give him the time of day.
What the f**k does he want?
There was a knock at the door, but I didn’t answer it. I couldn’t. My body was shaking and my thoughts were consumed with rage and anger.
Why would he even show up here? He knows I HATE him...
“Claire?” Jonathan’s voice was on the other side of the door.
“Yes?” I snapped out of my trance and unlocked it.
“Why are you in here? And why is your face wet?” He grabbed a towel off the rack and softly pressed it against my cheeks. “Are you hot?”
“No...I’m...” I hesitated.
“We can reschedule the appointment.” He wrapped his arm around my waist and walked me back out front. “I’ll let her know we can come another day. You don’t look like you’re feeling well.”
“I’m not...Ryan was just here.”
His body suddenly stiffened, and he looked down at me with his jaw clenched. “Your ex-husband Ryan?”
I nodded.
“What did he want?”
“I don’t know...I told him to leave. I didn’t want to talk to him.”
“Good.” His eyes softened a bit, but I could tell he was upset. “How does he know where you work?”
“I don’t know...” Caroline and Ashley knew better than to discuss me with Ryan, just like they knew better than to discuss him with me. The few mutual friends we shared back in Pittsburgh only knew tidbits of my new life—nothing major, and they would never share any information with him.
“Do you know why he would bother coming to San Francisco?”
I shook my head. There was nothing here for him.
“Hmmm.” He pulled me close and kissed my hair. “I’ll make sure he never bothers you again.”
I wanted to ask, “How?” but I knew he would handle it. I leaned against him and sighed as he led me over to the passenger side of his car.
“Since you’re finally leaving work on time today, what would you like for dinner?” He revved up the engine and looked over at me.
“You.”
“That’s implied.” He grinned. “We can order something in.”
He pulled off and sped onto the highway, making me smile at how perfect my life was right now, how everything I wanted and needed was sitting next to me in this car.
As I looked out my window and watched the city disappear in the distance, I tried not to think about Ryan’s visit, but I couldn’t help it.
Outside of scheduling time to see our daughters, Ryan hadn’t bothered me any other year that I’d been living here. He knew not to, and I didn’t need my painful past colliding with my perfect present. Ever.
It has to be something really serious for him to come here...No, f**k him. It doesn’t matter what it is...
Chapter 1.5
Claire
Summer 2009
“You didn’t see any of this coming, Claire?” My next door neighbor Andrea handed me a box. “There had to be signs.”
“No. There weren’t any signs...” I gritted my teeth.
“I’m sorry...I just—”
“You just what?”
“Amanda’s a really good person...”
“Are you f**king kidding me, Andrea? I asked you over so you could help load up my car, not stand there and defend that ho-bag.”
She sighed. “I’m sorry...I just thought you would’ve been a little suspicious...”
“Suspicious about what?”
“The two of them hanging out so much maybe?” She placed the girls’ blankets into my trunk and shut it. “Michael and I thought something was up when the three of you came to our Christmas party last year...They spent an awful lot of time on our patio...”