“I have the pictures from last week.” He slid them across my desk. “How much longer do you need me to do this?”
“Until I figure out what the f**k happened...” I opened the folder and thumbed through the photos: Claire was shopping, having drinks with Sandra and Helen, cheering on the twins at their cheerleading competitions, and sitting on the beach with my charm necklace around her neck—staring off into the distance.
“She’s cruising down to Florida next week. She and her friends are taking a short ride to the Virgin Islands and then they’ll be flying back.”
What? “She’s getting on a plane?”
“There’s a ticket in her name so I assume that’s what’s going to happen...”
“When was the ticket purchased?”
“Last Friday. She, Helen, and Sandra went to the airport to get them instead of buying them online for some strange reason. That reminds me, she’s been going to some type of phobia therapy at a private clinic every Tuesday and Thursday. I’ve verified that the sessions are three hours long and they’re one-on-one, but there’s doctor-patient privacy so I can’t tell you exactly what it’s for.”
I know what it’s for... “Thank you very much, Corey. I’ll um...I won’t need you to do this for too much longer.”
“Take all the time you need.” He gave me a half smile. “It’s not a hassle at all.” He patted my shoulder and walked out of my office.
I still couldn’t figure out how the hell me and Claire went from making love one night to breaking up the next day. It didn’t make any sense, and I’d tried to think of every hypothetical scenario possible: She’d met someone else her age or older, someone had said something to her—making her feel bad about our relationship, or she woke up and decided that she really didn’t want me anymore.
Yet, none of those scenarios added up: From the pictures, her life was the same—I just wasn’t in it anymore. She’d never mentioned anyone saying anything to her and I’d checked her phone records over and over. There were a few stray numbers here or there, but the conversations were always a minute or less so I figured they were probably quick conversations with her associates. And that last scenario, the most hurtful one, didn’t make much sense either—not when she’d almost said “I love you too” right after I said “I love you” the night before we broke up.
I tossed the pictures into the trash and called the IT department. “Could you please send me those phone records again? Could you expand the field from one month ago to three months ago please? Yes...That’d be fine...Yes, that would be the week of my birthday...Thank you very much.”
Chapter 28
Jonathan
“Mr. Statham? Mr. Statham?” My therapist tapped her notebook.
“Yes?”
“Did you hear what your mother just said?”
“No.”
“She said she’s starting to remember some of the past now. Are you ready to sit over here with us so we can discuss that?”
I stood by my floor to ceiling windows and sighed. “Miss Tate, can we please reschedule this session? I apologize, but I can’t give you my undivided attention today.”
“Not a problem...I’ll have my secretary call Angela in the morning.”
“Thank you.” I heard her gathering her things and walking out the door. I felt a small hand on my shoulder and turned to see my mother looking up at me.
“Are you alright?” She tilted her head to the side. “I’ve never seen you like this...You’ve been moping around for weeks.”
“No. I am not alright.”
“What happened?”
“I—”
“Mr. Statham?” Angela stepped into my office. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but you promised that I could go home early since it’s my birthday and...Well, it’s one o’ clock and you haven’t mentioned—”
“I’m so sorry, Angela. I completely forgot.” I walked over to my desk and pulled out a drawer. I lifted a red gift bag up and handed it to her. “Happy Birthday, I really appreciate everything you do. I told HR that you’ll still need to be paid, but you don’t have to come back until Monday. Enjoy the rest of the week off.”
“What? Thank you! Thank you very much! I’ll make sure a temp will be here for you before I go...Oh, and Mrs. Statham,” she said as she reached into her pocket and pulled out a new sPhone. “This came in for you yesterday. I had them give you a new number again.”
“Oh! Well, I finally figured everything out dear. I don’t need any more sPhones. I’ll just keep the number I have.”
“Good, because I think seven numbers is enough.” She laughed. “I’ll see you next Wednesday, Mr. Statham. Thank you again.”
“You’re welcome.” I took my place at the window again and sighed.
My mom put her hand on my shoulder. “Are you going to tell me what happened now?”
“Claire left me...”
“What?” She gasped. “When was this?”
“The day after we all had dinner together...”
“Did she say why?”
“Not really.”