“What was in the box, you said you received? What information did you think I revealed?”
She didn’t have time to filter her answers, the words came tumbling out. “There were pictures, articles, and a letter. It all explained that your birth name was Anton Rawls, you changed it after the death of your grandfather and parents.” As the words flowed, she realized the thing she’d been missing. She didn’t say grandparents and parents. What happened to Tony’s grandmother? Could she still be alive? She would be very old. Maybe, she sent Claire the information? Or maybe, she was behind this vendetta. Would it lessen the sting if Claire learned it wasn’t all Tony’s doing?
“Was it handwritten? Where is it? I’d like to see it.”
“Yes, the note was handwritten. I thought it looked like your writing. It wasn’t signed, but you never signed anything.” It was Claire’s turn to look down. “You can’t see it,” She exhaled, “I burned it.”
She heard him laugh, “You what?”
Looking up, squaring her shoulders, she repeated, “I burned it, all of it. I took it to the incinerator at the prison and watched it burn.”
He stared for a moment and exclaimed, “You are serious. You have no proof of anything you just said? You burned it.” His shoulders relaxed. The tension that glued his muscles together, dissipated before her eyes. He continued, “I don’t know who sent it to you. I did confirm, today, that you received a box in October of last year. The prison said the return address was Emily’s.”
Claire nodded. “Yes, I assumed it was books or something.”
He exhaled again, “Burned it. Why?”
“I’ve asked myself that same question a thousand times. I believe it was a cleansing of sorts, my way of removing you from my life.”
Tony smirked, “How is that working for you?”
The tension in the room disintegrated, like the ashes of her information. She couldn’t help but grin. “Not as well as I’d hoped.” Claire glanced at a clock, 11:16. “I really do need to get ready for my lunch date.” There was no reason to emphasize the last word, but she did. “If we’re done, I’d like you to leave.” Her voice no longer held the urgency from before. While the ability to direct his movements empowered her, the memory of destroying the evidence subdued her.
“I would like to ask you one more thing?” She nodded; her strength to fight him was waning. “Who was the expected recipient of that dazzling smile?”
Claire’s mind spun. What smile? “What are you talking about?”
“When you first opened the door, your smile was earth shaking. Who were you expecting?”
“A good friend.”
Tony raised his eyebrows, but Claire didn’t respond. She didn’t have to. She’d answered his question, the first time he asked. She didn’t owe him anymore. Truthfully, she no longer owed him that.
Claire stood, “If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you to the door.”
Tony stood, “I will not give-up my quest.” Though his tone was friendly, his words were both a promise and a threat; they both knew it.
The living room and hall continued to stretch making the walk to the door endless. Finally they reached her destination.
“Please give Catherine my love.” As she reached for the door handle she continued, “If you have truly changed, as you claim, you will respect my decisions. If that is the case, you are wasting your time.”
“I have invested much more.” He paused, “One last thing,” his words slowed, “do not share your unsupported theories -- with anyone.”
Claire straightened her neck, once again facing off with her ex. “I’m sorry. It’s too late for that.”
He reached for her hand. Her thoughts were forming too slowly to react with enough speed, to save it from his clutches. He lowered his lips to soft skin as his fingertips brushed her palm beneath. Waves of warmth radiated throughout her body. Before releasing her captured appendage, he warned, “Be careful. You don’t want to disappoint me.” He dropped her hand as his dark brown eyes peered into the depths of her soul.
She maintained eye contact, “That – is no longer my concern. Good-bye, Tony.”
He nodded, turned and strode toward the elevator. She watched his tall, elegant body disappear down the hallway.
It took her a minute; finally, she shut the door and collapsed with her back against the hard wooden surface. Her Emily phone fell from her camisole. The sound of shattering, refocused her thoughts. The small black devise lay helpless on the shiny marble floor. Dropping to her knees, she retrieved the phone. Opening its cover, the screen was black. Not registering the implication, she remembered Tony’s eyes. When he left, were they black, or had he kept them under control? Could he really change? Could she ever forgive him?