Claire: I’m sure Graham found it more fun to bring along someone he’s sleeping with.
Another lie—a semiromantic companion was the last person Graham would have usually brought to his parent’s place. Especially now that she knew his mom’s penchant for matchmaking. And heart-stealing, for that matter. One weekend and Claire loved the woman.
Mia: So we’re just gonna pretend this wasn’t a big deal?
Claire: We’re trying to, but you’re not making it easy.
Mia: You won’t give me anything? Not even a single tidbit of what happened down there?
Claire: His mom beat me at gin rummy.
Mia: Did she live to tell about it?
Claire: Only because that woman is a fucking delight.
Mia: Wow, what else?
Claire: Oh, his mom heard us having sex.
Mia: WHAT
Mia: NO
Mia: OMG
Claire: And that is why, no matter how badly you want something to happen between me and Graham, it never will because I can never show my face in that house again.
Claire: That’s all you’re getting. Gertie needs a walk.
Claire tossed her phone down and glanced at Gertrude, curled up at the foot of the bed.
“Let me change and brush my teeth and then we’ll take a nice long stroll around the block, okay? I need some fresh air while I think about what I’m gonna say to your dad.”
She put on a sports bra, a fresh top, and some yoga pants before padding to the bathroom to pee and brush her teeth. It wasn’t until she had the toothbrush in her mouth and glanced into the mirror that she saw the note.
Check your email, Ms. Sparkles.
She frowned, her brain briefly asking, Who the hell is Ms. Sparkles? before she made the connection. Why did he want her to check her old email account?
Coffee was the next priority, but Graham had gallantly left her half a pot warming on the hot plate. She idly wondered if he’d still do gestures like that after she cut things off. Was it possible for them to go back to the friendship they’d had before, or would it become stilted and awkward?
Good thing Reagan was due back today. They could use the buffer.
She poured a fresh cup and tossed a small bone to Gertrude to distract her while Claire sat down at the computer. It took her a few tries to get the password right, but when she finally got in her account, it was populated with several emails from two senders: [email protected] and [email protected].
Graham had emailed her? What the...?
She opened the oldest one first, and her confused frown quickly shifted to a smile as she read.
You went to work and I’m bored out of my fucking mind and Noah won’t be here for another hour, so I’m trying my hand at your journaling suggestion. It still feels weird to write to no one so I’m writing to you, instead.
She laughed into the quiet house, marveling that he’d actually listened to her for once. The first email was from several weeks ago, and she glanced at the most recent—this weekend. He’d been writing to her this whole time?
She pored over the words, shaking her head, snorting, and chuckling at his whining, sarcasm, and how very Graham the emails were. It was clear that at first, he thought the entire exercise was ridiculous.
But as she continued reading, his tone began to change, and she slowed down to process each thought. Every line. Some of the written revelations had recently come out in conversation, though not in as much detail. It seemed her experience with journaling was true for him, too—sometimes it was easier to work through things on paper first. Pride filled her as she realized he’d really made an effort to process things he’d never let himself dwell on before.
Like things that inspired him:
I heard something once I try to live by:
“A ship is safe in the harbor,
but that’s not what ships are made for.”
Realizing he had people around him who love him:
Some of my buddies from the station wanted to stop by this afternoon, but I said (er, texted) no. I feel weird not being able to talk to them. Come to think of it, I wasn’t comfortable when Reagan was here, either. But with you and Noah I couldn’t care less. Mia, too, probably. And maybe Chris.
Does that mean you’re my people?
Acknowledging his need to feel emotions:
I love adventure more than anything else, and probably always will. I’ve been thinking about it all day and realized it’s one of the only places I feel things.
And identifying when he stopped showing them in the first place:
That pretty much solidified that, even as an adult, letting people see the real me and meet my family just wasn’t an option.
She rubbed a palm across her sternum as she relived his experiences, absorbing the whole picture of who he was all at once. A strange mix of fascination and sorrow settled low in her gut as she realized just how deep his passion for adventure ran and how important it was to him. How it had served as an escape and a gift to a man who needed something to prove he was worth believing in.
That he’d trusted her enough to share these things with her was momentous in itself, but then...he started to write about her.
Things that made her breath catch and her heart lodge in her throat.
High: I woke up with you curled up against my side.
PS. Remember when we were at that restaurant and you told off the guy on his phone? I didn’t want you to give him your number.
I’m just feeling...something. Something I haven’t let myself feel in a long time, and I don’t know why it’s changing with you.
I’ve never felt judged by you.
Even when you say I’m an asshole. For some reason I find it endearing.
Then came you. A woman who I can be myself around and who I’m actually going to let come meet my parents. And you know what I don’t feel this time?
Fear.
By the time she made it to the final email, she knew what she’d find inside. She knew because he’d been different with her this weekend. It was in the soft way he looked at her and in the gentle intensity of his touch.
She knew because she felt it, too.
I’ve fallen in love with you.
I can’t help but wonder if that will be the final piece that puts my heart back together. If so, know that it will be all yours, whether I can tell you or not.
I hope you want it as much as I want you to have it.
Tears streamed down her face as she stared, the words that should have made her heart burst with joy swimming in a blur across the screen. How long had she wished for a man to love and who loved her back, someone to share her life with? For a man who saw her as she was, flaws and all, and loved her all the more because of it?
What was the universe playing at?
Because as much as she cared for Graham and deeply wished things were different, she had to take a step back. It had been one thing when they agreed to just sex, because feelings hadn’t been part of that deal.
She couldn’t handle an attachment to a man who lived like he did. Her reaction the day he arrived in the ER and then again after last night’s dream made that fact painfully clear.
She swallowed a sob and leaned forward to bury her face in her arms. She’d already decided they needed to talk, and knew it wouldn’t be easy. But now? After reading him lay his heart bare?
She didn’t know how she’d survive it.
24
By midafternoon, Graham started to regret his decision.
He’d heard nothing from Claire all day. He wasn’t sure exactly what he’d expected...but it definitely wasn’t nothing.
Maybe he’d hoped for a text that said, I got your emails. Can’t wait until you get home, followed by a naked picture?
A kiss or heart emoji at the very least.
What did her silence mean?
By the time Graham’s buddy dropped him at home, his stomach was in knots. Suddenly he was thirteen again, back in that media room waiting for the girl he liked to show up.
He shook the thought away. This is different. Claire’s different.