“What is it, Mrs. Callahan?” Amy rushed from the kitchen. Amy and Claire had been best friends since middle school, and she had been helping with the final preparations for the next day. Claire had been there earlier, but she had snuck out to see Trent before the big event.
“Call Trent,” Willow said to Amy as she knelt next to Claire on the floor. “Are you okay, honey?”
“No!” Claire managed to say through tears. “Not him.”
“Why not?” Amy asked, her fingers already dialing Trent’s number.
“Don’t call him,” Claire said as she tried to move, but the weight in her mind was enough to keep her motionless.
Willow and Amy looked at Claire. “Why not? I think he should know that you’re sick,” Amy said.
“I’m not sick and there won’t be a wedding,” Claire responded. “It’s over.”
For a few seconds, no one said a word. Willow got on the floor with her daughter and tried to hug her. “It’s normal to get cold feet. We have talked about this. When I married your dad…”
“I don’t have cold feet, Mom,” Claire said to the woman as she got off the floor, pushing her mother away. “I just saw his cheating ass with another woman.”
“What do you mean you saw his cheating ass with another woman?” Amy asked.
But Claire had risen from the floor and was walking toward the kitchen. Willow got off the floor and followed her daughter. “Talk to us, Claire,” Willow said. “Please.”
Claire ignored them as she walked to the kitchen, but they followed closely. She walked to the fridge for a bottle of cold water and sat on a stool next to the kitchen island. She placed the water against her forehead and rested her hand on the countertop. Her mother and friend sat next to her patiently.
Claire tried to grip the edges of the island, but her fingers slipped and slid over the glassy surface. Her knuckles whitened as she stared at the countertop. In a release of rage, she slammed her palms down on it. The two women jumped when she did, and Willow tried to hold her once more. Claire gently pushed her away.
“I’m okay, Mom.”
“What happened?” her mom asked gently. “You don’t have to say anything right now if you don’t want to…”
“I wanted to surprise him one last time before the wedding,” Claire laughed amidst the tears that had started trickling again. “But there he was, his hands all over some woman.”
“Claire, I’m so sorry,” Amy said. “That’s messed up.”
Claire turned her head to look at her audience as if she just realized they were there.
“My poor baby,” her mom whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
“The two of them have been an item for a long time. The way he looked at her, touched her, kissed her. I could tell this has been going on forever…” her voice cracked, and she started sobbing. “I can tell he’s been sleeping with her.”
“Come here,” Willow said as she put her arms around her daughter, and this time Claire didn’t resist. She led her to the living room and sat next to her on the sofa. Amy stood a few inches away.
“And he tried to tell me…” Claire started but her voice cracked again.
“Sweetheart. It’ll be okay,” Willow said as she pulled her into a hug. Claire’s shoulders rocked as she let out all her hurt and pain on her mother’s shoulder.
Eventually the shaking stopped. Claire rested her head against the velvet sofa. “Why would he do that?” she asked. “Why did he ask me to marry him if he knew he was in love with someone else? What if I hadn’t seen him this evening? Would he have left me at the altar tomorrow?”
“There is no easy answer to that, Claire,” Willow said as she smoothed her hair. “Sometimes people just do stupid things.”
“This was beyond stupid,” she said and got up. “And if anything, I was the fool!”
“No, don’t say that, Claire,” Willow said. “You know that’s not true.”
“Well, he’s the one having sex with some girl in his house, and I’m here crying over him. How does that not make me an idiot?”
“Claire, don’t be too hard on yourself,” Amy said. “You didn’t do anything—”
But Claire cut her off. “I need to be on my own for a while.”
“Yeah, sure,” Willow said quickly, and she and Amy watched Claire climb up the stairs that led to her bedroom.
Once Claire closed the door behind her, she stepped out on the little patio next to the sliding doors in her room. Usually the fresh air calmed her, and she closed her eyes, expecting the same results. When she opened her eyes, she saw nothing ahead of her, and when she closed them, she saw Trent standing in the passageway with her. She started crying again. She returned to her room as she tugged the clothes from her body and ran to the shower. She filled the bathtub with water, having every intention of letting the warmth of it soothe her sorrows. But it did little to quell the storm raging in her, and her tears were lost in the bath water. She finally got out of the tub, lay on her bed, and cried herself to sleep.
She woke hours later; a red light was flashing on her phone indicating she had new messages, but she didn’t want to talk to anyone tonight, or any night for that matter. It was probably Trent anyways, and she was never going to talk to him again.