Page 117 of Implode

Nothing about this fucking situation is okay. But I keep my cool. The last thing Claire and the baby need right now is more stress. “I’m trying to figure this all out, baby. I know you are disturbed that you are being watched or followed by someone, but I’m going to do everything in my power to protect you.”

“I trust you.”

I kiss the top of her head and hold her tightly to me. It is an honor to have Claire’s trust, and while she is freaking out, on the inside I am too. I want those who are behind all of this to suffer a slow torture. While the list of potential suspects grows, I am getting further and further away from figuring out who is ultimately responsible.

30

CLAIRE

Agreeing to let Nic into my heart comes with a lot of stipulations. For starters, he is refusing to let me stay alone in my apartment, reciting some big monologue about making up for lost time and taking advantage of every opportunity to explore living together under the same roof.

I know he is spooked from the mysterious text message, and I also know he is keeping things from me. He may see it as protecting me, but he also doesn’t realize how much I overthink just about everything in my life. These secrets are messing with my mental state, but no matter how many times I ask, he just reassures me that I will be safe.

I am enjoying a bowl of cereal on his sofa when he walks out from his office down the hallway and joins me. I offer up a spoonful of carbs, which he accepts, and then place my sore feet onto his lap for rubbing.

Even in this building, I know that security has been tightened. I can’t even go to get the mail without seeing extra “residents”—dressed in nondescript clothes—watching what I’m doing. When I bring this to Nic’s attention, he vaguely reminds me that my safety matters most to him and that he’s handling it.

“I may need you to conduct your Plus None business remotely,” he says hesitantly. He presents his statement like it is still being decided, but from the look in his eyes, I can already tell his mind is made up.

“No. I can’t do that,” I say simply. “I can tolerate a lot of things, but I can’t accept what you are proposing.”

“Claire…”

“Don’tClaireme, Nic. This is my career and it brings me happiness. I am a cofounder and need to step up to the plate while Angie is on her honeymoon. She leaves today. Who knows, maybe she and Graham are at their destination by now.”

He sighs and then runs one hand down the back of his neck. “What if I told you it is no longer safe to be at HH?”

“I would find you utterly paranoid. I have to be safer being close to you and in the same building than I would be if you were to leave me and keep me locked up somewhere. I have a business to run, Nic. I already have anxiety over what my job is going to look like when I am eight months pregnant or what it will look like with a newborn. I have a lot to juggle, and I fear losing this opportunity because I can’t juggle motherhood and a career.” Women put an unbelievable amount of pressure on themselves to do everything, and quite frankly it is exhausting trying to keep up with societal norms.

“You don't need to w—”

“Shhh!” I wave my hands in front of his lips, trying to get him to stop with the bullshit. He should know better. While we haven’t exactly chatted about gender roles or expectations or financial contributions, he should know me enough by now, and my determination to have a life outside of him shouldn’t surprise him in the slightest.

“But you don’t—”

“Stop. This is not about you. This is about me and my quest to figure this whole career and mommyhood thing out on my own. I don't need you throwing shade my way and making everything even more complicated.”

“I am putting more guards on you. My friend Asher is arriving today, and we need to hash out a plan. But first, get ready to go. Today’s the day for the big paternity test.”

“I’m more interested in the results that will be ready in a few days,” I say grimly.

* * *

“May the best man win,” Ethan jeers at us, with his lawyer and a three-bodyguard escort in tow. Apparently he thought I mightmake a sceneor refuse to show up. Or perhaps he’s projecting his insecurities of guilt onto me, when he’s the one who should worry about the law.

Tucking me to his side, Nic kisses my forehead. “Don’t worry about him, baby girl. Not even his entourage can protect him from me if he missteps or breathes out of turn. I said it once and I’ll say it again—he’ll never take this baby from you, no matter how delusional his mind can get.”

Glancing at Ethan, I find him smugly looking over at me. He has his arm around Deena, and his face is still wearing the marks from where Nic hit him in my apartment. Why she decided to show up with him, dressed like she is going to high tea, beats me. I think he just brought her to add to the drama and be present in a public place with lots of witnesses.

I turn my shoulder away from the nauseatingly happy couple so I can block them out of my vision—and hopefully my mind. Nic leads me down the hall away from the clinic’s entrance so we can catch a completely different elevator and not be forced to ride with them.

“At least we got to see the baby,” Nic comments, wrapping an arm around me.

Ethan insisted on seeing for himself that I was even pregnant. Like I would pretend or falsify records to be in this nightmare with him just for funsies. What did I ever see in that narcissistic asshat? In my defense, I didn’t have very good logic or self-esteem when we first met. That might have been some of my appeal. Ethan could tell me some sweet words, and I would easily take them at face value. It makes flipping the switch and still maintaining a fuck-buddy—what I ended up turning out to be—easier when trust is first established. In a way, I feel like I was groomed for his abuse.

Sicko.

I’m done using men as a way of validating my own self-worth. That is what years of emotional abuse can do to the heart and mind. I’m just glad that who I am in my core was not completely tarnished. Sure, I think about what life would have been like for me if I had two parents—hell, even one—that showed me what unconditional love is. But you can’t pick your family, you can only choose to grow up and surround yourself with people who bring you joy. I found my joy. I am just glad I healed enough to recognize what really matters.

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