Page 29 of Implode

“Because I’ve been miserable since I let you walk out of my life. What I thought I wanted and what I thought I didn’t deserve were competing with one another. I”—he clears his throat—“want a chance to try.”

“Try what?” My head is spinning, and I can’t keep up.

“Try to get you to love me again.”

8

NIC

There are few things in this world cuter than when Claire puts out her bottom lip in a pout. I can tell she is allowing my words to marinate in her brain. She is caught off guard; I get it. But once she has time to really think about what I am proposing, then she will be on board. She has to be. I let her walk out on me once, and I am not allowing history to repeat itself. Penny and my dad are right. Not everyone is Tara. It is just easier going through life acting like they are.

I have work to do on myself, I know. But I also don’t want to filter my feelings in the moment.

Sadness fills up her features, and I want to grab her from across the table and hug her to me. I miss her sass and her impulsive zest for life. So, why do I keep catching these little glimmers of melancholy from her? Why is she holding back so much?

“I have to go,” she whispers.

I reach for her handbag and place her bills that are scattered about the table back inside, straightening them as I go. “When you are with me”—I look directly in her eyes, so there is no misinterpretation—“you never have to worry about money.”

Claire winces over my words and it makes me frown. She breaks eye contact. Why is she being so timid and shy?

As she stands up from the table, I rise as well. I move over to help her slide out of her seat and place a hand on her bent elbow to keep her from tripping over the leg of her chair. I find it endearing how she seems to be clumsy around me. Maybe I get under her skin the way she gets under mine. Maybe I make her a little bit nervous and on edge.

“When can I see you again?” I ask.

She purses her lips, and her eyes get a little sparkle. I brace myself for what words are to come—most likely some smart mouth response. It’s about time. I thought she was losing her spark.

“Probably on your security footage when you see me walking into work tomorrow.”

A smile breaks out on her lips, and she knows just how much I like the bite to her words. I much prefer her wicked tongue over her sadness. I can handle my girl and all her fluctuating moods.

My girl.

I’m not much for labels, but that seems to be the best description for what Claire is to me.

“I look forward to it,” I say with the tip of my head. “Just make sure you walk extra slow, so I can savor it.” I reach into my pocket for my wallet and toss several big bills onto the table that will cover our meals and service. “Let me walk you to your car.”

Claire turns to me, and before she can say it, I know she walked here. It’s not too far from her place of residence, but I don’t like that she is walking around the city in a gorgeous dress alone. Even though we have been apart and never were in a committed relationship, I’ve seen no one, and I very much consider her still mine. I always have, even though it has taken me time to figure it out.

Everything is different with Claire. More intense. More real. She makes me feel alive and has awoken parts of my heart that I only reserved for her. She is walking through uncharted territory. Even Tara never entered those spaces. It took losing Claire to be able to separate the past from the present. It took losing her to realize how lonely it’s been living my life, while never looking toward a future.

I reach for her hand out of reflex when we walk outside, and she lets me take it. We are halfway down the block when she slips her hand out of mine. I don’t frown. I don’t ask for hers back. I know that this is progress. She is slowly melting the wall of ice she built around herself, to protect herself from me. It is only a matter of time when she will let me have full access to her again. Her submission is a gift I never thought I needed, so even the slightest lean toward me is welcome. Time. All I need is more time to make her see clearly again.

When we arrive at her apartment building, I expect her to go in the main entrance, but instead she takes me around the building to the back street. I’m about to ask her what we are doing—despite enjoying more time spent with her in any capacity—but then she smacks the hood of her street-parked car with her hand and hops her butt up onto the hood. It is candy-apple-red and suits her fiery personality perfectly.

“Here’s my car that you said you wanted to walk me to,” Claire says proudly. Her smile is so bright that it competes with the setting sun that is equally blinding.

I chuckle. “Funny.” It takes everything in me not to pull her to me and demand her to be a part of my life. “Do you want to grab breakfast in the morning? I can pick you up before work.”

And just like that the smile that I proudly thought I helped to create vanishes. I reach for a piece of her hair and tuck it behind her ear. She slides down off the car and takes a step back away from me.

“I know you don’t believe me when I say I’m sorry and that I want to have another chance, but I hope with time my actions can match my words and you gain back some confidence in what we could be.”

Her head shakes, as if she is trying to keep my words from entering it. I know with time I can prove to her that I am serious about pursuing her. For far too long, I feared commitment and avoided it at all costs. Claire changed my views on it, and it took losing her to help me to see what really matters. It is her. It has always been her.

“You want a cookie-cutter bad girl. I am just a number to you. Some tally mark on your score sheet of women. I may not have had much self-respect for myself when I permitted Ethan to involve me in your betting game, but I do now. I am better than the girl you wanted to mold me into being.”

“Don’t you know by now that you broke the mold? Who I was then and who I am at this very moment are different. You changed my mindset. You helped me to see that—”

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