Page 107 of Bleeding Hearts

“I will be. Don’t worry about me,” I tell her.

“Can’t help it.” She shrugs.

“I know.” I nod, understanding the feeling well. “Go make your muffins. I love you, honey pop,” I say, and she laughs loudly, the sound a straight shot to my heart.

“What even is a honey pop?” she asks, and I shrug, honestly having no clue.

“I love you too.” She smiles before kissing me softly against my lips. “Okay, go,” she says, pulling away.

I open the door and she locks it behind me.

I’ve been thinking about what Demi’s mother could possibly want in meeting with me. I would like to think that she wants to tell me she’s deciding to come forward, but I don’t want to get my hopes up.

On top of that, why would she choose to tell me and not Demi?

I know she knows her daughter wouldn’t meet her alone anytime soon, but I could’ve gone with her. She told me not to tell Demi I was meeting with her though, even though I did.

She wanted it to be a secret and I can’t figure out why.

I don’t even know how she got my number. I’ve never met or spoken to Demi’s mother before in my life. Yesterday was the first time I’ve even seen what she looks like. Why she’d reach out to me, of all people, doesn’t make sense.

I decide to walk to Louisa’s, knowing the parking around there isn’t the greatest. It’s only a fifteen-minute walk from Demi’s apartment, and the weather is finally warming up.

The sun is out, not a rain cloud in sight, a rarity here, making it a beautiful day.

I walk into the café and see Clara sitting at a table in a corner. She looks different from what she did yesterday.

She’s still dressed nicely in a navy-blue dress and nude heels that stand out as overdressed in Louisa’s, but the rest of her isn’t as put together.

Her long brown hair is pulled back in a low pony, but it looks more like it was to get it out of her face rather than it being styled that way. She doesn’t seem like she’s wearing much makeup, if any, and the bags under her eyes are stark against her pale skin.

She doesn’t notice me as I walk in, her attention focused on the window, a forlorn look in her eyes.

I walk up to her slowly, her eyes turning to meet mine as I reach the table. I sit down across from her without a word, not much in the mood for niceties.

“Hello, Asher.” She nods her head politely toward me. “Thank you for meeting with me.”

“Clara,” I say back. “Want to tell me what I’m doing here?” I waste no time getting to the point.

“Did you tell Demi you were meeting with me?” she asks, an inquisitive look in her eyes.

“Yes.” I don’t hesitate. “I don’t keep secrets from your daughter, and you shouldn’t ask me to.”

I expect her to be disappointed or annoyed, at the very least, but none of that happens. Instead, she smiles, and I’m caught off guard by how much she looks like her daughter when she does. So similar to the smile of the woman I fell in love with.

“Good,” she says kindly. “I’m sorry for testing you that way, but I needed to know that she could trust you. I needed to know that she was in good hands.”

“After what you put her through, you’re worried about me?” I ask, confused.

“I know it may not seem like it, but I love my daughter. I was a horrible mother, I failed her in so many ways, and still, she turned into a wonderful, kind person. She deserves a life full of happiness rather than the cruel one she grew up in,” she says, a single tear falling down her cheek that she quickly brushes away.

“I spent my morning at the police station. I told them everything, dating back to before Demi was even born.” She swallows, sitting up straighter. “Alexander is being arrested as we speak. I’m sure he won’t take it well and there will be a trial that Demi and I will have to testify at, but even so, my lawyer tells me he will be fighting a losing battle.”

I smile to myself at her word choice, although she doesn’t realize it. It makes me happy to know that he’ll be on the losing side of things for once, that even if Demi has to testify and face the monster again, it will be with the knowledge that she has the upper hand this time, not him.

“Unfortunately, the justice system won’t lock him up forever, but he is going away for a long time. With my corroboration, Demi’s statement will be taken seriously and the charges against you should be dropped,” she adds, and I breathe a sigh of relief.

“What made you decide to come forward, if you don’t mind me asking?” I ask, surprised at the turn of events the conversation has taken.

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