Authors: Aleatha Romig
Dreaming or awake, we
perceive only events that have meaning to us.
-
Jane Roberts
Chapter
18
Claire looked up into the sparkling velvety
brown eyes. Damn, she’d been seeing those same eyes and that
Cheshire expression all night long. Crossing her arms over her
breasts, she exhaled, “Please, I have lunch plans, and I’d like to
change. Question what you want and go.”
“
Do you only entertain in
the entry, or may we sit?”
His gentlemanly tone was difficult to
resist. “We may sit.” She led him to the living room. As they sat,
him on the sofa and her in a chair, she added, “I know you enjoy
coffee, I’d offer you some. But, the last time I got you coffee, it
didn’t work out so well for me.”
Tony smirked, “God, Claire you’re something
else. I can’t imagine anyone else joking about that.”
“
Well, see, you
misinterpreted. I wasn’t joking. I’m actually still pissed as
hell.” This wasn’t something she could have said while they were
married. And definitely not something she would have said in a
restaurant, even a restaurant devoid of other patrons. Some details
of their life could only be discussed in private. His rules
regarding privacy and appearance were as ingrained as
punctuality.
“
Good for you.” He leaned
toward her, his eyes devouring her entirely, until she questioned
her own presence. “Your ability to admit your displeasure is
refreshing. It encourages me to be honest, too.”
Claire did her best to glare, “Honesty. That
would be a refreshing change.”
His expression remained soft and so were his
words, “You should know ...I am sorry.”
The world as Claire knew
it, shifted. Perhaps it was an earthquake, they do happen in
California. Why couldn’t he be domineering or abrasive?
That
she could resist.
But, apologetic, in the depths of her soul, she never expected to
hear those three words.
“
What?” She tried
unsuccessfully to subdue the overpowering trembling. The volume of
her voice rose exponentially with each phrase, “You’re sorry?” The
years of submission, incarceration, and domination bubbled out. No,
not bubbled -- gushed. This was not
his
house. She was not sequestered
away from the love and support of others. She’d say whatever she
wanted, and then tell him to leave. If he didn’t – she’d call
security. They were after all, on her call log. “Well, Tony, I
believe I need a little clarification. Tell me what
exactly
you’re sorry
about. I’ll gladly give you a few options.”
The fury surging through
her veins wouldn’t allow her to remain seated. She stood and paced,
around the coffee table, in front of the large windows, back to the
chair and again to the coffee table. She felt his eyes on her, as
she made multiple slow and methodical loops. Her mind was a
whirlwind, a tornado, of words. Each syllable vehemently rushed to
get out. Instead of opening the flood gate, Claire took a few deep
breaths. She wanted to proceed slowly, clearing away the debris
cluttering her mind, and choose the right words. Finally, she
began, “First, you’re
sorry
for invading my privacy for years, years before I
even knew you existed. Second, you’re
sorry
for kidnapping me, isolating,
controlling me, and manipulating me. Third, you’re
sorry
for lying to me,
pretending you cared and oh yeah, marrying me. Fourth, listen
carefully Tony, this is a big one... you’re
sorry
for framing me for attempted
murder, resulting in incarceration in a federal penitentiary.” She
sat back down, arms once again crossed over her breasts. It was the
most direct she’d ever spoken to him, and it felt liberating.
Unfortunately, the resentment coursing through her veins wouldn’t
allow her to relish her new found independence.
She expected her words to incite anger;
after all, she’d experienced his anger before. Nevertheless,
carelessly and unapologetically Claire forged ahead, “I would
prefer the words, but you are welcome to say, one through four, if
that’s easier for you.”
He leaned forward. Cautiously she looked up
into his face. Her body trembled. The cause may have been the fury
she’d just released, or perhaps fear of his anticipated reaction.
Then she took in his expression and without warning the trembling
stopped. His eyes were soft, the color of melted chocolate -- even
sad, overflowing with regret. He reached for her hand and gently
tugged. Slowly, Claire released her appendage, allowing it to sit
in his large palm. Tenderly he closed his fingers encasing her
petite hand.
“
I am deeply sorry for one
and four.” He rubbed the top of her hand with his thumb. “I did
provide you with an alternative destination for number four.”
Claire exhaled audibly, Tony continued, “I am not proud of two, but
three would never have happened without it.” His tone deepened and
slowed, “I am not, and never will be sorry for three. And, for the
record, I never
lied about
or
pretended
to love you. I didn’t realize it at first, but I
have loved you since before you knew my name.” He slowly lifted the
hand he held and lowered his lips to the firm soft skin. “And, you
forgot our divorce. I am sincerely sorry for that also. Had I known
you would be released so soon, we could still be married.” He
placed her left hand on her knee, and stroked her empty fourth
finger. “You could still
officially
be mine.”
Was he implying
that
unofficially
she still was? He waited.
As Claire contemplated
Tony’s words, she thought about her rings. Did he know she’d sold
them? Then she noticed him eying the two cellphones on the table,
in front of her. She quickly reached for her
Emily phone
and slid it into her
camisole between her breasts. Yoga pants don’t have
pockets.
Tony closed his eyes and gently shook his
head. “If I didn’t want to see that phone before, I sure as hell do
now.”
“
It’s my
work
phone.”
When had lying become so easy?
“
Oh, I was unaware of your
employment.”
“
Really, I guess I forgot
to inform you or your spies.” She didn’t think it was appropriate
to use Phillip’s name.
“
Claire, I want to show
you that I can change. Have as many damn phones as you want. Two
seem excessive, but go for it.”
“
Thank you for your
permission. I don’t need it. I can have fifty phones, if I
want.”
Tony nodded, with a stupid grin and a spark
in his eyes. Claire continued, “It’s documented, when a person is
forbidden something, once it’s made available, they tend to
overindulge.”
Tony met her gaze, his tone a sultry melody,
“Before it is made available, a person may dream of it, long for
it, and fantasize about it. Especially if they once had it and know
how amazing it is.”
God she hated him, and not! Her insides
tightened as the feelings from last night returned. The
inappropriate sensations, deep inside, threatened her irrelevant
tone. “I don’t recall availability being an issue for you.”
“
Be careful, Claire. That
could be interpreted as an invitation.”
“
Then once again, you
would be misinterpreting.” She stood.
He stood and stepped toward her. She
remained strong and defiant, straightening her spine and standing
as tall, as her five–four frame would allow. At the same time, she
wanted to crumble. Their bodies stood resolute, untouching,
separated by inches. Those inches might as well have been miles.
The space created a deep chasm, filled with a magnitude of baggage
and memories. Impassable, the gorge served as an insurmountable
barrier.
Or, could the gap be closed? His voice held
more than a hint of sensuality, “I believe you want, what I want,
as much as I do.”
Claire feigned strength and ignorance. What
had she told Phillip Roach? She said, she didn’t recommend lying to
her ex-husband. Yet, here she was, giving it her all. “If you’re
suggesting I want you to leave, you are absolutely correct. If
you’re suggesting anything else, it couldn’t be farther from the
truth.” His cologne penetrated her subconscious, the same
exhilarating scent that infiltrated her dreams.
His head bowed slightly. Claire feared he
would kiss her. She wanted to back away and at the same time, she
wanted to feel his lips on hers. She fought the urge to lift her
chin toward him, surrendering her hungry mouth.
The only possible conclusion she could
ascertain was Tony was a giant magnet. His pull affected
everything, from the rotation of the earth, to her mind’s ability
to reason. Losing her battle, she slowly tilted her face
upward.
He gently held her chin, as his voice
continued with its seductive undertone, “You, my dear, have never
been a good liar.”
In a moment of strength, Claire backed away
and sat, exasperated. She’d willingly admit defeat in this stupid
stare-off. His proximity was more than she could bear. She needed
air and space. Her arms once again crossed her heaving bosom,
igniting friction on her disloyal nipples. Frustrated, she
admitted, “You’re right. Your deceitfulness far exceeds my modest
attempts at dishonesty. I bow-down to your superior duplicity.”
Tony retook his seat on the sofa as his knee
touched hers. “I know you have no reason to believe me, but I
thought you should know why I came to California.”
She looked up into his genuine gaze,
“Why?”
“
To take you back to
Iowa.”
Claire stared at her
ex-husband. A momentary feeling of panic filled her senses. She sat
dumbfounded, unable to respond, afraid to trust her own voice. The
appealing idea to slap his smug face and scream at him, danced
through her consciousness. She knew she couldn’t do it. She’d
already pushed her luck with her earlier verbal tirade.
Nevertheless, the fleeting thought made her smile. Simultaneously,
she fought the desires she’d been experiencing all night. That
traitorous part of her wanted to forget all reason and take
whatever he offered, and more. Eventually, wisdom prevailed; she
responded, “Well, since
this time
I have a choice, I’m going to say
no
.”
“
Catherine misses
you.”
She searched his face for insincerity and
found none. However, she’d misjudged that in the past. The sound of
the woman’s name made her heart ache. Claire had no reason to lie,
“I miss her, too.” Hesitantly she asked, “Does she believe I tried
to kill you?”
His half smile and softened eyes
disappeared. Breaking the connection he looked down at his own
hands. Shaking his head slightly, he answered, “I’m not sure. We’ve
never discussed it. I know at first she was worried about me. Then
once I was well, she was upset, but I don’t know for sure if it was
at you or at me. The subject’s never come up.”
“
Then how do you know she
misses me?”
“
I just do. When word came
of your pardon...”
She interrupted him, “You were angry.”
This time he stood and paced. Claire watched
his jaw clench and unclench. She’d seen it before; his attempt to
maintain control. Part of her wanted him to lose it, not a
masochistic desire, more clarification. The frightening domineering
man was much easier to resist than the sensual, apologetic one.
Tony stopped at the large
windows. His back toward her, he seemed to be absorbing the view,
taking in the mountains and sunlit sky. Silently she waited and
watched. Eventually his shoulders squared, and with his back still
toward her, she heard his restrained voice, “I was. I admit I
was... stunned. Governor Preston informed me of your release
two weeks
after it
occurred.” He emphasized the two weeks. “I was angry at everyone,
at
you
for being
pardoned, at Jane Allyson for presenting the petition, at Governor
Bosley for signing it. Hell, I was even mad at the clerk that filed
it.” He turned toward her. She knew those black eyes. He may have
restrained his voice, but his true emotion shone like beacons
through his intense gaze. Refusing to look away, Claire met his
stare with her own intensity. He went on, “I finally figured out,
the person I was the most upset with, was
me
. For the first time in
years
, yes more than
three -- you know that now-- I’d lost track of you.” His volume
increased, “My god, you were gone!”
There were so many things churning in her
brain Claire couldn’t speak. There were statements, accusations,
and questions. None would make themselves known. She just watched,
knowing she’d done what she’d subconsciously wanted. She’d pushed
him to the brink. Tony lingered on the precipice; a slight breeze
could push him into a complete meltdown.
Her heart beat rapidly, as he walked toward
her. There was no violence. His tone and eyes mellowed. He resumed
his seat. “Damn it, Claire. Nothing has been the same without you.
The house is just a big empty hole.”
She exhaled and asked, “Tell me why?”
He looked puzzled, “Why is
it empty? Because
you
are not there.”