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I glare at him from across the box we're both squatting next to. "You're kidding? This is what you're resorting to now?"
"Just making sure you're paying attention. Here's a good one." He takes the marker from my hand and places it on the kitchen counter as he stands. "I'm going to start competing again."
I stand up so I can look him in the eye. "Are you being serious now?" He nods and I pause for a moment before I throw my arms around his neck. "This is great! I'm so proud of you."
He laughs as he wraps his arms around my waist and lifts me onto the counter. "It's not a big deal. It's a small compet.i.tion that takes place down in Florida at the end of this month. I'll be gone for a couple of days so I won't be able to see you that weekend."
I try not to let the disappointment show on my face. Now that I'm going back to school, weekends are the only time I'll be seeing Adam. He promised to drive from Wilmington to UNC every weekend-a two and a half hour drive. I know there will be times when both of us will have other plans or commitments and there may be times when we'll go weeks without seeing each other, but it will be worth it. It will all be worth it when I have my degree and I'm given the chance to mend a child's broken heart the way I wish someone had tried to fix mine.
"I wish I could be there to watch."
"You can," he says. "I can pick you up Friday night and we'll be in Florida at least six hours before the first heat."
"Yeah, with no sleep. I can't let you go into your first compet.i.tion with no rest."
"What time does your last cla.s.s end on Friday?"
"One."
"See. We can make it to Florida by ten. I'll get plenty of rest, a.s.suming you can keep your hands off me."
He wiggles his eyebrows and I shake my head.
"Adam, you don't have to do this just to make me feel better about us being apart. I know there are going to be times when our schedules don't mesh. I'm a big girl. I can handle it."
He sighs as he leans his head back. "I just don't want us to get used to being apart."
I hook my legs around his waist and pull him closer. "We're going to be okay. We're going to spend the whole week of Thanksgiving together and four weeks during Christmas and New Year's. We're going to get sick of each other."
He doesn't look convinced. He looks the way I feel.
"You're a.s.suming that I won't have to go to Hawaii for work."
I take a deep breath as I try to resist the urge to go into the bedroom and meditate. "We'll cross that bridge when we come to it."
"Ew! Are you guys having s.e.x on the counter?" Senia squeals as she enters the apartment carrying a six-pack of beer and a six-pack of bottled water. "Well, don't let me stop you. Merry Christmas," she says, handing Adam the beer and me the water.
I slide off the counter and put the water down so I can give her a hug. "What did your dad say when you asked him for the day off?" I ask, cracking open a bottle of water and taking a long swig.
"He said if I took the day off he was going to fire me. That's only the third time this week he's used that one."
"You're such a spoiled brat," I say, shaking my head as I reach for another bottle of water.
"Yes, I am, which is why my dad is not firing me. He's buying me a new car."
"Shut up!"
Adam rolls his eyes as he scoots past us. "I'm going to check on Cora."
He scampers out of the apartment and leaves the door open on his way out. The storm that came the day of the concert has pa.s.sed, leaving behind clear skies and a warm breeze that carries in the briny scent of the ocean.
Senia grabs a bottle of water and leans up against the counter. "Yep! My dad's getting me a new car and I'm giving you the Focus."
"I'm not taking your car."
I grab the marker off the counter and march into the living room to label some more boxes. She follows me and sits on top of the first box I kneel in front of.
"You are taking my car or I'm pushing it over a cliff. You need it, Claire. Adam can't always be the one making the effort to see you. A good relationship is a balance of give and take."
"I can't believe you want to give me your car just so I can see my boyfriend on the weekends."
"Well, I didn't say that was the only reason. The position of Senia's designated driver still hasn't been filled." I push her off the box and she falls onto the floor, spilling water over the front of her halter-top. "Hey!" she squeals as she flings a splash of water in my direction.
The water hits me in the face and I suck in a sharp breath before I compose myself and run for the kitchen to get a retaliatory bottle of water. That's when I see him standing just outside the front door.
Chris is wearing a Black Keys T-shirt and a gray beanie similar to the one he wore the day we met. His expression is serious as he stands with his hands behind his back and nods at me as if he can't say the word h.e.l.lo aloud. I look to Senia and she's dumbstruck as she gawks at him from where she sits on the floor. She's met him plenty of times, but not since he became famous.
Chris turns to her and waves. "Hey, Senia."
"Hhh-hey, Chris," she replies.
He smiles awkwardly and turns back to me. "Claire." The way he says my name makes my whole body ache. "Can we talk?"
We can't talk here, with Adam across the hall.
"How did you find me?"
He doesn't have to answer. He's got money coming out of every orifice now. That was a stupid question.
"I have something I want to show you." He pulls a large manila envelope out from behind his back.
A million possibilities race through my mind at once, but only one seems likely. "Follow me," I say as I walk to the bedroom without looking at Senia.
I don't want to know if she thinks inviting Chris into my bedroom is a bad idea. I need to know what's in this envelope because I know Chris wouldn't come all the way out here if it weren't important.
I close the door behind us as we enter my bedroom. The beds were here when I moved in so they're staying behind when I move out. The mattresses look so bare without the sheets and blankets. I sit down and he hands me the envelope as he sits next to me.
I look at him for a moment in the daylight and try to determine what's different about him. "You got rid of the nose ring?"
"Yeah, I took it out of my nose and popped it straight into my lip."
"That's gross."
"You're the one who had it in your mouth when you were kissing me."
"You kissed me!"
"Is that the official story you told your boyfriend?"
"It's the truth and his name is Adam."
"Your face is wet," he says as he reaches up and brushes a drop of water from my jaw.
The familiarity with which he touches me, the comfort and ease of reaching for someone who you once knew better than yourself, all of this is embedded in this single touch. The second his skin touches mine, a shudder travels through me.
I quickly push his hand away. "Don't do that," I whisper as I stare at the tattoos on his arms to keep myself from looking into his eyes.
Most of them I recognize, but there's a new one on the inside of his right forearm that wasn't there last year. I can only see half of it from this angle, but it's definitely a shattered heart. I begin unfolding the metal clasps on the envelope and he puts his hand over mine to stop me.
"Wait. I need to explain first." I push his hand away again and he leans forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. "I felt really lost after you left on Friday. I've been feeling lost for a long time. I come home to visit every once in a while and you're not there and my mom is a f.u.c.king saint, but-"
"Chris, I'm sorry I didn't visit Jackie on Sat.u.r.day."
"No, don't apologize for that. I told her what happened and she understands."
"You told her?"
"Well, I told her I ran into you at the show, but I didn't tell her what you told me."
"Oh, thank G.o.d."
"And I didn't tell her you ripped my heart out."
He sits up and looks me in the eye and I feel like I'm sixteen again, waiting for him to tell me he loves me. His skin is so perfectly smooth. I stare at the bow of his lips the way I used to right before we were about to kiss. I wrench my eyes away to meet his gaze and his dark eyes glint with a hint of a smile that barely curls his lips.
"Claire, you don't have to keep hiding this. I'm going to fix it. I swear."
"You can't. This isn't something that can be fixed the way you fixed me."
"I'm not stupid. I know I can't get back what's not mine."
I don't know if he's talking about the baby or me, but I suddenly feel the need to meditate. I scoot back on the mattress and lay the envelope on my lap as I curl my legs underneath me.
"Then why are you here?"
"I'm here to tell you that I want to try. I talked to my lawyer about everything and he recommended a good adoption lawyer."
My heart pounds wildly as I antic.i.p.ate the direction this conversation is going. I think I know what he's going to say, but what scares me the most is that I might not want to hear it.
"I've been talking to the lawyer this week and she's been talking to the agency that handled the adoption," he continues. "The guy at the agency thinks the couple who adopted our baby might still agree to an open adoption, since the baby's only four months old." I can't move or speak so he takes the envelope from me and pulls out a stack of papers held together with a paperclip. He sets the papers facedown on the bed and smiles. "Her name is Abigail. She lives in Raleigh."
"She?" I whisper as I press my lips together.
"Yeah, and she looks just like you."
He turns the stack of papers over and there's a picture clipped to the front. She's lying in a crib on top of a fuzzy cream-colored blanket. She's lying peacefully asleep and is almost bald, but I can still glimpse a tuft of soft blonde hair growing on the top of her head. Her top lip is much bigger than her bottom lip as her mouth hangs open in a silent O. She's clutching a piece of the blanket in her chubby fist the way I do when I sleep.
"Abigail," I whisper as I shake my head.
I still can't believe it. I've been calling her Baby in my mind for four months. Every night I say a prayer that Baby is safe and warm and loved. I can see from this picture alone that Abigail is all of those things and more.
"We might be able to see her soon, but I need to know that this is what you want."
I can't tear my eyes away from the picture, as if staring at it long enough will cause some kind of cosmic epiphany and I'll suddenly know what to do and say. I made the tough decision of giving her up four months ago so that I wouldn't have make these kinds of difficult decisions until I was old enough to know better.
She looks so peaceful. Will I ruin that just by being me?
Chris lifts my chin to tear my gaze away from the photo. "I can't do this without you."
The sound of Adam's voice in the apartment startles me. He's asking for me. I push Chris's hand away and stuff the papers back into the envelope just as Adam walks in.
"What's going on, Claire?" he asks, but his eyes are on Chris.
I shoot up from the bed with the envelope clutched in my hands. "He was just leaving me some doc.u.ments. He's leaving now."
I push Adam back through the doorway, but his eyes are locked on Chris.
"I'm not leaving until you give me an answer," Chris says, and I can hear his voice behind me getting closer.
Adam resists me as I push him toward the living room. "Stop pushing me. I can control myself. I'm not a f.u.c.king child."
"Yes or no, Claire?" Chris asks.
I look over my shoulder at him and shake my head. "I don't know."
"What is he talking about?" Adam asks.
I want to tell him. If I've learned anything over the past month it's that keeping secrets from the one you love is a recipe for disaster. But I don't want him to judge me if the answer is no. And I don't want to scare him away if the answer is yes.
"I'll tell you later," I say, and he glares at me incredulously.
"Are you f.u.c.king kidding me? After everything that just happened, you're going to give me that s.h.i.t again?"
"Don't talk to her like that," Chris says, and I can hear the threat in his tone.
"Stay out of it, Chris," I warn him.
"You let him talk to you like that?"
"I said stay out of it!"
Adam pushes my hands off his chest. "Keep your secrets. I'm out of here," he says before he storms out of the apartment.
Senia, who's been standing quietly in the kitchen this whole time, creeps toward the front door. "I have to get something from my car," she whispers.
"You deserve better than that, Claire," Chris says as he moves toward me. "You deserve someone who knows you and respects you."
"Adam respects me. You don't know him."