Chapter 9 - The Choice Claire Made
Claire returned to surgery.
Her first shift lasted fourteen hours.
I pretended not to know exactly when it ended.
At 11:47 p.m., I happened to be sitting in my car outside the hospital.
Victor called.
“You understand stalking is illegal.”
“I’m not stalking.”
“You’re parked across from her employee exit.”
“I’m providing transportation.”
“Did she ask?”
“No.”
“Stalking with leather seats.”
I ended the call.
Claire appeared five minutes later.
She stopped when she saw me.
Then walked to the car.
“You’re ridiculous.”
“Get in.”
“I have a car.”
“At Ashford.”
“Because you insisted your driver bring me this morning.”
“That was efficient.”
She got in.
“You’re controlling.”
“Working on it.”
“Slowly.”
“Still working.”
She smiled.
That smile had become dangerous.
“How was it?”
She looked out the window.
“I saved a nineteen-year-old motorcycle rider.”
“That sounds good.”
“I almost froze when I saw the bullet wound.”
I looked at her.
“But you didn’t.”
“No.”
“Then?”
“I heard Emma’s voice in my head.”
“What did she say?”
“Claire is fixing it.”
Her eyes filled.
“So I fixed it.”
I reached across the console.
She took my hand.
No speech.
No declaration.
Just her fingers in mine.
Sometimes that was bigger.
Ashford changed too.
Ava recovered.
Her limp disappeared after therapy.
She became obsessed with criminal justice and announced she intended to become a prosecutor.
I accused Rachel Kim of corrupting her.
Rachel called it improvement.
Harper began taking self-defense classes and refused bodyguards at school unless they dressed “like normal human beings.”
Victor bought jeans.
Everyone regretted it.
Emma returned to school full-time.
She still had quiet days.
But she spoke.
She laughed.
She argued with her sisters.
She once screamed at me because I cut her sandwich diagonally instead of vertically.
I nearly cried with happiness.
Then pretended I hadn’t.
Samuel remained complicated.
Claire met him for coffee once a week.
Some weeks they talked.
Some weeks they fought.
Some weeks she came home furious.
But she kept going.
One evening, she told me:
“I don’t forgive him yet.”
“You don’t have to.”
“He keeps showing up.”
“That helps.”
“Yes.”
“Annoying?”
“Extremely.”
“Sounds like family.”
She smiled.
Dominic pleaded guilty when several federal cases converged.
Life imprisonment.
No deal.
I visited him once.
Rachel advised against it.
Claire advised against it.
I went anyway.
Dominic sat behind thick glass.
He looked smaller without power.
“You came.”
“Once.”
“To gloat?”
“No.”
“Then why?”
“To understand something.”
He leaned forward.
“What?”
“Why Elena?”
He smiled faintly.
“Because she wasn’t afraid of you.”
That made no sense.
He continued.
“You spent your entire life surrounded by men who told you power required fear.”
“She didn’t.”
“No.”
“She challenged you.”
“Yes.”
“And you listened to her.”
“Sometimes.”
“Enough.”
Dominic leaned closer.
“Elena threatened everything your father built because she made you capable of imagining something else.”
I stared at him.
“So you killed her.”
“I ordered it.”
No remorse.
Nothing.
I hated him more for making the answer so small.
I stood.
“That’s it?”
“You expected a speech?”
“No.”
I looked through the glass.
“I expected you to matter more.”
His smile vanished.
That was the only revenge I needed.
I walked out.
When I returned to Ashford, Claire sat on the front steps.
“You went.”
“Yes.”
“Was it worth it?”
“No.”
“Good.”
I sat beside her.
She leaned her shoulder against mine.
“You know, for an internationally feared man, you’re becoming very boring.”
“I own a logistics company.”
“Terrifying.”
“I have spreadsheets.”
“Stop. I can only handle so much danger.”
I laughed.
Then she grew quiet.
“I found an apartment.”
My smile disappeared.
“Oh.”
“Near the hospital.”
“That makes sense.”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Next month.”
I nodded.
Emma would hate it.
So would I.
Claire looked at me.
“Say something.”
“I’m trying not to control you.”
“That’s admirable.”
“It’s miserable.”
She smiled sadly.
“Adrian.”
“I know.”
“No, I don’t think you do.”
“What?”
“I’m not leaving you.”
I looked at her.
“I’m leaving the job.”
“You haven’t worked as a maid in months.”
“You still introduce me to contractors as ‘Claire from the house.’”
“That’s because explaining our relationship would require knowing what it is.”
“Exactly.”
My heartbeat changed.
Claire continued.
“I don’t want to stay because Emma needs me.”
“Okay.”
“I don’t want you choosing me because I remind you of Elena.”
“I don’t.”
“I know.”
She took my hand.
“I want whatever happens next to happen because we both choose it.”
I looked at her.
“Claire.”
“Yes?”
“I love you.”
Her eyes widened.
Apparently subtlety had left the building.
“You weren’t supposed to say that yet.”
“I’m bad at timing.”
“You’re terrible.”
“Is that a no?”
She leaned in.
“No.”
Then she kissed me.
For the first time in three years, kissing someone did not feel like betraying the dead.
It felt like honoring the fact that I was still alive.
When we separated, Emma’s voice came from the upstairs window.
“FINALLY!”
Claire jumped.
I looked up.
Ava, Harper, and Emma were all watching.
Ava shouted, “We had money on tonight!”
I closed my eyes.
Claire laughed against my shoulder.
My daughters had apparently turned my emotional life into gambling.
May you like
Normal family problems.
I could live with those.
