through it all, there was you ↠ conrad fisher {2} (on pause)

n i n e

Conrad's point of view:
.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

There was a time when I was 10 and Claire was 9. I was teaching her how to ride a bike, because her shithead of parents had never taught her. We had been spending the last week working her up to doing this. I learned the first week of knowing Claire she needs a step by step into doing something. She how to's, examples, a lot of reassurance, and a fuck ton of bribery.

I remember the first time she fell, I let go of the bike to try and to prove she had it by herself. I was incredibly wrong because she fell right over and scraped her knee. It wasn't bleeding, just a little gray dust that coded her knee from her falling on the concrete.

That was the last time I had seen betrayal and disappointment in her eyes as she looked at me and vowed to never be the reason she made that face again — until last night. I promised her I'd teach her to surf with us the next time we went out if she got back up and tried again. When that didn't work I promised to win her a stuffed animal next time we went to the boardwalk. She finally agreed cautiously. She took my hand and let me pull her up and try again. But, she didn't trust me enough to not let go again, so It took us an entire week to get her to feel confident enough to ride without me holding onto her.

I don't know if it was the feeling I got in my chest, how proud I was of her. The joy I felt knowing I was the one who stuck by her, I was the one to teach her something and help her do something like ride a bike. Maybe it was just the way she smiled, the pure happiness that was shown in her eyes – but I cannot stop thinking about it right now.

I'm sitting here looking out into the ocean, knowing I have to break up with my girlfriend for her sake and I can't stop thinking about when I taught her how to ride a bike.

My thoughts were interrupted by Claire herself walking into my backyard from the beach. I scan her body, she's wearing the same thing from yesterday. Her hair is in a loose braid, but I can see the sand coding the back of her head when she turns around to lock the latch on the gate.

I swollow the lump that has formed in my throat becyase all of the emotions that came rushing back with that memory, seeing her here right now — I can't fucking do it. I can't let her go. I can't. This is my Claire. The thought of her with anyone else makes me want to actually shoot myself in the head with a nail gun, repeatedly.

"Have you been out there all night?" I say before I have a chance to process my thoughts.

She looks up, startled. "Conrad," she gasp holding her hand over her heart. "Jesus Christ, you just scared me. Holy shit," she says falling herself. "Yes I fell asleep a few streets down on the beach."

"Why didn't you come home?" I ask, and it comes out breathy because I realized what I said as I was saying it and the sentence basically faded off my tounge.

"Where is home?" She says in monotone, and my stomach recoils. I clearly my throat, realizing I did do it — I really lost her. I blink back the tears, thankfully she is avoiding looking at my face. "I need you to drive me to my car. I couldn't find it last night, I can tell you what street I think it's on." She says brushing past me into the house.

I let out a breathe I didn't know I was holding. I place a shaky hand on my chest, feeling my heartbeat. I close my eyes focusing on my breathing, trying to push down the feelings of anxiety that was trying to break free. I need to talk to her. I need her to understand I will do better this time. I promise I would do anything just to get her to fucking smile at me again.

I compose myself, and with a heavy heart make my way inside. When I get in there Claire is standing by the outlet with her phone charging. So she didn't stop sharing her location.

"Claire," I say clearing my voice. "Can you stay? We can go get breakfast or something."

She sighs, closing her eyes. She places her phone on her chest and looks at me with sad eyes. "Why?" She asks and the question catches me off guard.

"Because I miss you, and I want to talk to you."

She scoffs. "Oh?" She questions. "You miss me and you want to talk, huh?" Uh oh. "Isn't it convent that when you want to miss me and talk to me when I'm standing here but where the fuck were you when I was missing you and wanted to talk for the last three fucking months Conrad?!" She pauses and takes a step back. "I'm not doing this with you anymore. I can't keep doing this. I can't be in a relationship that is only convenient for when you want to pay attention to me. I deserve to be loved and worshiped. Not ignored and used when they're ready. That isn't love, Conrad."

She is crying and I can't even step forward to hug her because she's right. She's absolutely fucking right. She deserves all of that and more. "Take my car." I say holding out my keys. "Take my car and I will ride my bike to find yours." I have no idea how I'm holding my voice steady right now because I'm breaking inside.

She inhaled a sharp breathe, "you're right." I let her know because I know she thinks I'm ignoring her, I'm not anymore. I hear her, I understand. I'm owning it. "You deserve better then what I've been giving you. I'm going to need to earn your trust again. I'm sorry it's gotten to this but right now I need to focus on saving my Moms house. I lost you, rightfully so, but I can't lose the last piece I have of her."

It wasn't fair bringing my Mom into this. I saw her physically flinch when I said that. She deserves better. She always did.

She nods, taking the keys from me. I turn my head away, not being able to watch her leave. I can't believe this is happening.

I.

Can't.

Breathe.