A Quartet of Desire

Chapter 33: The Morning After

*Claire's POV*

Dear God, what have I done? I'm sorry I fucked up so bad. Please accept me into heaven today when the people in this shitty house murder me when Ryan goes home this morning. Even though I swore in this prayer and haven't been to church since Easter. Amen.

I didn't know what came over me last night. I gave in to Ryan's requests so easily, even though I knew how angry Tara and her parents would get. Even though I knew without a shadow of a doubt that he didn't really want me.

I wanted him so badly, though. Was that really so wrong? Deep down I knew it was a bad decision to give in. He only pushed to make out last night because he knew it would piss them off, not because he wanted me like I desired him. Ryan seemed to genuinely dislike these people, and I wondered what had transpired between them for him to dislike them so much. There couldn't be that much blood between the McKnights and the Donnellys if Kathy picked me to marry Ryan, but clearly he and them had some issues that our engagement only amplified.

Seriously, what was I thinking last night? Taking my clothes off and grinding on him as his lips locked with mine only strengthened my feelings for this man that I'd never get to keep.

Did I regret it?

Looking up at him through my lashes as our bodies were still pressed together almost entirely naked this morning sent a tornado of butterflies swirling throughout my stomach and heart. I didn't regret a single minute of it.

Though, now that the light of day was starting to stream in through the thin blinds, I did wish my clothes were easier to get to without waking him up. Due to the nature of my bed, I was pressed mostly on top of him and shifting would only cause him to wake up. I could feel one arm wrapped across my shoulders, while his other arm held me tightly around the waist.

God, it felt so good to be held by him like this.

If this was going to be my last day on earth, at least I had this moment before he woke up to take with me to the grave. When Karen told me last night that they knew how to end the engagement, I knew there was only one of two things they could do: stage a cheating scandal or kill me. The first would take far too much effort than what they were willing to put into me; whereas, plotting my death could be easily covered to look like an accident and give Tara the easiest way to wriggle into Ryan's arms.

But for this morning, this moment, he was mine.

Pretending that he wanted me only made things harder, but it was a lie I was willing to tell myself to justify why it was worth going through all I did with Tara. I bit my lip to keep myself from releasing the tears that had begun to pool. It drove me nuts how emotional I was, and I hated Ryan seeing me cry so often. Of course, he was a hardened mafia man – how could a crybaby like me even begin to measure up to him?

Couldn't I be emotional today though? I wasn't ready to die; I was only twenty-six. I hadn't done anything worthwhile in my life, other than the poetry I wrote. Did that really matter, though? Who would see it when I was gone? These people would simply pack everything I owned into a handful of trash bags, and it would all end up in a landfill.

"Did I push you to go too far last night?" Ryan's soft voice interrupted my thoughts.

Whipping my head up to look at his face, I wondered how long he had been awake. The embarrassment of being caught in my thoughts heated my cheeks slightly. "No," I whispered back. "I...I'm glad we did all...that."

The arm that had been draped across my shoulders left me, letting the cold morning air take over from the warmth he had provided moments ago. He cupped my chin and raised it slightly higher and craned his head up to meet my face. Ryan's lips connected briefly with my own in a tender, closed mouth kiss. "You look really upset, Claire."