Don't Touch Her Act 2: Finding Peace

Chapter Seventy-Eight

𝓥𝓲𝓸𝓵𝓮𝓽

We stopped to get ice cream on the way home. Dominic wouldn't take my money, so I offered to pay for the cones.

Clara took a seat towards the back of the Dairy Queen, windows all along both sides.

I'd bought a sundae, hot fudge dripping along the edge into a chocolate puddle at the bottom.

I put a spoonful in my mouth.

Pomegranate was still my favorite, I concluded.

"Paris will be nice," Clara said, fiddling with her spoon in an almost nervous manner. I looked around. There were two large men at the counter.

"Let's go outside," I said.

She didn't say anything as we walked out the doors onto the bright red tables, an awning overhead that was just as red.

"It'll be just as cold as it is here."

"Oh," another spoonful. "I thought it would have been summer there," Clara said.

"It'll turn spring soon." A whole month. He'll be gone a whole month.

Clara looked down and cleared her throat after a moment, "I got a message from Maverick."

I bristled at his name. "What did he say?"

"Dat- Just hang out... Maybe a park," she shrugged. "I haven't given a definite answer."

I nodded, trying to see if Clara would give anything away. Was she happy with this? Or was she afraid of the fact that some man had clearly taken an interest in her... and who knows what could potentially happen.

I didn't trust Maverick.

Clara's face remained emotionless. "Will you?" I asked.

She tilted her head, staring down at her ice cream cup, "I don't know... Last time, that was just a big misunderstanding, Violet. My car broke down."

She looked up at me and licked her lips, "I don't think you realize how badly I want what you and Dominic have. You trust him... and feel safe with someone. I'm not saying having a relationship with someone... though that scares me... is going to solve all my problems, I'm not saying that."

She took a deep breath, "I just want to feel safe, truly safe. An-And someone to help me." Her voice started to break. She looked down, shoveling nervous spoonfuls in her mouth.

I watched her and put my hand on her arm. She stopped.

I never thought about it, and I didn't know how easy or hard it might be to talk about our past with someone, but maybe, maybe it would help - even if it was only a little bit.

"Maybe... Maybe we should try therapy, Clara."