★
V A U G H N
some hours ago:
After the call with the Senator ends, I am left with a pounding headache. I feel like I just imagined the whole conversation. This couldn't be happening.
Why would someone want to kill Claire to hurt me? How is any of this related?
I am a mess of emotions as I check on Claire, tugging the sheets over her body tightly, my hands shaking as I observe her innocence in her deep sleep. She is oblivious to all this and I can't imagine having to tell her that our arrangement is the reason she is in danger.
I caress her cheekbones with my knuckles, feeling numb in my heart. We have gotten closer than I had expected. This feeling is strange; it is killing me.
I jerk my hand from her face as if I have been scalded. Or perhaps it is the thought that I might burn her. Perhaps I already have. I want to keep her safe and that urge — to protect her from every cruel thing in the world instills dread in me, both for myself and her.
Rubbing my face frantically in my nervousness, I get up from the bed, heading out of the room to get some fresh air. I can't even bear looking at her. I feel ashamed due to the fact that I haven't been able to protect her. I haven't been able to protect her from anything.
With my skull pounding and my heartbeats growing erratic in my chest, I start to walk lazily within the mansion, my mind clouded with doubts. I don't know where I am going even as I soak in the eerie silence of my home. Sometimes I just wish I could escape somewhere, away from my past, away from my enemies.
Enemies
How many do I have apart from Michael Hill? Sure, he is my father-in-law and a despicable human being to me but would he go to the extent of hurting his own daughter to get revenge on me?
No. It can't be him. He hates me but not his daughter. They might be distant from each other but I have seen Michael Hill love his kids like anything. He wouldn't go to that extent.
Who might it be then? One of my business rivals?
From what the Senator said, that doesn't seem possible either. The killer seems to have an emotional intention behind hurting me. He wants revenge and it somehow relates to my marriage with Claire.
Her ring. The killer said he despised her ring.
Is it Mason Holiday then? In that case, he should be in prison by now. I would make sure that he never manages to get out.
But Mason had been at the college the day the killer chased Claire in the warehouse. He had been present in the CCTV footage which had been scanned through. There was no sign of a masked man there.
Lost in thoughts, I find myself at the door of Mom's room. I stop there, looking up from my feet to find Mom sitting at the edge of her bed, sobbing silently.
She is dressed for heading to bed yet her door is left open. I lean against the door, watching her as her shoulders shake violently. Upon closer observation, I spot the picture frame she is holding in her hands.
It is of her and Dad on the day of their wedding.
I hitch a breath. The picture where my smiling father stands with his arm around Mom sends a twisted shiver down my gut. Mom has the picture clutched to her chest, her tears unstoppable. I want to reach out, want to comfort her but intruding on her privacy doesn't appear to be a good option.
So, I stand there, watching my mother cry for her lost love. It keeps me rooted in place as I wonder how it feels to her to be left behind.
This is what Micheal Hill did to my family. My mother was the worst victim of his revenge. It might have been an unprecedented event — my father's death — but it tore my Mom to pieces. He was her everything. I grew up watching them fall in love with each other every day, every night, and every time they looked at each other. Rose and I used to cherish that bond between them. To us, they were the perfect example of soulmates.
Then he was gone just like that and she was left shattered.
She collected herself though, as soon as she could. I was left to rebuild my father's empire from scratch. Rose was there for her while I was there for them. We were our own little family, standing strong against every storm that headed our way.
Now, Claire is a part of this family, my family.
Mom's sob grows heavier with every passing second until I am unable to bear watching her that way anymore.
I slowly, silently, shut the door of her room, letting her cry for her lost love without disturbance. She needs it now and then. It gives her solace.
Once her door is safely shut, I swallow the pain that her breakdown rebirthed down my throat. Memories of the past, memories of my father, aren't things I like to dwell in. I have learned to accept my past, accept my mistakes, and accept the burden of secrets that I keep. I cannot, however, accept the thought that Claire is now sharing a part of my curse too.
The love my Mom and Dad had was different, the kind that made them fall every day.
I fall every day too — whenever I see Claire smile, whenever I touch her. I fall for her every laugh, every ditzy decision, and every look she throws my way. I fall in love with her good and her bad. I fall in love with the way she talks, the way she walks, and the way she never sees the bad in anyone. I fall in love with her open nature. I fall in love with the way she falls in love with everything that spreads a smile on her face.
I fall in love wishing that she falls with me too.
But can I have her? Being with me is putting her in danger. Our relationship was supposed to be an arrangement. A psychopath wasn't a part of our story.
I had built up my mind to come clean to her about my feelings. I wanted to confess to her that I wanted her, that I loved her, and that we should make this arrangement permanent. Even if she wasn't in love with me, I would have tried my best to make her fall. We would have been happy. My Mom and sister love her; she fits perfectly with the Jacksons.
She belongs here. She belongs with me.
How can I have her now that I know that I am putting her in danger? If my love, being my wife is the thing that is motivating the killer to go after her, then would it help if she was away?
The senator suggested I do that. He said it would throw the killer off-guard if there was a controversy that made him doubt our relationship. I can't risk her knowing that. The way she is, she would end up making a slip which would spoil my plan and let the killer know that we are only pretending.
We aren't enemies anymore. We never were. We were just two people forced to give up on each other due to circumstances. If it were any other universe, we would have been together by choice and not by chance.
But things have changed now. Her life is in line due to this pretend relationship — a relationship that doesn't seem pretentious even anymore.
I have to protect her from herself, from the man who is after her life, and I think I know just how to do that.
I just hope that when it is all over, she will find it in her heart to forgive me for what I am about to do.
***
Present
I follow her until she gets into one of my cars and the driver drives her out of the gates. Then, I run back to our room and head straight for the bathroom. Rushing to the toilet, I throw up all the alcohol that I forced myself to drink early in the morning to help me with my act. When done, I flush the toilet and sit on the floor, pulling my knees to my chest and rubbing my face with my palms.
She loved me. She said she loved me and I broke her heart.
"Forgive me, Claire..." I whisper to myself the words I want to say to her. "Forgive me...please."
I let you go and I can only hope that you don't come back.
Not before I catch the man who wants to take you away from me.
Whatever you do, Claire, please don't come back.