RICH BOY BRIT (A Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance) (13 page)

Claire offered him a weak smile. “Thank you.”

“Hope your day gets better,” he said, returning the smile.

She staggered from the car towards the door of the house, dreading what her mother and best friend, Amy, would say when she announced the wedding was off. She opened the door, and as she closed it behind her and rested against it, she felt as if the weight of a thousand anchors had descended upon her. Her legs weakened and she collapsed to the floor, her back against the door.

“Claire?” she heard her mother, Willow. “Amy!”

“What is it, Mrs. Callahan?” Amy rushed from the kitchen. Amy and Claire had been best friends since middle school, and she had been helping with the final preparations for the next day. Claire had been there earlier, but she had snuck out to see Trent before the big event.

“Call Trent,” Willow said to Amy as she knelt next to Claire on the floor. “Are you okay, honey?”

“No!” Claire managed to say through tears. “Not him.”

“Why not?” Amy asked, her fingers already dialing Trent’s number.

“Don’t call him,” Claire said as she tried to move, but the weight in her mind was enough to keep her motionless.

Willow and Amy looked at Claire. “Why not? I think he should know that you’re sick,” Amy said.

“I’m not sick and there won’t be a wedding,” Claire responded. “It’s over.”

For a few seconds, no one said a word. Willow got on the floor with her daughter and tried to hug her. “It’s normal to get cold feet. We have talked about this. When I married your dad…”

“I don’t have cold feet, Mom,” Claire said to the woman as she got off the floor, pushing her mother away. “I just saw his cheating ass with another woman.”

“What do you mean you saw his cheating ass with another woman?” Amy asked.

But Claire had risen from the floor and was walking toward the kitchen. Willow got off the floor and followed her daughter. “Talk to us, Claire,” Willow said. “Please.”

Claire ignored them as she walked to the kitchen, but they followed closely. She walked to the fridge for a bottle of cold water and sat on a stool next to the kitchen island. She placed the water against her forehead and rested her hand on the countertop. Her mother and friend sat next to her patiently.

Claire tried to grip the edges of the island, but her fingers slipped and slid over the glassy surface. Her knuckles whitened as she stared at the countertop. In a release of rage, she slammed her palms down on it. The two women jumped when she did, and Willow tried to hold her once more. Claire gently pushed her away.

“I’m okay, Mom.”

“What happened?” her mom asked gently. “You don’t have to say anything right now if you don’t want to…”

“I wanted to surprise him one last time before the wedding,” Claire laughed amidst the tears that had started trickling again. “But there he was, his hands all over some woman.”

“Claire, I’m so sorry,” Amy said. “That’s messed up.”

Claire turned her head to look at her audience as if she just realized they were there.

“My poor baby,” her mom whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

“The two of them have been an item for a long time. The way he looked at her, touched her, kissed her. I could tell this has been going on forever…” her voice cracked, and she started sobbing. “I can tell he’s been sleeping with her.”

“Come here,” Willow said as she put her arms around her daughter, and this time Claire didn’t resist. She led her to the living room and sat next to her on the sofa. Amy stood a few inches away.

“And he tried to tell me…” Claire started but her voice cracked again.

“Sweetheart. It’ll be okay,” Willow said as she pulled her into a hug. Claire’s shoulders rocked as she let out all her hurt and pain on her mother’s shoulder.

Eventually the shaking stopped. Claire rested her head against the velvet sofa. “Why would he do that?” she asked. “Why did he ask me to marry him if he knew he was in love with someone else? What if I hadn’t seen him this evening? Would he have left me at the altar tomorrow?”

“There is no easy answer to that, Claire,” Willow said as she smoothed her hair. “Sometimes people just do stupid things.”

“This was beyond stupid,” she said and got up. “And if anything, I was the fool!”

“No, don’t say that, Claire,” Willow said. “You know that’s not true.”

“Well, he’s the one having sex with some girl in his house, and I’m here crying over him. How does that not make me an idiot?”

“Claire, don’t be too hard on yourself,” Amy said. “You didn’t do anything—”

But Claire cut her off. “I need to be on my own for a while.”

“Yeah, sure,” Willow said quickly, and she and Amy watched Claire climb up the stairs that led to her bedroom.

Once Claire closed the door behind her, she stepped out on the little patio next to the sliding doors in her room. Usually the fresh air calmed her, and she closed her eyes, expecting the same results. When she opened her eyes, she saw nothing ahead of her, and when she closed them, she saw Trent standing in the passageway with her. She started crying again. She returned to her room as she tugged the clothes from her body and ran to the shower. She filled the bathtub with water, having every intention of letting the warmth of it soothe her sorrows. But it did little to quell the storm raging in her, and her tears were lost in the bath water. She finally got out of the tub, lay on her bed, and cried herself to sleep.

She woke hours later; a red light was flashing on her phone indicating she had new messages, but she didn’t want to talk to anyone tonight, or any night for that matter. It was probably Trent anyways, and she was never going to talk to him again.

CHAPTER 2

The wedding day came and went rather uneventfully. Thankfully, it had been a small wedding, so Claire didn’t have much to do except cancel the venue, the caterers, and the flowers, and that in itself had been nerve-wracking. In the days that followed, Claire stayed in her room, hardly paying attention to her mother and Amy. She knew they worried about her, but she was beyond caring. The way she felt, her life was as good as ended.

A few days later, Claire overheard her mom and Amy talking behind her door while she was locked in her room.

“This can’t go on,” Willow said to Amy. “She hardly eats; she looks a mess all the time, and I can’t get to her.”

“What about forcing her to open the door?” Amy asked.

“I’ve tried,” Willow said. “Her door is always locked and she doesn’t answer anyone. If anything happens to her in there, I wouldn’t even know it. I should break the damn door down.”

“Then let’s do it,” Amy said.

“Do what?” Willow asked, but before Claire could hear the response, she heard loud pounding on her door.

“Claire, if you don’t open this door I am going to break it down!” Amy yelled. “And you know I will!”

Claire reluctantly opened the door and Amy walked in. Without a word, she walked to the patio doors, pulled the curtains back, and let some sunlight in. “Okay, this has gone on long enough. I know you are hurting, but this isn’t doing you any good. Get up, take a shower, and let’s go somewhere fun.

Willow smiled sadly at her daughter. “Amy’s right. As bad as this may sound now, Trent has probably moved on while you hide out in your room and rot. I know it’s hard but you need to keep moving forward.”

“I’d rather not,” Claire said, her voice full of sorrow.

“So you want to spend the rest of your days off from work like this?”

Claire looked at her mother with hollow eyes. “What do you suggest I do, Mom? Go out and party like nothing happened?”

“No, that’s not what I’m saying. I’m saying you need to pick up the pieces and get yourself together. This isn’t doing you any good.”

“Wait, I have an idea,” Amy said as her face lit up. “I think you should go to St. Lucia.”

Claire looked at her like she was crazy. “You want me to go on my honeymoon by myself?”

“Yes, except you wouldn’t be by yourself. The three of us could go. St. Lucia is a beautiful place, and it will be good for you to get away.”

“That’s an excellent idea, Amy,” Willow said. “And Claire, you have no excuse. Your reservation is still active. Amy and I will get our own rooms if you want privacy.”

“Mom, I can’t…”

“Claire, this is not up for discussion. Now, pack your bags and get ready. We leave in the morning.” Willow walked out of the room, leaving Claire with no choice.

“I don’t want to go,” Claire said after her mother had gone.

“You heard your mom. You know she’ll make you do it,” Amy said as she sat next to her on the bed. “I promise you’ll love it. Besides, I’ll be there to hang out with you.”

“Yeah, right! You’ll leave all those men on the beach to come hang out with me? Do you think I believe you?”

“Claire, just do as your mom says, please,” Amy said, heading toward the door. “I promise it’ll be fun.”

Long after the two had gone, Claire sat alone in her room, picturing Trent in bed with the other woman, laughing and pretending she didn’t exist. She tossed the covers back, and with anger bubbling inside her, she yanked the suitcase from the closet and started packing. Damn it, she was going to St. Lucia without Trent. Fuck him!

CHAPTER 3

It was an exciting moment for two out of the three passengers in the cab that drove along the interstate to the airport that evening. Claire stared as the outside world raced by, her thoughts doing the opposite, remaining fixated on one event.

“I bet you will love it in St. Lucia,” Willow said as she playfully poked her daughter’s ribs.

“Come on, Claire,” Amy nudged. “Blue skies, white sandy beaches, crystal clear water. That’s got to put a smile on your face.”

Claire looked at the girl with a blank expression. “Perhaps.” It was hard to imagine anything fun when hurt weighed on her like an anchor. Her entire life was drifting by, and as far as she was concerned, she was just floating into oblivion.

The other women temporarily gave up any attempt at lightening Claire’s mood. They reached the airport and wheeled their luggage sets from the car. Luckily, the airport wasn’t crowded. They quickly checked their luggage and joined the other passengers as they waited for boarding.

Claire had the window seat once inside the plane, and she stared endlessly through its crystal partition, taking account of every cloud that passed. Amy had the seat next to her, and Willow had the aisle seat. Willow was busy doing a crossword puzzle, and Amy struggled to find something to watch on the small rectangular monitor in front of her.

“I don’t get it,” Claire said, to no one or to them both.

“That’s how these things operate,” Amy said as she continued pressing the control on her armrest. Then she looked over at Claire and realized she wasn’t looking at the television. “Oh, did you mean something else? What don’t you get?”

“Trent and I have been together for three years. Why would he do this now?”

“Men sometimes do stupid things, Claire. Chalk it up to that. It has nothing to do with you,” Amy told her.

“Yeah, but what if I drove him away? What if he was with that woman because she was sleeping with him?” She had guilt in her eyes, and she looked pleadingly at Amy. “Maybe I shouldn’t have been a prude.”

“That’s nonsense,” Willow intervened. “You did nothing wrong by waiting to marry him before having sex with him, or any other man, for that matter. A good man would have appreciated that.”

“Still, it could have been the reason. Men are more physical than women,” Claire defended. She wanted that to be the reason; nothing else made sense to her.

“If that was the reason, he wouldn’t have waited so long,” Amy told her.

“He wasn’t waiting. He was probably fucking the other woman throughout our relationship. No wonder it didn’t seem to bother him so much, and I respected him for it. Ugh!”

“Enough of this foolish talk, Claire,” Willow interjected. “Trent chose his path, and I am glad you became aware of it before you married him. Trust me, divorce is never easy. You know I went through that with your father. You need to move on. Whatever the reason, it’s already happened and you can’t fix it.”

At that instant, the aircraft dipped a few feet, surprising them and making Claire forget whatever response she had meant to give her mother. They looked at each other with horrified expressions. Some of the other passengers were whispering.

The plane started moving up and down haphazardly. The passengers were talking loudly and beginning to panic. The shaking continued, and some of the passengers began screaming as oxygen masks fell from the overhead compartments.

“What’s happening?” Claire asked as she looked out the window. She could see nothing but blue and white. Her heart hammered in her chest. The blood rushed to her head, and she could feel it flowing inside her as her palms grew clammy. She started hyperventilating. “We’re crashing!”

“Ladies and gentlemen, please make use of the breathing masks in front of you,” the flight attendant called over the microphone.

Claire tried to remember the instructions given before take-off.