Truth, стр. 61
Claire knew she’d had the rare opportunity, as Catherine so eloquently told her once. She pushed forward, “The real you. Would that be Anton?” His expression morphed. Sadness fell like shadows over his face. The despair reached into her chest, physical ache came at seeing his expression.
He exhaled, “I suppose, yes, but not anymore. I had it legally changed. So, you see, I didn’t lie. My legal name is Anthony Rawlings, and it has been for a long time.”
Claire stood. She wouldn’t allow herself to feel pity. Instead she did what people do when trying to avoid their true emotions; she lashed out, “You share this with me now, but not when we’re married. That tells me that you never trusted me, the only person to really know you.” The last clause emphasized. “Plus, you threw me away and left me to rot in prison.” She exhaled in exasperation, “You say you love or loved me, past or present. You don’t know what love is. You have an obsession and it really needs to stop. Stop watching me. Stop having me watched. Your fun is done. It’s over.”
He returned his gaze to the red liquid, slowly swirling it within the confines of the crystal globe. His words weren’t rushed, instead a slow release, divulging hidden truths that only recently he’d come to know, “I don’t know how to explain it. It was a loop hole. Don’t you understand?”
Claire stood motionless; she didn’t understand.
“I tried to help you.” His eyes stared with need. “Anyone else would have jumped at the insanity plea. I had a hospital all set; your commitment time would’ve been negotiable. But no.” He stood once again, “No! You refused! By doing that, you took your sentence away from me and gave it to the state of Iowa. I no longer had influence over your release.” He turned to face her and his volume increased, “Why did you have to be so damn obstinate?”
“Me? You’re accusing me of being obstinate? I didn’t want you in control of my life any longer. I was willing to let the state of Iowa decide, rather than you.”
Tony looked perplexed, “It was the only way to save you.”
Claire tried to comprehend his words, “I have no idea what you’re saying. Save me, from what?”
Tony looked down, his tired eyes suddenly dark and gloomy and his voice flat with restrained emotion, “Me.”
The temperature of the room dropped. Claire felt the goose bumps materialize on her arms and legs as she instinctively wrapped her arms around herself. Slowly she sunk into the chair to Tony’s left. The silence stretched between them, little by little filling each available molecule in the suite. The intensity of the quiet, made the air difficult to breathe. Claire tried diligently to fill her lungs with oxygen. She wasn’t sure what he meant, but somehow the confession seemed monumental.
The sound of her vibrating telephone shattered the silence. She jumped as the small devise danced ringlessly across the table before them. The screen flashed: HARRY CELL. She saw Tony’s eyes read the name before he turned away.
His question sounded strangely distant, “Are the news stories accurate?”
“You should know the accuracy of news reports.” She replied as the phone continued to vibrate.
“Perhaps I should answer it?” Tony offered. His voice now clipped. The spell that encased the suite and isolated them from the rest of the world was broken. She wouldn’t learn anymore about his attempt to save her this evening.
“No, thank you. I’ll be just a minute.” Claire reached for the iPhone, stood, walked into the bedroom, and accepted the call. “Hi.” Although she was trying for light and carefree, she feared she failed miserably. Her mind was still reeling from Tony’s declaration.
When we were children, we used to think that when we grew up we would no longer be vulnerable. But to grow up is to accept vulnerability; to be alive is to be vulnerable. —Madeleine L'Engle
Chapter 24
Harry’s tone brought light back to Claire’s dark suite. “How did your meeting with Meredith go?”
The insinuation of dread no longer lurked in corners and unknown hiding places; radiance flowed with the promise of better things. She absorbed the positive energy, closed the door between the bedroom and living room, and answered. “I think it went well. Mostly, we just reconnected.”
“That’s probably a good first step.” He paused, “I miss you. I still think I should be there.”
Claire exhaled, knowing he deserved honesty. Her voice was hushed, “I have a surprise visitor.”
She heard the change in his countenance. His voice suddenly tensed as his words came too fast, “Is he still there? Are you all right?”
“Yes and yes.”
“I’ll get a SiJo jet and be there in an hour and a half.”
“That isn’t necessary,” she continued to keep her voice low, “although, I would love to see you. But seriously, you need to work tomorrow; I’m fine. I’ll call when he leaves.”
“He isn’t the only one who can jump on a plane to see you.”
Claire shook her head. “You know, I never wanted to be someone people jump on planes to see.”
“I’ll be waiting for your call. If you change your mind and want me there sooner call, text, or send smoke signals.” His attempt at levity made her smile; he continued, “I’ll be there.”
The grin traveled through the phone, “Thanks, I will, I promise.”
“I like hearing that smile. Just remember... it’s for me.”
“How can I forget?” she asked. “I’ll call soon.”
“I hope so. I’ll be waiting. Bye.”
“Bye, soon I promise.” She disconnected the line.
Claire saw her phone, now solely used for Courtney, flashing on the dresser. She checked the screen, one text message, and hit the button: BRENT JUST CALLED. TONY’S MAKING AN UNSCHEDULED TRIP TO SAN DIEGO. YOU AREN’T THERE, ARE YOU? JUST WONDERING... THOUGHT YOU SHOULD KNOW. Claire smiled, fortified by the support of others.
Hesitantly, she approached the door to the living room. Her hand seized the handle; the cool metal calmed her nerves. She took a deep breath and pulled it open.
She half-expected to find Tony standing directly on the other side of the closed barrier. Opening the door and stepping through the threshold, she saw him standing again at the windows, holding his wine, and looking at the nocturnal vista. Claire wondered if he’d heard her open the door. If he did, he didn’t turn around. Slowly, she approached and joined him at the window.
“I apologize for the interruption.” She said, looking at the lights below.
He turned toward her, looking down from above. “Do you now, Ms. Nichols?”
Claire noted the change in his tone, more businesslike. “I do.” Perceiving the meaning of her last name, she confirmed, “You’re correct, I am Ms. Nichols, not Mrs. Rawlings.” She considered adding, “your doing, not mine.” However, she didn’t; she’d baited him enough.
Momentarily Tony stood, facing her, close enough to touch, yet, a million miles apart. Making no attempt to lessen the expanse, he replied, “I’m sure you are busy. If I were him, I’d be on a jet right now. According to my calculations, that gives us about ninety minutes to discuss what I came to discuss.”
Claire considered enlightening Tony on the difference between the two of them, explaining Harry wouldn’t be arriving because she asked him not to. She could talk about trust and communication. Instead she walked toward the sitting area, refilled her glass, sat down compliantly, and asked, “What do you want to discuss?”
“You will discontinue your discussions with Meredith Banks and any further plans you’ve entertained regarding speaking with the media.” It was a very poorly worded plea, sounding more like a mandate.
She sat back against the chair and smiled, “Will I now?”