[ - ]
Table of Contents [Report This]
Printer Chapter or Story Microsoft Word Chapter or Story
- Text Size +
Chapter 88


AN: Thanks to Jen for her encouragement on this one! ;)


Nick swung his Jaguar into a parking space in the lot outside Claire’s apartment complex and killed the engine. The radio instantly cut off, filling the car with an awkward silence. In the front seat, Nick and Claire exchanged glances. What now? Nick wondered, and she seemed to be thinking the same thing. Should he walk her up to her apartment, maybe stay and hang out a while? Or was that no longer appropriate? Maybe she was just expecting him to drop her off and leave?

Nick sighed inwardly in frustration. This day had gone surprisingly well up until then – they had talked and joked around together, just like old times, acting as if their broken engagement had never happened. But now, even though neither of them had brought it up, it seemed to have wedged itself between their seats, making the car seem cramped and stuffy. Nick could feel it, and he was sure Claire could too, seeing as how she wasn’t moving or speaking either. Why did this have to be so difficult? Why had she made it so difficult?

A soft click broke the silence as Claire finally unbuckled her seatbelt, and Nick thought he had his answer. She was going to turn and thank him for the ride and lunch, then reach for the door handle and climb out of his car. She’d wave goodbye, then walk into her building without a backwards glance, and that would be it. He probably wouldn’t see her the rest of the week, and he’d fly back to LA and stay until he found another excuse to come home to see her.

But Claire surprised him. Instead, she turned and asked, “You wanna come and see my new ‘crib’?” She made quotation marks with her fingers, offering him a playful smirk.

Nick smiled, relieved to feel the tension melting away again. “Yeah, sure,” he replied. “In fact, I was just gonna offer to walk you up… I don’t want you to trip on the stairs or anything; I mean, your depth perception’s probably funky with that patch covering your eye, right?”

Claire giggled. “How thoughtful of you,” she said, giving him a friendly punch in the shoulder. “Come on then, let’s go up.” She reached for the door handle while Nick swiped his keys from the ignition and unfastened his own seatbelt. He came around to meet Claire, and together, they crossed the lot to her building.

“What floor you on?” asked Nick as they walked inside.

“Three.”

“Ah… movin’ on up in the world, huh?” Nick teased. Her last apartment had been on the second floor.

She snorted. “That’s one way to put it. I guess there is a better view from the third floor… but that means one more flight of stairs to climb.” She made a face at the staircase. “There is an elevator… but I’ve been warned not to use it. Apparently it’s old and shitty and gets stuck a lot.”

Nick eyed the single elevator in the corner of the small lobby area and shook his head. “Well, that’s nice. How considerate of your landlord to make this place so handicapped accessible,” he remarked with heavy sarcasm.

“Yeah, for real,” snorted Claire. Then, all of a sudden, she cast him an anxious look and bit her lip. “Ohh… are you gonna be okay, going up two flights of stairs?”

Nick smiled. “You underestimate me, Ren. I’ve gotten a lot better, you know,” he boasted and hooked his arm around her unbroken one. “Come on.”

Claire smiled back, and up the stairs they went, slowly because her depth perception was indeed a little off, and he… well, he always had to take stairs slow these days. Even so, he was out of breath by the time they reached the third floor. But then again, she was panting a little too.

“Once this arm heals, I gotta start working out more,” she laughed breathily as they walked down the hallway. “Amber and I were going to start taking aerobics or something after the baby was born, but that hasn’t happened yet. Hell, not that I blame her – if it were me, I’d be taking full advantage of an excuse to get all fat ‘n’ sassy for awhile. I’m sure the extra weight will come off eventually, once Kamden’s mobile and she has to start chasing him everywhere.”

Nick smiled at the fondness in her voice as she spoke about her nephew; it reminded of the way he felt about his godson. Suddenly thinking of Baylee, he opened his mouth to tell her the latest cute Baylee story from the past week – Leighanne was always bringing him by the studio to see Brian when they were working, so they’d racked up quite a few cute Baylee stories – when Claire added, “You’re still working out though, aren’t you?” She touched his bicep and smiled. “I can tell. You look great, Nick.”

The way she said it was sincere, not flirtatiously fake, in the way someone like Leah might have said it. He smiled and flexed exaggeratedly, striking a muscleman pose. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” she shrugged. “I mean it.”

She stopped outside a closed door near the end of the hall, number 306. Balancing her purse on her splinted arm, she dug through it until she found her keys and then crammed them into the lock. “Here we are,” she said as she opened the door and ushered Nick in. “My new home.”

Nick looked around as he entered the apartment. It had a beachy feel, decorated in soft shades of green, teal, and coral, with beige carpeting and blonde wood cabinetry that matched Claire’s old kitchen table. He was struck by its smallness, but at least it was clean and fairly new. “It’s nice,” he commented, running a hand absently over one of the smooth countertops.

“Thanks. I like it,” she replied with another shrug, not meeting his eye. Quickly changing the subject, she asked, “Want anything to drink?” as she flung open her refrigerator.

“Whatcha got?” Nick peered in over her shoulder and frowned at the sparse selection. The only beverage he saw was a near-empty half-gallon of milk. “Not much, huh?” he answered his own question with a chuckle.

She grimaced. “Sorry. I haven’t really been grocery shopping.”

“Well, how can you, with a busted arm and no wheels? How come no one’s taken you? You should have mentioned it earlier; we could have stopped at the store on the way back here.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. I think Kyle and I are going to run some errands together over the weekend. He calls just about every day to check up on me.”

“That’s good,” said Nick, nodding slowly, secretly glad she hadn’t mentioned that prick Jamie. He wanted Claire to be taken care of… but not by him.

“I think I have some juice concentrate in the freezer. If you’ll help me get the can open, I’ll make that,” said Claire with a sheepish smile, closing the fridge and opening the freezer instead. “This whole one-handed business kinda sucks.”

Nick laughed. “Sure thing,” he agreed, taking the frozen can of raspberry lemonade she handed him and opening it. He dumped the concentrate into the pitcher she handed him and filled it with water, stirring it around until the frozen part had dissolved, staining the water dark pink. Claire set two glasses of ice on the counter next to him, and he poured. They took the drinks into the small living room and sat down on Claire’s slip-covered, sagging couch.

“So how are you feeling?” Nick asked her. “No funky side effects from this morning?”

Claire shook her head. “No, I feel fine. Tired, from not sleeping last night, but that’s all.”

“You want me to turn on the TV or anything?” Nick asked, gesturing to the black screen of Claire’s television.

She made a face. “Nah… I have to keep this patch on for twenty-four hours, and my other eye’s still shit, remember? Watching TV isn’t much fun lately; everything’s all blurry.”

“Aw… I’m sorry,” Nick apologized with a frown, regretting the suggestion. He should have known better.

But Claire just smiled. “It’s okay. By tomorrow, it should be a lot better. I can live without TV. Let’s just talk.” She turned so that she was facing him and scooted back to prop herself against one of the arms of the couch. Pulling her legs up with her, she hugged her knees to her chest and rested her chin upon them, looking at him expectantly.

Nick swallowed and forced himself to smile. Okay, talking was good… but so awkward, once they got past the small talk bit, which they’d already done. It wasn’t as easy to just talk to her now, not when he alternated between imagining his arms around her, his lips on hers, and remembering the note she’d left on his stairs. I think we need to take a break…, she’d written. I’m not coming back…

Even now, though he’d tried to accept it and move on, it still stung. And as much as he wanted to be around her, it was painful. It hurt to sit with her on the couch like this, so close, yet so far. He couldn’t touch her… he couldn’t hold her… he couldn’t kiss her. It wouldn’t be right. He didn’t want it to be so, but they were over.

Did she hurt like this too? he wondered. Was there a part of her that regretted leaving him? Or was she really 100% comfortable going back to a solely platonic relationship? How could she be?? Their relationship hadn’t been platonic for years, not since she’d whispered that she thought she was falling in love with him, the day before she went into isolation for her transplant. At the time, he’d been surprised, confused, and guilty, because he didn’t share her feelings. But eventually, he fell for her too. And to this day, he’d never stopped loving her, wanting to be with her.

But for some reason, she had. And he still couldn’t put his finger on exactly why or how. Sure, she’d cited her reasons, but it just didn’t make sense to him. She said she still loved him, but she didn’t want to be with him. Yet she didn’t mind him being here, just talking to her.

“You’re not talking,” Claire said, her voice teasing, a playful smile etched across her face. The expression faded when he did not smile back. “You’re frowning. What’s wrong?”

He looked away, staring down at his hands, which were resting in his lap. He twisted them together with uncertainty and finally planted them firmly on the tops of thighs with a sigh. “What are we doing, Claire? I mean, you and me… this situation we got going on here… can you honestly sit there and tell me you’re totally okay with it?”

Claire gave him an anguished look. “This is weird, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Nick answered flatly. “It is.”

“We were okay earlier though… weren’t we? At Leonardi’s… everything seemed almost like normal.”

“What’s ‘normal,’ Claire?” Nick came back at her quickly. “For almost a year, ‘normal’ for us meant being together, in love.”

“But before that, for longer than a year, we were just friends… and that was normal. I wish we could be like that again.”

Nick rolled his eyes. “What is it with you and always wanting things to go back to the way they were? Is that why you put up with that jackass Jamie, cause you secretly wish you could be like you were with him again? Things change, Claire; people change; feelings change. I don’t want us to go back to the way we used to be, because I still love you!”

The words rang out louder than he’d expected, seeming to echo through the otherwise silent apartment. For a few seconds, Nick forgot to breathe.


No matter how I fight it, can’t deny it
Just can’t let you go

I still need you
I still care about you
Though everything’s been said and done
I still feel you
Like I’m right beside you
But still no word from you

***

Now look at me
Instead of movin’ on, I refuse to see
That I keep comin’ back
Yeah, I’m stuck in a moment
That wasn’t meant to last…


At Nick’s confession, Claire looked away, not wanting him to see the indecision in her eyes. He was so right… how could she expect them to go back to being friends, after they’d been lovers? And the truth was, she did often want things to go back to the way they were, to better, happier times. But who didn’t? Was it so wrong?

“… I still love you too, Nick,” she replied softly, after a long pause. “I told you, I always will. But… but you’re right. Things do change. I changed my mind about what I wanted… and I’m not ready to change it again. I said I wanted a break, and I meant it. I’m sorry.” She looked down at her hands; she could feel them trembling ever so slightly. She stared at them, not ready to look up and see his face.

“Well, answer me this then,” Nick said stonily; his voice was calm, but she could hear the frustration and hurt in it. “Do you think…” He paused, and she glanced up to see him lick his lips before trying again. “… Is there a chance… that we’ll ever get back together? I mean, when you said we’re over… did you mean forever? Or…?”

Now Claire did raise her eye to meet his. “There’s always a chance,” she spoke with conviction, leaning towards him slightly. “Anything can happen, Nick; I don’t know. Sure there’s a chance, but… don’t wait for me, okay? You should get back out there and meet new people, date again. I want you to be happy. And if you’re meant to be happy with me, and me with you… then I think it will work out. If not… it won’t. But either way, can’t we still be friends?”

As she gave him a pleading look, she realized how like Jamie she sounded. He’d told her the same kind of things the summer before they parted ways for college. “I know you believe in fate,” he’d told her gently, as she sat across from him, his face blurring before her tear-filled eyes. “Well, so do I. It’s time to test our fate. This doesn’t have to be the end. If we’re meant to be together, fate will bring us back together, when the time is right.”

Ironically, that was the day Claire, eighteen and heartbroken, stopped believing in fate.

Only Nick had made her believe again… and even now, she still believed fate had brought them together… as friends, if nothing more. He had come into her life at one of its lowest points, the relapse of her leukemia, and helped her through. She, in turn, had helped him through the lowest point in his life. The bond they had was unique and special, one that she shared with no one else. Casey was the only other person she’d befriended who could truly understand, firsthand, the kind of experiences and feelings she’d had. But for all his maturity, Casey was only a child. And now he was gone. She didn’t want Nick to go too… in any way. She still needed him; she still cared about him, though everything had been said and done.

“Nick?” she asked again hesitantly, waiting for his response.


I’ve tried to fight it, can’t deny it
You don’t even know

That I still need you
I still care about you
Though everything’s been said and done
I still feel you
Like I’m right beside you
But still no word from you

***

Nick had just opened his mouth to reply when there was a loud knock at the door. He hesitated, startled, and closed his mouth. He and Claire exchanged glances, and for a moment, neither of them moved. Then the knocking sounded again, even louder this time, and Claire groaned.

“I better see who it is,” she mumbled, sliding off the couch. “Just a minute.”

He watched her walk away, padding through the kitchen to the door. The refrigerator blocked his view as she reached to open the door, but he heard her say, “Oh… hi!”

Curious, he leaned forward on the couch, but he still could not see who was there. It was only as he started to rise that he heard the sickeningly familiar male voice reply, “Hey you. How you doing?”

“Um… fine! Fine… Yeah, the surgery went well,” Claire replied rather shrilly; Nick could tell she was flustered. She took a step backwards, coming back into his eye line, and glanced over her shoulder, catching his eye. He narrowed his eyes at her, balling his hands into fists, just as Jamie set foot inside the apartment.

It was unbelievable. Did this guy have some kind of sixth sense for always detecting the worst moments during which to interfere? It was as if he was always there, calling or showing up to rock the boat whenever Nick and Claire were already in stormy waters. Kick him the fuck out, he urged Claire silently. We were having a conversation, damn it.

“What are you doing here at this time of day?” Claire asked Jamie. “I wasn’t expecting you for at least another few hours; I thought you had to work.”

“Lunch break,” Jamie replied with that sickening smirk of his, the kind that made Nick want to mangle his face so bad he’d never be able to smile again… and if he could, once they fused his jaw back together, he wouldn’t want to because of the lack of teeth. “I’ve got till one, so I thought I’d swing by and see how you were doing. I was hoping you’d be done by now. I picked us up some sandwiches, see,” he said, holding up a white paper bag sporting the logo of a popular Italian joint.

Nick clenched his jaw just as much as his fists and flexed his punching arm. God, he couldn’t take this today… especially now. He really couldn’t…

“Oh, thanks, Jamie, that’s really sweet of you…” Claire said. Casting another look in Nick’s direction, she added, “But… now’s not really a good time…”

For the first time, Jamie turned his head to follow Claire’s gaze and noticed Nick standing there in the living room. His eyes widened momentarily, but he hid his surprise pretty well. “Oh,” he said. “I didn’t know you had company.” He gave Nick the visual once over, scrutinizing him through his ice-blue eyes. Nick stared back, his gaze just as cold. “You didn’t tell me Nick was back in town.”

“Yeah… he took me to my appointment this morning,” replied Claire.

Nick smiled in satisfaction as Jamie’s eyes seemed to ice over even further. “Oh… I thought you said your mom was going to take you.”

“She was. Nick here called last night to let me know he was in town and offered to take me. This way, Mom didn’t have to drive all the way down.”

Jamie frowned. “If you didn’t want your mom to drive down, you could have asked me. I could have asked for the day off.”

“Don’t be silly, Jamie; you just started a new job. You can’t be asking for days off already,” Claire said reasonably, flashing him a pleasant smile. A few feet away, Nick smiled too – and he made sure that Jamie saw it.

Jamie’s frown twisted into a scowl. “Good point, Claire,” he replied loudly. “I almost forgot – Carter here doesn’t have to bother with petty matters like a boss and a nine to five, Monday to Friday work week.” Jamie’s voice was dripping with sarcasm as he went on, “He just gets to sing and dance for a living!” He wiggled his hands around in the air, doing a flamboyant “jazz hands” motion, and stretched his mouth into a wide, cheesy grin. “Must be nice.”

“Shut up, Jamie,” Claire snapped and looked to Nick, who was already starting towards Jamie, his jaw set. “Nick-“

But Nick ignored her, sidling past her to get to Jamie. Jamie held up his hands in cautious defense, but Nick thrust them aside and grabbed the shorter man by the shirt collar, throwing him up against the door so that it slammed shut. Nick stumbled with the momentum, nearly falling into Jamie. Momentarily thrown off, he nevertheless regained his balance quickly and returned his steely glare to Jamie’s face. Jamie, though pinned to the door, looked only minorly phased. He gazed back at Nick smugly, as if to say, I dare you to hit me in front of Claire.

That just made Nick want to hit him more.

But Claire was tugging on his elbow with her one good hand now, urging him back. “Nick! Nick!” she shouted, “What the hell are you doing? Let him go!”

“It must suck to be so fucking jealous of me,” Nick spat, throwing Jamie’s words back into his face. “I’ll tell you, it is nice to make a career out of doing what I love. I wish you could do the same, but I guess you can’t make a career out of being a prick, can you? That’s your problem though, buddy, not mine. Just like your guilt over the way you’ve treated Claire – that’s your demon to face; don’t try to fucking peg it on me. You abandoned her way before I even knew her; you let her go. Now you need to let go, man.”

“You should talk!” hissed Jamie. “Claire left you. You need to let go… of her and of me!” On the last word, he gave Nick a forceful shove, sending him backpedaling. He felt the heel of his prosthesis catch the floor right as he stumbled, and he fell helplessly backwards, sure that he was going to crack his head on Claire’s kitchen counter on the way down.

He heard her shriek just as he fell against something… soft?

Claire groaned beneath his weight and squeezed out between Nick and the counter as soon as he’d regained his balance. “Fuck,” she moaned painfully, running her hand over her cast.

Nick turned to look at her, his eyes widening as he realized what had just happened. “Are you okay??” he demanded fearfully, realizing she’d basically just caught him from falling into the counter, using her own body as a cushion.

Jamie rushed forward to her other side. “Did he fall into your arm??”

“You mean did you push me into her arm?” Nick corrected him with a venomous glare, feeling his face heat up with a mix of anger and embarrassment. He was pissed as hell, just as much at himself as at Jamie, for not being able to withstand the force of a simple shove. It was the second time Jamie had gotten the better of him, and he cursed the fact that a few years ago, he could have kicked his ass, no doubt about it. He was bigger, after all. The leg issue, though, caused a slight disadvantage that he quite resented.

“Don’t forget you shoved me against the door first, asswipe… it wasn’t a hard push anyway; I was just trying to get away,” Jamie muttered, his voice growing lower with each word. It sounded like he was trying to convince himself of this more than Nick.

“Will you two STOP IT?!” Claire screamed, causing both men to return their attention to her. She was still cradling her broken arm, but her face was livid, two bright splotches of red appearing high on her cheeks.

“Listen, I’m so sorry, Claire; are you okay?” Nick asked again, reaching out to her, but she let go of her cast just long enough to smack his hand away.

“I’m fine,” she snipped. “But if you two are going to fight, get the fuck out of my kitchen; I don’t want to see it!”

Jamie turned to Nick and held out his arms. “You wanna take this to the parking lot, Backstreet?” he asked invitingly, his voice snide and sarcastic. “I don’t think you’ll get very far, but if you wanna try and take me, I’ll play along.”

But to Nick’s delight, before Jamie could do anything, Claire grabbed him by the shirt with her good hand, spun him towards her, and slapped him across the face. “Get out of here, Jamie, and leave him alone!”

“But-“

“No! Go! I don’t wanna talk to you anymore today!” Claire shouted, not giving him a chance to protest, and strode over to the door. In a flash, she’d opened it and nudged Jamie out. “Goodbye,” she said none-too-kindly and slammed the door.

“Nice,” Nick complimented her with a gleeful grin.

But Claire immediately rounded on him. “And you! You started this! What the hell were you thinking?! You feel the need to have a fistfight in the middle of my kitchen, like a grade school bully on the playground? Grow up, Nick!”

“Hey, I didn’t say a damn thing to him; he’s the one who started dissing me the minute he saw me,” Nick retorted angrily.

“Oh, like you’ve never gotten dissed by a guy before for being a Backstreet Boy? Puh-lease. If that affects you so much, you need to learn some self-control,” she growled in annoyance. Turning on her heel, she stalked back into the living rooms and went to the window, flipping up one of the slats on her mini-blinds. Nick watched in confusion, afraid to follow her. She was pissed. “He’s gone,” she said after a moment, and he realized she was watching the parking lot.

“Good,” replied Nick with a relieved smile. “So-“

“So now you can go too,” Claire interrupted sharply. “I mean it, Nick; leave. I’ve had enough of both of you today. I’m gonna go lie down.”

Nick knew not to push her and reluctantly nodded. “Alright. Look, I’m sorry… for almost having a fight in your apartment. God, it felt good though; I’m not gonna deny it.”

Claire rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I know you’ve been wanting to take him down for months. Next time you might as well pop him one in the jaw – just make sure I’m not there when you do, because I will not take sides, Nick, is that clear?” She stared at him, her uncovered eye round and serious.

He gave a short nod. “Yeah, I got it. I’m sorry,” he said again. “Listen, call if you need anything, okay? I’ll… I guess I’ll see you around.”

“See ya,” Claire echoed hollowly, as Nick shambled dejectedly out the door.

***

Lyrics: “I Still” by the Backstreet Boys