Chapter 2

Mathis

Nick, Jarvis, and a few other players ignite the ward. Nurse Evie is even dancing to the music as they play around. Claire is in the center of the rec room, swinging her hips, lining up the kids as they wait for pictures.

I’m off tonight, tired as hell, but wouldn’t miss this. Having the Super Bowl champions visit has been the highlight of these kids’ lives. My family is here, but more importantly, Claire is here.

My Claire.

My instincts are screaming at me to go to her, snatch her away, and make her talk to me.

Why the fuck she ran last night, I’m still trying to figure out. I want her to move in, establish our lives, build a foundation—and she ran.

My chest seizes when I watch her take Brinley from Shaw, dipping and shaking until Brinley’s squealing in delight. She’s glanced my way once since arriving and has avoided me ever since.

Fuck it, this has gone on long enough. I take a step forward and then I feel it.

The heat, the disappointment, the wrath is coming. I turn to find Bizzy and Grace at my back. Both have their arms crossed and are staring at me angrily.

“What happened?” Bizzy glares icily.

“Biz,” I start, but she cuts me off.

“Don’t ‘Biz’ me. What happened?”

“She left me.” I point out what they probably know.

“No one actually leaves a Bennett. They chase them down!”

“I couldn’t find her.”

Bizzy’s face morphs into something unrecognizable, and she glances through the room at Claire. “She disappeared?”

“Yes. I went looking for her, but she didn’t go home.”

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“Because it was the middle of the night, and Shaw would have had a conniption. Besides, this doesn’t have anything to do with anyone but the two of us.”

I immediately regret my choice of words when Bizzy jerks and Grace’s jaw drops. “We’re a group. All of us. Have you forgotten that?” Bizzy asks softly.

“There are some things that need to remain private, Biz. Whatever is going on will work itself out.”

“Work itself out?” Grace looks like she may cry. I need to act fast or else Nick will go crazy.

“Grace—”

“No, stop. I think we all know how dire this situation is now. You’ve said enough.”

“I haven’t said anything.”

“Yes, you have. You let her leave in the middle of the night alone. Now, you’re in the same room and couldn’t be farther apart. That says it all.”

“She’s working. I’m trying to respect her space.”

It’s obvious I’ve said the wrong thing when Grace grabs Bizzy’s arm, and they stomp away. I try to follow them only to be intercepted by Nick and Shaw. Both close in and back me into a corner.

“What the fuck did you do?” Shaw hisses at me.

“Nothing!” I defend, pushing at both of their shoulders.

“Nothing my ass, you’ve fucked up.” Nicky bends back to make sure none of the kids heard him.

“How did you come to that conclusion?”

“Because you’re over here, but Claire’s over there. She’s the center of the party, and you are standing here like a dud. She’s got tearstains on her cheeks, her smile doesn’t reach her face, and my fucking wife is in shambles about this ‘Mathis and Claire break-up’.” Nick seethes.

“We didn’t break up,” I try to reassure them, my stomach twisting.

“You sure?” Nick gets closer in my space, eyeing me with disbelief. “I told you years ago, but you didn’t listen when I said she’s not one to be tamed. I think you are great together. It fucking thrills my wife, like a love-story playing out. But something happened, and that love story doesn’t look good. Fix it.”

“You’re a dickhead.” I rear up, and Shaw steps between us, his face hard as stone, and I remember kids are a few yards away. “I told her we needed to move in together, and she freaked.”

Shaw shakes his head then pins me with his stare. “What exactly did you say?”

I explain the conversation and know I’ve lost the battle when Nick and Shaw both whistle through their teeth.

“Yikes.” Nick raises an eyebrow at Shaw.

“He’s fucked,” Shaw responds.

I stand, irritated beyond belief until I hear her voice and sense her close.

“NICKY BENNETT! You’re up!” Claire shouts, dragging him away from our pow-wow and not glancing at me.

An ache jolts in my heart, and I rub my chest to sooth it. When I raise my face, Shaw’s eyeing me with sympathy.

“Do you love her?” he asks.

“I do.”

“Have you told her?”

I think back to everything we’ve shared. Have I told her? No.

For years, the words she said to me that night plagued my mind. I did want her— always her. The timing wasn’t right, so I stuck to my decision, working my ass off to get where I am. She did the same. We forged ahead, working side by side, and never let the past affect us. Our lives are so intertwined that, at times, it was torture to be around her so often, but it was the best kind of torture because at least she was close. Claire stuck to her word, never mentioning our history to anyone until last year.

I think back to the night of Shaw’s wedding, a night of celebration in many ways, but it’s Claire who fuels my memories. Beautiful, carefree, wild—everything that made me fall in love with her. I cracked, giving in to her seduction, and finally had her back in my arms. It felt right, and I knew I was done hiding how I felt.

Then Nick found Grace and things got crazy. I told myself the timing wasn’t right again.

She taunted me, pushing my buttons every chance she could. The day she got into a fight at Nick’s game, I was done. She was mine. She never spoke of our time apart, and I didn’t press the issue. Nothing mattered now that it was behind us.

“Shit, you haven’t told her?” Shaw breaks into my thoughts.

“She knows. She has to know.”

“If you believe that, then you are the biggest fucking idiot in the world.”

“We’re done here.” I try to push past him, but he blocks me.

“Do you love her so much that it racks you to your soul thinking about a life without her?”

I try to picture my world without Claire.

His words hit me hard, and I back into the wall, my chest seizing.

“I loved her at first sight.”

“Well, you finally admit it.” Shaw looks pleased with himself.

“My relationship with Claire is completely different than yours with Bizzy.”

“You don’t have to tell me that; it’s obvious. I had a ring on Bizzy’s finger in less than six months. Nick was married to Grace in six months. You’re the one taking the slow boat.”

“Don’t compare our situations. You and Nick had huge issues.”

“Yeah, we did. Issues or not, we almost lost our wives because of stupidity. The one thing we have in common is we relied on each other for help. You seem to be on an island, and let me tell you something, the way I see it, it’s about to be a lonely island.”

“We’ll get through this. Stay out of it.”

“Too fucking late for that. You need us.”

“I don’t need anything.”

“Doesn’t it bother you that, when you eloquently stated ‘this double occupancy thing isn’t working out,’ she was able to haul ass so easily? For Christ’s sake, Mathis, she had a packed bag ready to go. That has to tell you something is wrong in the scenario!”

“You heard Nick, she can’t be tamed.”

“Tamed? You think having clothes in your closet and belongings in your drawers is tamed? You’re an asshole.”

“You’re beginning to piss me off.”

“Good, maybe you need to be pissed off! Because I’d rather take a chance with pissing you off if it gets your head straight. You’re about to lose the best thing in your life. This calls for action and, like it or not, you now have four other people in your business. We love you and Claire, and we’re not going to stand by while you destroy this. She’s worth fighting for.”

“I don’t have to fight. She’s mine.”

He blows out a breath and looks at the ceiling, muttering, “slow, slow, slow boat.”

“We’re done.” I shove past him with my focus on one thing.

Finding Claire.

Shaw’s words replay in my mind. He may be an asshole, but he’s right about one thing—she shouldn’t have been able to get away so easily last night. With the exception of her toothbrush, there are no traces of her in my condo.

I get to the recreation area and search through the hordes of people, listening for her laughter. Nick catches my eye from across the room and gives a curt nod.

“She’s gone.” Nurse Evie lays a hand on my shoulder, her eyes loaded with pity.

“Where’d she go?”

“I don’t know, she saw you and Shaw and told me she had to go.”

I spin, taking off to the stairwell and pulling my phone out. The call goes straight to her voicemail.

“Claire, call me. We aren’t going another night with this. I need to talk to you.” I hang up and run through the main floor of the hospital to the parking garage. Her car is no longer in the spot it was when I arrived.

I call her over and over, driving by my condo to see if she’s shown up. When I don’t spot her, I go to her apartment and see she’s not there either. I grab her keys out of my glovebox and let myself in, thankful I insisted on having a key to her place.

I turn on a few lights and drop into a recliner that faces the window. If she pulls up, I’ll see her. After a few minutes, I glance around the apartment. We spend a significant amount of time here, but tonight, I’m seeing things in a new light. Claire’s style is a perfect reflection of her. Bright paintings on the walls, colorful pillows on the sofa, and a hot pink blanket draped on the other chair in the room. There are picture frames all over the room. I scan them and find three that have just the two of us. One at Nick’s wedding, one at my parents’ anniversary party, and the most recent from a few weeks ago at the Super Bowl.

All of them have us smiling at the camera, my arm slung around her shoulder, and at someone else’s celebration.

Generic, plain, and amicable are the words that come to mind.

I turn back to the window, staring into the dark parking lot. After two hours, it’s obvious she’s not coming here. I think about going home in case she shows there, but I know in my gut she’s not.

Maybe I should call Bizzy, get her and Grace involved in this mess. Instead, I type out a quick text to Claire.

Baby, I’m at your place. Come home.

No response.

I turn off the light and continue watching the parking lot.

Fifteen months. For fifteen months, Claire has been mine. And all I have to show for it is a set of keys, a toothbrush, and three fucking framed pictures.

I really am a fucking asshole.