CHAPTER 30
Harvey
Being around Claire lessens the heartbreak.
It reduces the pain.
On Tuesday, I end up training with Claire, which helps me mentally, but once she’s gone and I’m waiting for Henrik, despair keeps me company instead.
Reality set in once I checked Henrik’s room and saw none of Gemma’s things. No more bookshelves full of fantasy books. Judging by the way Henrik’s college textbooks are shoved all over the place and he just moved in, I’d say the guy has no respect for them.
It isn’t going to be easy at first to get up every morning and notice all the changes in my routine without Gemma in it.
Claire’s still distant on Wednesday. I suppose I should be glad that she’s allowing me space, but it also bothers me. Her distance worsens my suffering because being close to Claire is like a breath of fresh air on a sunny summer day.
It’s powerful and potent and mind-altering.
It only took one conversation, one look, and a few words here and there before an avalanche of longing and wanting and fucking feels took over me and it was too late—I was completely reeled in.
I’m a better person since meeting her, and she’s influenced me a lot even though I have a long road ahead.
A part of me wants to say fuck it and kiss her senseless, but I know I won’t regret committing to myself for a little while. It’s proving to be a hard task, though, especially when she looks cute in her jeans with a light blue cardigan.
“You did well today. I’m proud of you…for pushing through PT.”
I swallow. “I couldn’t do it without you, Claire.”
She smiles before she says, “Nonsense, you can do anything.”
Yeah, except fucking walk like I used to.
I don’t tell her that. I don’t want to be responsible for wiping that smile off her face.
Claire makes us a beef stew loaded with veggies for lunch. Once we’re done eating, we clean up, and I watch her finish up the last of the dishes.
“You’re a really good cook,” I compliment her.
She beams. “Thanks. I find it relaxing.”
I snort. “We have very different ideas of relaxing. Mine used to be jumping off cliffs.” I smile at the memories, wishing I could recreate them just once.
“I’ve never done…reckless things like that that. I’ve never been on a motorcycle either,” she says, deep in thought.
“Would you ever ride on one?”
“Probably not,” she tells me honestly.
I like her answer.
I like that I don’t have to worry about her needing something I’ll never be able to give her. With Gemma, I expected her to miss the bike life. I should’ve known it’d only be a matter of time before she ended up on one.
“Well, that’s a good thing. I wouldn’t recommend it,” I joke.
On Thursday, Gemma texts me to thank me for the drawing I gave her. I got the text after training with Claire and chose not to reply. It still did something to me—seeing Gemma’s name appear on my phone, knowing she cared enough about my gift to text me.
It means something to me.
But so does she, so does the woman standing in front of me.
Despite the pain post-breakup, I can’t imagine not seeing Claire or hearing her laugh or seeing her cheeks blush.
“You kicked my ass today,” I tell Claire.
The training keeps me out of bed and helps keep the demons at bay—at least during the day. Since the beginning, she’s gradually, slowly, yet intensively taken me from point A to point B, which has helped my physicality.
“I upgraded a few things.” She winks, staring at me with her big doe eyes.
The sight makes me want to melt in her hands.
And desperately makes me want to kiss her stupid.