Chapter 2
CHAPTER 2
C lara
The atmosphere of Maison Blanche was warm and cozy. My table was covered with fine white cloth with a candle lit in the middle, inviting me to lean forward. Gabe sat across from me as he played with his silverware, fixing it so that each utensil matched perfectly.
I smiled warmly. “This has been such a lovely evening.”
“I'm glad you're enjoying it.”
My smile widened. “And I haven't been here before. It's such a fancy place. We're right in the middle of the restaurant, it seems.”
It's the perfect place for a proposal , I thought giddily. I'm finally getting what I deserve .
“It's the perfect place, isn't it?”
I nodded. “And the food was delectable. I'm sad I couldn't have had much more.”
“I'm glad you had your fill. I want you to enjoy everything.”
“I love that about you.”
“I love everything about you.” He dropped his gaze, his thick lashes batting quickly as he licked his lips. But he never lost his handsome smile. That remained steady. When he raised his eyes to mine, he was smiling internally. I could feel it. “I love everything about you so much that I think it's time for us to take things to the next level.”
“The next level?” I repeated calmly. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that I've spent so much time with you, Clara. Enough time with you to know how you are when people aren't looking.”
I smiled shyly and reached for my glass of wine, swirling it as I listened to him. I felt dreamy. I felt like I was floating and I hadn't even had that much to drink. It was totally the atmosphere—everything felt like a fantasy.
I heard a champagne bottle pop in the distance. The chatter from the next table rose up slightly and then died down as I focused entirely on Gabe.
“You mean so much to me,” he continued. “And you have so much to offer as an interior designer. I feel like you could thrive just about anywhere.”
I blushed. “You're sweet, Gabe.”
“And you're special— so much so that taking things up a notch would bring me so much pleasure. I think we're ready for this.”
Here it comes .
He reached across the table and took my hand. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”
“I mean, you say it often, but you haven't really told me why.”
“I love you because you're a real woman. You're good with your hands and you're creative as hell. You're also sexier than anyone I've ever met.”
“Wow, even sexier than your guy friends?”
He laughed. “And your humor is so refreshing. You're different, Clara. That's what makes you so special to me.”
My eyes softened. “You're different, too. You're not like anyone I've known in the past. You really seem to get me and I can't tell you how much I appreciate that.”
He reached into his pocket, fished around briefly, and then pulled his hand out. His hand was empty. My heart sank slightly but I kept my features calm. Maybe he was just as nervous as I was. I mean, proposing was a huge deal and we were in the very center of the restaurant. If he was hesitant, I could understand.
I licked my lips. “Do you think we're ready?”
“For the next level? Of course, I do, baby! We're ready for just about anything. You and I can create so much together. It would only make sense to move forward like this.”
“I'm ready for it. I want it.”
“I'm so glad to hear you say that. I can't tell you how relieving it is. I know the kind of hang-ups you've had about moving in the past.”
I looked at him quizzically. “Moving?”
“Darling, I would love to propose to you.”
My eyes widened as tears started streaming down my face. I couldn't stop the flow. It was uncontrollable. My voice broke as I whispered, “Propose?”
“I would like you to move with me to New York.”
I stared at him blankly for a moment. He didn't reach back into his pocket. He didn't take out a ring or ask me anything else. He just let that question hang between us, suspended in front of my vision like a pesky spider building a poorly constructed web.
I blinked. “You want me to move to New York?”
“I think you're ready for it. I think we're ready for it. My job is taking me there and I thought that it would be the best place for a budding designer like yourself!”
I withdrew my hand, placing it against my heart where I wore the necklace he gave me for my birthday. I fiddled with it. “You know how I feel about moving for someone.”
“I know and that's why I thought this was different.”
“This isn't any different.”
He frowned. “What do you mean, Clara? I'm nothing like your ex. I don't travel the world. I'm just going to one place and I want you to come with me.”
“And leave everyone behind? You have to be kidding me, Gabe.”
I sniffled. I hadn't stopped crying. I was just crying for a completely different reason.
I grabbed my purse from beneath the table and slung it over my shoulder as I stood up. “This isn't going to work. I have to go.”
“Wait, Clara! Don't go!”
“It's over, Gabe. I'm moving out.”
He reached out for me but I avoided his touch like the plague. I couldn't believe he didn't want to get married. I couldn't believe his idea of a proposal was asking me to sacrifice everything I had ever known. I ran away from him and out of the restaurant, stumbling up the sidewalk as if I had drank an entire bottle of wine to myself. But I hadn't. I was stone cold sober.
And that made it all the worse.
I whipped my phone from my purse and clicked on the one person I knew would understand: Jennifer. As the phone trilled in my ear, I skipped over to my car that I had parked across the street and locked myself in. I kept an eye on the front door of the restaurant.
I knew Gabe would likely come after me. Since Jennifer hadn't answered, I tossed my phone into the passenger's seat and turned the key in the ignition, carefully peeling away from the curb even as tears clouded my vision. I shook my head as I drove.
“I can't believe him,” I groaned. I reached for my phone again. “Come on, Jen. I need you right now. Pick up. Just pick up . . .”
The line rang endlessly. When Jen finally answered, I nearly squealed into the phone. I was blubbering so much that she had to tell me to calm down.
“I'm sorry,” I blurted. “It's been a night.”
“What's going on, sweetie?”
“It's Gabe. He didn't propose. He wants me to move to New York.”
Jen gasped. “No!”
“Yeah, he made it sound like it was going to be a proposal and then he dropped that heaping, steaming pile of trash right into my lap in the middle of the restaurant.”
“But it sounded like—oh, honey. I'm so sorry! The whole town was buzzing about him asking you to marry him.”
“And that's what I thought was going to happen.”
“Where are you? Are you still at the restaurant?”
I took a shaky breath. “No, I'm driving to your house. Are you home? Is that okay?”
“Now isn't a great time for company. I'll be honest.”
I heard some chatter in the background. There were too many disembodied voices to pluck out anyone specifically. I assumed it was her mother and a few family members. They were all chattering at once and I held the phone away from my ear to avoid the cacophony of noise.
“Hey, Clara?”
I held the phone back to my ear. “Yeah?”
“I have to go. I hate to do this to you, but I'll just have to call you later, okay?”
“Okay, that will be fine.”
“I promise I will call. Just get home safely and get comfortable. I'll text.”
I nodded. “Of course.”
The line disconnected and I tossed my phone back into the seat. It wasn't too long before I reached my apartment—the apartment I had shared with Gabe. I parked my car on the curb, shut off the engine, and sat quietly in the driver's seat with my forehead pressed to the steering wheel.
My life as I knew it was over. There was no way I was ever going to leave Checotah, OK. This place was my home. It was where I had found my first love, even if that first love took off to Europe while barely coming back. It was where I had first gotten drunk, where I had found Jennifer, and where I had developed a real taste for interior design.
I didn't ever want to leave.
I sighed as I raised my head from the steering wheel. I was willing to bet there was a nice, shiny red mark on my forehead from it, a wonderful signal to the world that I was in pain. I grabbed my purse and my phone before stepping out onto the curb. I locked my car and headed upstairs without another passing thought about Gabe.
Well, I might have had a few.
Gabe had been so good to me. He had treated me better than any man I had ever met and yet he had the gall to do the one thing he knew would break us up. It was bad form to ask me to move before marrying him. He should have known better. And yet he still worked up the guts to ask. Of all the things he knew about me, he knew that the most.
All I ever wanted was to get married in my hometown and have the dream job of my life. I had the job, but Jen was getting married instead of me. I was happy for Jen—I really was—but I was also jealous. I loved her like a sister and I wanted her to get everything out of life that she deserved. She had never done any wrong to anyone.
And neither had I. Everything I had in my life I had earned—even Gabe. I had made sure my life was set up properly so I could get the most out of it. I never asked for much. I always sought fulfillment as most people had, but I was lacking. And I wasn't sure why I was lacking so much.
I marched into my apartment, kicked off my heels, and immediately dove into the bed, letting the velvet blanket soothe me as I cried quietly. I heard my phone buzz.
“We'll have to catch up another day,” Jen texted. “My family is nuts.”
“That's okay.”
“I'm so sorry about tonight, honey. You have all my love.”
I smiled. “Thanks. I love you, too.”
After I set down my phone, I listened to the sounds of the city around me. There were cars bustling up the main road and plenty of white noise from the highway. I could hear the planes flying overhead. All around me, life existed.
And yet I felt hollow. My heart had been yanked from my chest, carved out with a switchblade. The things I had worked hard for were in this apartment—everything except for a husband. It wasn't that I needed that to be complete. It was just that I did my best to make my relationship perfect. It had always felt perfect.
But now it was imperfect.
And it was officially over.