15. Claire
15
Claire
Game. Set. Match.
Across the table, Richard, Mike, and Gavin are locked in a heated debate over classic muscle cars versus electric vehicles. Their animated voices are punctuated by emphatic hand gestures as they exchange words.
The whole family is gathered in the first living room downstairs, closest to Mimi and Gramps’ quarters. The grandparents have gathered us all because they have an important announcement, and while we wait, the chatter goes on all around me.
Bobby occasionally chimes into my brothers’ arguments. I lean back in the plush chair, enjoying them going at each other’s throats. I’m content with sitting there in silence while Bob's hand, warm and surprisingly calloused, rests lightly over mine on the polished oak table.
Silence suddenly descends on the car debate while my brothers stare at Bobby with begrudging respect.
"Alright, alright," Mike concedes first. "You know your stuff, Doc. But a '67 Mustang still beats any souped-up import any day of the week."
Bobby chuckles, a touch of amusement dancing in his blue eyes. "Maybe, maybe not. But you gotta admit, those Japanese cars have come a long way."
Just as Mike leans forward on the table to add his two cents, a hush falls over the room. All eyes turn towards the grand archway that leads into the main hall where Mimi and Gramps now stand, cutting the perfect picture of the undisputed matriarch and patriarch of the Carter clan.
Gramps clears his throat, immediately silencing the room. "We called you all here because we have something important to announce tonight.”
He smiles at Mimi, who places a hand on his arm. "Yes," she chimes in, her voice filled with warmth. "We've decided the future of the Sterling estate in Austin."
A collective intake of breath fills the air. The property has been a source of speculation within the family for years. Everyone knows Gramps and Mimi’s plan to gift it to either myself or Fiona.
A beat of silence follows Mimi's announcement and Fiona perches at the edge of her seat, her gaze flitting between Gramps and Mimi.
"We've decided to gift the estate to Claire," he declares, a proud smile gracing his lips.
His announcement is met with stunned silence. Then, the room erupts in cheers, whistles, and calls of congratulations.
Richard walks over to me and hugs me hard, exclaiming, "Well, about time!"
Aunt Martha reaches across the table to grab my hand. For a while, I’m lost in the whirlwind of congratulations. Bobby stands by my side, a little smile hanging on his lips. I can see Fiona’s furious look from across the room. I can almost hear wheels turning in her head.
I suddenly don’t know what to do, so I turn to meet Bobby's gaze again—a mischievous glint sparks in his eyes as he leans forward and tucks my hair behind my ear, trailing a finger slowly across my jaw.
“Congratulations, Claire.”
I lick my lips. “Thank you.”
There’s only one thought in my mind as I look up into his eyes.
Kiss him.
Everything else stills around us as I grab his shirt and haul him towards me. A bit of surprise flashes in his eyes, and then it’s quickly replaced with burning passion as I lean towards him, eyes closed, mouth parted, blood pounding in my ears.
The moment his lips meld with mine, it feels like the world ceases to exist. I can hear cheers and applause in the room fade like it’s miles away. His fingers caress my hair, his roving mouth setting an intoxicating fire that spreads across every nerve ending.
When he pulls back, we both gasp amidst the loud cheers in the room. I stand dazed, holding his hand as my mind dizzies with thoughts. Something has changed, and I know it. He just must not have been ready to talk about it…about us the other night. Our kisses have always been passionate, but this one had more desire and unspoken meaning that makes me want to pull him into the closest room and try it again.
Mimi and Gramps make their way to us, their faces beaming with a mixture of joy and relief.
"Congratulations, you two!" Mimi exclaims, engulfing me in a tight hug. Gramps claps Bobby on the shoulder. "Welcome to the family, son," he says with warmth in his voice.
Bobby nods, a touch of awkwardness evident in his smile. "Thank you, sir. I…I'm honored."
The rest of the evening is a blur of well-wishes. Through it all, I can barely focus, still thinking about the kiss with Bob.
I look around as the night wears on amidst celebratory champagne and the large dinner. In the eyes of the family, Bobby and I are a couple with a future. They also believe we’re so in love with each other. I tremble— love . That kiss I just shared with him wasn’t fake. It was passion and emotion.
Catching his gaze across the table, I smile at him and raise my glass. He nods, his expression unreadable. My heart thumps as I stare at him. A mix of emotions swirls inside me—excitement, apprehension, and something suspiciously like hope.
There’s now an unspoken question between us: Where do we go from here?
By the time dessert rolls around—a decadent apple pie that threatens to push me into a food coma—I'm thinking of finding an escape with Bobby. His brow furrows as he stares intently at his fork and I can’t help but wonder what's going on in his mind. Does he share these same emotions eating me up from the inside out?
“Congratulations.”
I turn around to see Fiona leaning across the table. “Thanks,” I reply, giving a curt nod.
"So, are wedding bells on the horizon for our lovebirds?" She asks loudly enough to attract the attention of the entire table.
I feel the heat rise to my cheeks, my heart skipping a beat.
Before I can manage a response, Bobby, who seems unfazed by Fiona's pointed query, glances at me briefly, a trace of something unreadable passing between us, before turning back to Fiona with a nonchalant shrug.
"We aren’t ready to discuss that with everyone yet," he replies, his voice even. “But you can count on it.”
"Aren’t ready or you mean you guys haven't even talked about marriage yet? It’s a criteria for inheriting the estate together, you know?"
The air crackles with tension. While my cheeks burn with a mixture of indignation and embarrassment. Bobby, however, remains calm.
"We'll let you know when there's news to share, Fiona," he says with a smile. "But for now, we'd appreciate it if you could just let us enjoy the news."
Fiona opens her mouth to retort, but thankfully, Gramps intervenes.
"Enough, Fiona," he booms, leaving no room for argument. "Let the couple figure things out on their own time. There's plenty of pie left for everyone who wants more."
His words serve as a much-needed circuit breaker. The tension around the table dissipates, replaced by a smattering of nervous laughter and new conversation about the weather.
As soon as it's deemed polite, I excuse myself from the table, my stomach protesting against any further food intake. Bobby casts a lingering glance in my direction as I leave.
I head to our room, standing on the grand balcony overlooking the sprawling gardens, the fantastic night air a welcome relief after the stifling atmosphere of the dining room.
A fleeting image flashes across my mind. I’m standing on this balcony beside Bobby in a white dress shimmering under the soft glow of fairy lights, the happiest smile ever gracing my lips as I look up at him.
Why am I suddenly happy at the thought of marrying Bobby? I was never big on marriage before. The answer, a truth I can no longer deny, settles deeply in my stomach. I’m in love with him. And I have been for a really long time.
This whole charade of a fake relationship has morphed into something far more potent in the privacy of my thoughts. Bobby’s easy smile, sharp wit, and unwavering support have chipped away at the walls I've built around my heart.
The creak of the back door opening pulls me from my reverie. Without turning, I know it's him. He comes to stand beside me, the soft thud of his sneakers merging to the chorus of crickets chirping in the night.
"Congrats, again." His voice rumbles softly, sending shivers throughout my body.
I flash him a smile, the moonlight highlighting the planes of his face and his firm, angular jawline. "Thanks," I reply, my voice soft. "For… everything."
"Just glad I came," he hums, a touch of nostalgia already creeping into his voice. "Lots of memories out here, huh?"
"Interesting memories," I add with a strained laugh.
Bobby chuckles, a touch of amusement dancing in his eyes. "That’s one way of putting it."
We stand there for a moment, gazing out at the star-dusted night sky. A million unspoken questions fill the air–about the future, about us, about the jumbled web we've somehow managed to weave.
"So," I begin, my voice barely a whisper. "What now?"
“Depends on what we want to do.”
I sigh. The time I asked of him will be over soon, and he’ll leave for his family’s home in Florida. I don’t know if he’ll ever come back because his dad has always tried to convince him to work for Sawyer Medicals, and this time, he might succeed—and every one of these hot, blinding feelings between us will remain largely unexplored.
That would be such a waste. Suddenly, the weight of it all becomes too much. Turning on my heel, I find myself face-to-face with Bobby. I sigh again. He’s beautiful. His dark hair falls in gentle waves, framing a face that lures you in with one smile. The moonlight glints off the sapphire blue eyes that sparkle with warmth.
Before I overthink it, I do the one thing I know I shouldn't. I reach up and cup his face in my hand, my thumb gently stroking the slight stubble on his jaw. His eyes swell with surprise, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his features before I lean forward and kiss him for the second time that night.
I take the chance to swoop in, wrapping both hands at the nape of his neck to plant my lips against his, but he suddenly pulls away, his chest heaving with exertion as if battling his urges.
“No, Claire!”
I should tell him now. Tell him that all these feelings and embraces are real for me. Tell him I don’t know how it happened, but I can’t control myself around him.
“Bob—”
"Claire," he interrupts, raising his hand. “We can’t do this anymore. I need to make a request that I hope you honor—”
“What? Huh?”
“We’ve achieved our goal. No more kisses, no more hugs. I want to have my friend Claire here, instead of the fake girlfriend for the last few days I have left here before I leave.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. This isn't how I'd envisioned confessing my feelings, but the words seem to have gotten lodged in my throat, choking me.
"Is that…" I stammer, my mind a tangled mess. "Is that how you really feel?"
"It’s what I want, Claire," he mumbles softly, as if not believing the words tumbling out of his own mouth. "It’s what’s good for us."
Wow. I’ve been friend zoned.
His words feel like a punch to the gut. I was foolish to have thought something could have come of this just because I want it. Bobby has always treated me like a best friend and now I’ve gone and fallen head over heels for him.
It’s my problem to fix. Not his.
"Right," I mumble, my voice barely audible. "Of course."
“Okay, good,” he says, looking back over the balcony.
I stare at his profile. My heart aches with a dull, throbbing pain. This is it, then. The end of the road, the curtain about to fall on the most unexpected, exhilarating chapter of my life.
I'm hopelessly in love with Bobby and he doesn’t feel the same way—this is just another invisible thread in the tapestry of my melodramatic life. It’s the cruel irony of my existence, and it cuts deeper than I ever imagined.