was as mortifying as it was freeing, and it hurt. Fuck, it hurt so
much that Claire couldn’t breathe. That was the reason she
didn’t sleep. Because sleeping deprived her of oxygen.
Because the world didn’t have enough oxygen.
Haley hadn’t begged or cried when she’d gone. She was
rational. She knew what Claire was saying and she’d agreed in
the end. She knew they couldn’t be together. She had tried to
fight a little, but she knew Claire wouldn’t be swayed. Except,
could she have been? Probably not.
She’d done the right thing and she’d been a ghost ever
since. She didn’t think it would be so hard, getting over Haley.
The house hadn’t been so empty before she came. Nothing had
been missing for Claire before Haley came. Alright, not true,
but very little that she couldn’t fix herself. Now, she couldn’t
fix anything.
Claire lay staring up at the ceiling until three in the
morning. She wasn’t sure what it was about that magical,
stupid number showing on her phone when she moved her
finger across the screen, but something about it screamed at
her to get up. What good was it just staying on her back,
haunted by all the things that had already happened and
wouldn’t happen again?
She shoved out of bed. She hadn’t bothered getting
undressed. Her black blouse and black slacks were horribly
rumpled, but who was there to see or care? It was three in the
damn morning.
It was the lack of sleep that made Claire feel bleary and
almost drunk. She still made her way to the kitchen just fine.
Once she was there, in that still, hulking darkness, she took a
deep breath. And another. And another. It turned out, there was