Chapter 25: Chapter 24. I’m Willing to Fight for Her

CLAIRE

I froze, my breath hitching as I stared at the message. My eyes widened in shock.

~Why today of all days?~ I raged silently.

Blake, noticing my sudden silence and shock, looked at me with a mix of concern and curiosity. “Are you okay, Claire?” he asked, focusing his attention on me.

I became aware that his dad and Anya were also staring at me. Daniel’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, while Anya tilted her head, clearly puzzled.

I sat there, frozen and silent. I didn’t know what to say or how to explain. Finally, I came up with a quick excuse and looked back at Blake.

“I’m really sorry. I just got a text from my mom. She wants me to meet her at a restaurant because my… aunt’s in town. I have to go now,” I said, standing up and brushing imaginary dust off my tight red dress.

To my surprise, I could walk in these heels! My mom had chosen the dress and shoes. They were perfect. I left their presents on the coffee table before I left. They should find them.

But I wouldn’t let James hurt them in any way. We had just reunited our family, and I wouldn’t let anyone harm them.

As I reached the door, Blake grabbed my arm. “Wait, what about dinner?” he asked, a hint of sadness in his eyes.

I couldn’t blame him. I didn’t want to leave either. But this was about James. The guy I thought I loved, the guy I thought I knew, the guy I thought was my forever.

But now, I didn’t even know him, I didn’t love him anymore, and I couldn’t bear the thought of spending the rest of my life with him.

I shook my head sadly. “I’m sorry, Blake. This was unexpected and I didn’t know until now. I haven’t seen my aunt for a few years. I promise I’ll let you know if I’m coming back,” I lied smoothly.

Blake was about to protest, but I quickly leaned in and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “I promise.” Those were my last words before I rushed out the door. A blush crept up my cheeks as I realized what I had just done.

I had just kissed Blake Jonson. It wasn’t a real kiss, but it was a kiss nonetheless.

BLAKE

She was lying. I knew her well enough to notice the slight stutter and pause in her excuse. But why?

I couldn’t move. Her lips had felt so warm and soft, even if it was just a brief moment, on my cheek.

“Where’d Claire go?” Anya was the first to break the silence.

I looked up. My dad was also giving me a curious look, wondering what had just happened. “Yeah. She seemed eager to leave. Did we do something?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

I shook my head quickly. “No way. Did you see her smiles and laughs? She loved you guys. But you heard her, her aunt’s in town.” I shrugged.

My dad nodded, though he didn’t seem entirely convinced.

“Dinner’s almost ready—where’s Claire?” my mom asked, coming out with a plate full of Christmas cookies.

We all looked up, and I gave a sad smile. “She had to go. Some last-minute thing. But she said she’d call if she could make it later,” I told her, my heart aching at the thought of Claire leaving.

Over the past few weeks, I’d grown attached to her. I’d come to love her like a sister, like a best friend.

My mom’s eyebrows knitted together in disappointment. “Oh, well, I hope she comes back. I really like Claire. She’s good for you.” My mom then grinned again.

I rolled my eyes.

“I like her too. She bought me a really pretty dress and played with me,” Anya said, smiling.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but she’s good for you, Blake. She’s a keeper. She’s brave, pretty, sweet, and a ~fighter~,” my dad said, grinning.

My head snapped in his direction. “Fighter?” I echoed, confused.

He nodded. “I’ve been in the business for years, Blake. I’ve learned to read body language. When I first met Claire, I wasn’t that impressed, but when she held her own in my silent staring contest, I was impressed.

“She was able to look me straight in the eye as she shook my hand. Not many people have the guts to do that to me.

“Either she’s used to standing up for herself and fighting, or she’s naturally brave and doesn’t take crap from people,” my dad finished, turning on the television to watch some football.

I stared at him in wonder. My mind went to how Claire behaves. When her past comes up, she’s always so defensive and quiet.

Her parents. She had said that things changed when she was little, and now everything was fine.

This was the first time I had ever seen Claire so happy for such a long time. I don’t think anyone has ever seen her this happy.

“So, does Claire have a boyfriend?” my mom asked, a suggestive tone in her voice.

I shook my head, chuckling. “No, Ma, she doesn’t. And it seems like she doesn’t want one anyway.” I shrugged.

My mom gaped. “What? She’s beautiful! How does she not have someone in her life?” My mom asked, bewildered.

I shrugged, not liking the strange feeling in my gut.

“Well, it seems that ever since her last boyfriend she hasn’t really learned to trust,” I told my mom.

She gave me a sad smile and placed her hand on my shoulder. Her warm smile was a warning of what was to come: a lecture, or a speech.

“Blake, she’s hurting. Deep down, she’s craving love and companionship. She wants someone to hold her when she’s crying, someone who can make her smile just by being there.

“She’s longing for love, sweetheart. All women do, and always will. Men too. We all crave someone to share our lives with. We all want someone to love and be loved by.

“Blake, you need to understand this about women. She’s in pain right now. She doesn’t know how to deal with it, so she keeps it all inside.

“She’s built walls around her heart to protect herself from more pain. Clearly, her breakup with her ex-boyfriend hit her hard. It shows that she truly loved him, but he just messed her up.

“So, Blake, I have to ask you: If you really care about Claire, are you ready to fight for her?” my mom asks softly.

I can only sit there, stunned. My mom’s heartfelt talk has been enlightening. At least now I understand the icy hostility she used to show a few weeks ago.

“Because, sweetheart, Claire looks like she’s already experienced a lifetime of heartbreak. I don’t want you to cause her more pain.

“You might not realize it, and she might not either, but the more time you spend together, the more you’re gradually breaking down her defenses. You’re slowly finding a place in her heart without even realizing it.

“But she, and all of us, need to know what you’re prepared to do for her.

“So, the question remains: Are you ready to fight for Claire, or will you just be another shattered dream that breaks her heart even more?” my mom concludes. Her lips press into a thin line as she waits for my response.

As I ponder her words, I start to notice all the little things about Claire.

Like how she becomes uneasy under anyone’s gaze, or how she despises romantic chick-flicks, and how she always seems to bite her lip or look away when she’s lying or uncomfortable.

And then, I start to think about the times she makes me laugh with her corny jokes, and how she can lift my spirits with just one smile, and how I always seem to get irritated when I see other men looking at her inappropriately.

All of these thoughts lead me to one conclusion: I have a crush. I like Claire. I really like her. I ~want~ her.

A surprised smile spreads across my face as I look back at my mom. “I’m ready to fight for her.”

CLAIRE

By 5:13 p.m., I was dressed in a purple sweatshirt, matching purple converse, and tight blue skinny jeans. My iPhone was in my pocket as I stood at the entrance of the gym. It was closed, of course, but I could make out a tall figure in the dark gym—James.

With a heavy sigh, I pushed open the gym doors, already anticipating what was to come…