Part 45

My grey suitcase landed with a soft thunk as I hefted it onto the neatly made bed. I folded my clothes into the case with unnecessary care, forcing myself to focus on the fabric alone. I couldn't allow my thoughts to wander during the mindless task. They would only lead to Jason, and I didn't trust myself to think of him without breaking down.

Preoccupied with my deliberate movements, I hardly noticed the sun sinking, succumbing to the stars of the night.

Having run out of clothes to pack, I went to the walk-in closet. Pushing aside the outfit I had laid out for the flight the next day, I rummaged through the drawers blindly. My heart dropped to my stomach when I pulled a folded paper bag into view. Written in a bold, black print was my name.

"A pretty name for a pretty girl."

Powerless against my own mind, I sank to the carpeted floor as the bag triggered every single memory I had of Jason.

Every word, every laugh, every smile, every touch, every kiss.

Every time he told me he loved me, and I lied that I didn't.

Every bit of pain and heartbreak in his remarkable eyes, and every second of knowing that I was the cause.

A violent cough ripped through my lungs as I wept uncontrollably. The backs of my hands came away with streaks of eyeliner when I wiped my damp eyes. Suddenly, the bedroom door was thrown wide open.

Claire rushed in, dressed in shimmery silk pyjamas. A black sleep mask rested haphazardly on her forehead.

"Leena," she gasped as she scanned the empty bed and balcony before spotting my crumpled form inside the closet. "Darling, what's wrong?"

The tears in my eyes blurred my vision as I tried to stand. Claire rushed to my side, throwing her arm over my shoulder and guiding me towards the bed.

"I heard you coughing all the way downstairs," she cried, her tousled hair held back in a loose bun. "I thought you were choking!"

"I'm fine," I managed, shoving my suitcase aside to make room for Claire.

"Leena, you don't look fine at all," she chided, patting my back to ease my cough. Her voice shook with concern when she demanded, "Tell me what's wrong!"

"It's all my fault," I surrendered, no longer willing to lie about Jason. "I shouldn't have asked to see Jason yesterday."

Perplexed, Claire asked, "Why, what happened?"

Fresh tears spilt over my eyes, trailing down my cheeks and onto my t-shirt.

"Lee," she said, calling my attention to her emerald eyes. "What happened? You said you and Jason figured everything out."

"We, um," I faltered, struggling for words. "We broke up on Friday."

"What?" she asked, flummoxed.

"London is too far. We'll just drift apart," I trailed off. "We're better off this way."

Claire's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Do both of you feel this way?"

"Not really, no," I answered, looking away from her. "But I convinced Jason, sort of."

"Why do you think you can't work things out, Leena?" Claire asked as though she were testing me on a question she already knew the answer to.

"I don't think that. I know that." I sighed, unwilling to divulge the truth about Chris. "But it's just . . . I missed him so much yesterday. I just wanted to see him, but he thought I'd changed my mind."

Tears flowed down my cheeks endlessly, distorting my voice as I spoke, "I hurt him so much. It's all my fault, I shouldn't have . . ."

"Hey, shh," Claire soothed, encircling my shaking body with her arms.

The only sounds that interrupted the silence were those of my erratic breaths. A minute later, Claire pulled away from me.

"Leena, you've made this decision purely out of fear," she said in measured tones. "Do you want to give up on Jason just because you're scared of what might happen?"

Her words cut deep into me, leaving me sore and helpless.

"You don't understand," I mumbled.

Claire's voice cracked when she replied, "Trust me, I understand more than you realise."

I stared at her, wide-eyed. "Are you . . . talking about Dad?"

A flicker of hurt crossed her face for just a second.

Dodging my question, she continued, "Lee, I'm not going to lie to you. Not everyone gets a happily ever after. But that's not what it's all about. You're afraid because of your past, and that's something only you can figure out. But if you let that fear rule you, it's going to hurt people and leave you with a lot of regrets."

Reading my mind, she hastened to clarify, "I know that it won't be easy if you change your mind about Jason. Sometime in the future, you might even regret having changed your mind."

"That's reassuring," I muttered in a half-hearted attempt at a joke.

"Leena, darling," Claire said calmly. "What I'm trying to say is, you might end up having regrets no matter what choice you make. But you can't let your past decide for you. That's unfair to Jason. You owe it to yourself and Jason to let go of your past, darling. You can't let your fear win. If you do, your biggest regret will be that you didn't choose for yourself."

That's unfair to him.

That's all I've been to Jason. Unfair.

He deserves so much better.

My thoughts spun out of control as I tried to wrap my head around Claire's words.

"I understood your father soon after I met him. I understood what he was afraid of, and why his job and money were his only security," she murmured. "I knew that his fears could cause problems for us. I hoped that over time, he will overcome them. I was wrong about that."

"What . . . ?" I gasped, wondering if I had misheard Claire. "Are you saying you knew you and Dad would split?"

"I was afraid that it might happen. But I chose to marry him, anyway," she smiled at me sadly. "I couldn't live with the regret of not giving him the chance."

"But . . . are you happy now, Claire? After everything that happened?" I asked dubiously. "Don't you wish you hadn't done that?"

"I'll be okay," she nodded. "I'll never regret marrying your father. I still love him, and I guess I won't stop waiting for him to change."

The honesty and hope that filled her voice melted my heart.

"I'm so sorry," I breathed, clasping her fingers in mine. "Dad's such an idiot."

"I'm not going to disagree," Claire laughed tearfully.

"He still loves you, I know it," I assured her. "He apologised the other day for not being there for me. He will change for you too."

"I don't know, but Lee, this is between me and him," she said, staring at me with a piercing gaze. "You can't talk to him about this, okay? You have to promise me."

"Yeah, okay," I grumbled as I made a mental note to confront my dad after I returned to London.

The prospect of Claire and my father reuniting was enough for me to forget my own troubles for a few blissful moments.

But Claire shattered that relief when she said, "Leena, it's up to you to decide. Would you rather leave Jason now and never find out what could've been? It's easier said than done, but you can't let the people in your past decide for you. I mean, are you happy with the way things are now? Is this what you really want?"

Am I letting Chris and my mother decide for me?

Claire's words had the effect of an electric shock, jolting my sleep-deprived brain wide awake.

A mother who abandoned her child and husband in the middle of the night, and a best friend who has no respect for friendship.

What right do they have to choose for me?

"No," I whispered, the honest answer leaving me lips in a rush. "I want . . ."

I wanted to give Jason all my love. I needed to ease his heartbreak. If not for myself, I had to be brave for him. I had to stop my mother's selfish absence and Chris's jealous rage from controlling me. My strength and honesty are the least Jason deserved.

A breathy laugh escaped my lips when I realised what I truly wanted.

"I want to tell him the truth," I admitted. "But . . . it's too late."

"Maybe it's too late tonight," Claire said, her palm resting on mine in a reassuring gesture. "But you have tomorrow."

"I'm leaving in the afternoon," I reminded her disappointedly.

"I can take you to the café before we go to the airport," she smiled. "Jason will be working there, won't he?"

I allowed a sliver of hope to brighten my mood. "Yeah."

Letting out a soft, contagious yawn, Claire pushed herself off my bed.

"It's really late, darling. We've got an early morning tomorrow," she reminded me. "Get some sleep, okay?"

"Okay. Good night," I said. Before she could leave, I caught her wrist in a swift motion, taking her by surprise. "Thank you."

Pressing the edges of her fingers against my cheek, Claire smiled, warm and beautiful. It was the kind of smile a loving mother would give to her daughter. Tears of an entirely different kind sprung to my eyes. But I held them back as Claire shut the door with a soft click. I waited until I could no longer hear the soft thump of her bare feet against the floor.

Shoving my suitcase under the bed, I sank under the smooth, clean sheets. Finally, I let the tears slip one by one. Each salty teardrop held a fraction of my pain and fears. As they escaped my eyelids, I imagined myself growing lighter, the weight of a painful, longstanding burden being lifted off me.

I'm letting go for you, Jason, I told myself.

Only one thing remained: love. There was a sudden, almost overwhelming abundance of it.

Love for every good person in my life.

Love for my dad, Claire, Zach, David, and even Bonnie.

And most importantly, love for Jason.

A euphoric smile, filled to the brim with hope, took over my face when the tears ceased to flow. That smile lingered until I slipped into the most peaceful sleep I'd had in a long time.