“I suppose it could have gone worse,” Alex announced as they walked into their living room.
“You didn't hear her, Alex. That won't be the end of it, I'm telling you!”
“I know that, Clara,” he replied angrily, “And I'm the one who is going to have to sit through all of that.”
“I told you I am sorry,” she said, repeating her apology again, “I can't undo it. When will you be able to forgive me?”
Alex turned around and looked at her. Clara hoped that maybe her pretty face or her puppy dog eyes would help him get over their fight. It had worked before – on lesser things, but apparently not this time.
“I don't know, Clara, just give it time.”
“I am sick of this,” Clara yelled, tears forming in her eyes. She just couldn't hold it in any longer, “I hate that we're always fighting. I feel absolutely miserable and I know it's my fault but all I want is for you to kiss me and tell me I'm beautiful like you've always done. Just say it! Say we're going to be fine!”
Alex hesitated, but eventually he spoke. “We're going to be fine. I hope. And I'm going to bed,” he said and began to turn away.
“Our bed?”
“No,” he replied, “I think I'm gonna stay in the guest room for a little while. Are you going to bed, too?”
Clara swallowed. “No, I think I need some fresh air first.”
OOO
John grabbed the box of fish 'n chips from the passenger seat and slammed the door of his van, thankful to finally be outside in the cold evening air. Nothing really seemed to help take his mind off Clara. All he could think about was her and how he could tell her that what had happened the night before could never ever happen again. Maybe it was time he told her the truth, told her that Alex was his son. She would understand. And she would also think that he had only used her to get close to him, which might even have been true in the beginning. No, telling her would probably be a mistake.
John turned around and saw that Clara had also just stepped outside of her house, wearing a long, pretty ball gown under her jacket. She waved at him when she spotted him next to his car and reluctantly John waved back. He watched her look right and left before she crossed the street and approached him.
“Went out for a midnight snack?” Clara asked casually.
“Went to the cinema. And then late night snack,” he said, leaning with his back against the van. Clara followed his example.
“Can I steal one?”
John held the box in her direction and Clara snagged one of the chips.
“What film did you see?”
John sighed. And then he laughed. “I can't actually remember. It was pretty boring. You were at the ball, I assume?”
“Yes,” Clara replied, staring at her feet, “It was terrible. Missy had told everyone of course and they were all staring at us. I know it was my fault but still, wasn't exactly a nice evening.”
“Yeah, it kind of is your own fault. What you said to Missy – ouch.”
“I'm sorry,” Clara said, now looking at him. John could tell by her expression that she meant it even though he wished she would stop looking at him like that.
“It's okay,” John said sincerely.
“No, it's not okay. Whether everyone believed it or not, I shouldn't have told everyone about your secret. That was anything but okay.”
“Clara, I never said it was a secret. Do I walk around with a sign around my neck that says 'I've been to prison for murder'? No, I don't, but it is the truth and it is my past and I never meant to hide that forever.”
She raised an eyebrow at him. “So you're not mad that I told everyone?”
“You could have picked a better time and place to do so, but no, not really. I was mad that you screwed things up with Missy. I actually liked her.”
“Well, I didn't,” Clara mumbled and quickly looked away. He had to say something and he had to say it now before he lost his courage.
“Clara, what happened last night can never happen again. I hope you know that,” he said simply.
“Yeah, I know,” she admitted, obviously sad, “Things are complicated with Alex at the moment, but I want to fix it. But you-”
“No, don't