Inferno Anthology (221 page)

She drank some of the smoothie, closed her eyes, and fell asleep.

The next time she woke, her suite burst with flowers. They looked beautiful, and their aroma permeated her dreams. Over the next few weeks, they were constantly replaced. It seemed as if they never wilted. They were meant to make her feel better, but mostly they reminded her of the funeral home after her parents’ death.

She even received
Get Well
cards and flowers from the Simmons’, Millers, and Bronsons. Apparently, Tony’s secretary, Patricia, called Sue to apologize: Claire had been so busy recently, and with her
accident
she hadn’t been able to call, but she would when she felt better and got the chance.

It made Claire feel so much better knowing that even though she’d almost died, appearances were maintained.

Claire recovered slowly and gradually. Dr. Leonard continued to treat her, coming to the estate every day during the first week after she woke. After that, the length between visits steadily increased. He never questioned her memory again. He did push her to recover. He pushed her to eat, walk, and go outside. He wasn’t the only one pushing. Catherine pushed. She pushed Claire to eat, shower, and do her hair and make-up.

The prompting seemed necessary. Claire would have lain in bed all day if they would let her. The only motivation she possessed was to return to the visions she’d experienced during her unconsciousness. Unfortunately, they didn’t reappear in any of her dreams.

It wasn’t that she felt sad. She didn’t. She didn’t feel scared, and with enough medication she didn’t feel pain. Accurately, she felt
nothing
. Consciously or unconsciously, she’d compartmentalized everything away. Nothing remained. With each prompt she obeyed. She ate. She walked, with difficulty at first. Her muscles had lost tone in just two weeks, and her weight dropped below anything she ever remembered. She showered, at first with assistance and then on her own. She conceded to Catherine’s pleas for hair and make-up; however, every activity tired her. Therefore, sleep became a natural and accepted escape.

The one person who didn’t pressure Claire was Tony; however, he was omnipresent—every day. Catherine told Claire he hadn’t left her side while she was unconscious. Now, he went to work but returned every evening. He spent most of his time in Claire’s suite, sometimes with his laptop, reading a book, talking, always willing to listen, and every night sleeping. While Claire stayed in the hospital bed, he slept in a recliner that was brought to her room. Once she made the transition to her big bed, he asked if he could sleep with her.

Claire said, “Yes, but…”

“I just want to sleep near you, if that’s all right with you?”

Dr. Leonard hadn’t given her the go-ahead on all normal activities. She’d suffered a concussion, which attributed to her unconsciousness and headaches; however, it was her broken ribs that caused the problem. Claire couldn’t lay in certain positions. Her own weight caused intense pain. She knew Tony’s weight would be agony. She didn’t assume she had a choice in his sleeping location and truly didn’t care, as long as she could sleep. He didn’t complain.

Each milestone: getting out of bed alone, walking to the bathroom alone, walking to the dining room, or going into the backyard received a gift. Some were simple tokens: a book, a journal, or a scarf—apparently very
in style
this season—but others, like for her first dinner in the dining room, were extravagant. The dining room warranted a new
journey
necklace, with three diamonds in increasing sizes to represent past, present, and future. The entire carat weight was easily over three. It was remarkable, but Claire missed her grandmother’s necklace. Although she didn’t mention it, she remembered it too had been a casualty of the
accident
.

It appeared the giving of gifts gave Tony pleasure; so Claire accepted them. The journey necklace representing past, present, and future didn’t bode well. She knew even in her fragile state she didn’t want
any
of the represented time periods. The jewelry was so excessive Claire began to think of it as costume. It made accepting it easier. She tried to act happy about the gifts and the attention; however, she felt like his eyes had been—devoid of emotion. There was nothing inside of her.

Catherine knew Claire liked being outside and encouraged Tony to take her out into the yard. The scene didn’t help her state of mind. The blue skies rarely shone, and the green of spring and summer had disappeared, like brown withered leaves blown away in the cool autumn wind. With the foliage gone, the outside was gray. All that remained was the black and white photo of landscape Claire saw when she was first brought to the estate.

One day, while walking the perimeter of the backyard, wearing warm coats and soft gloves, she asked Tony, “Do you have any idea when my debt will be paid?” The question obviously caught him off guard. She witnessed the fluctuation of his eyes. The intensity changing until it finally settled on light brown.

“My dear, Claire, the last time you were on your own, which was for only a day, look what happened. I think you need me. I don’t want you to have more
accidents
.” And then he added, “Do you?”

Remembering to answer audibly, Claire shook her head, looked down and whispered, “No.”

They didn’t discuss her accident. They discussed travel. The idea of leaving the estate frightened Claire. She felt confident she could avoid
accidents
if she stayed put. Tony said that when she was better he’d like to have her join him while he traveled. He talked about Chicago, New York, Phoenix, San Francisco, and overseas destinations. Claire asked if she needed a passport if they flew on a private jet. Tony said he would have Brent work on getting her one.

ON A SATURDAY,
in mid-November, two months after her accident, Claire was technically pronounced physically well. She’d become stronger with time. Her bruises had disappeared, ribs totally healed, headaches less frequent, and she could eat—although she had no appetite. Dr. Leonard visited the estate the day before and released her from his care.

Tony decided they should go on a drive. Claire hadn’t left the property, or even the immediate house, since early September. Faced with the reality of getting into the car caused an explosive and unexpected trauma.

That morning, she obediently dressed in the clothes she found laid out for her, which had happened every day since she was well enough to dress. The sun shone and the temperature felt unseasonably warm. She anticipated going outside, but when Tony announced he had the Lexus out front, Claire panicked. Her reaction was quick and unpredicted. Not wanting to go, she started to cry and shake. For the first time since the
accident,
Tony pushed. He didn’t ask, he declared, they were going for a drive.

It was the best thing he could do. She needed to get out, but Claire couldn’t think straight. She sat on the front steps and refused to get up. Finally, Tony reached for her arm. She reacted in a way she hadn’t since the first days of her arrival. Her entire body filled with anguish. Violently trembling, she started to scream. “I remember everything! I know the truth!
Please
do not touch me!” Her torment erupted as her volume increased. “I hate you! Leave me alone!”

He looked at her with disbelief, and she stared at him with vengeance.

Her screaming caused Catherine and Cindy to come running. By the time they arrived, Claire’s words were unintelligible, overlapped by sobs and whimpers. She sat on the steps, shaking, holding her knees, and rocking back and forth. Eventually her sobs subsided into freely flowing tears. She didn’t speak as Catherine gently helped her to her feet and calmly walked her to the car.

They began the drive in silence. Tony didn’t do or say anything. He drove and let Claire cry. It had been two months since her
accident
. She hadn’t cried or said a word. Suddenly it all exploded.

Dr. Leonard had given his clearance. Tony had been patient. Claire knew what he wanted, and she was petrified to be with him again. He drove them to a meadow. She’d never been there before or even seen it. It was very secluded. Claire’s crying subsided. Tony tenderly helped her out of the car, and while holding her hand he offered his overdue apology. “Claire, I’m sorry.”

She looked up at his eyes, they glistened light brown. “You’re sorry? Why are you sorry?”

His tone was remorseful and sincere. “I’m sorry for your
accident
.” She didn’t respond and looked away from his eyes. He continued, “Yes, I admit what happened that night was me. I admit I lost control, something which doesn’t usually happen. I admit I feel terrible, and Catherine has made me feel worse. I admit I was beyond furious with you and the article by Meredith Banks. I wasn’t thinking straight.” His eyes were getting darker. “I trusted you. I believed you wouldn’t betray my confidence and then—” His shoulders stiffened and then relaxed. “Claire, I would do anything to have that night to do over.”

They stood by the car, no longer touching. The breeze gently rustled the tall grass, blew wisps of hair around her face, and filled her lungs with the smell of impending winter. Claire watched his expression as he spoke. It had been so long since she’d felt anything. Suddenly, she fought the rapid mixture of emotions stirring inside of her.

Tony watched as her eyes, which had been dull and dead, now contained a small spark.

“Tony, I remember. I remember what you were doing and saying. I remember you saying I would need to be alone for a while, to think about who to talk to and who not to talk to.” Tony nodded his head. He’d said that. Claire’s eyes brimmed with tears. “Is that still coming?”

He reached for her shoulders. He intended to be gentle, but Claire backed away, tripped, and fell onto the ground.

His eyes said tender but she remembered anger. She didn’t know what to think or feel. Not feeling was so much easier. Confusion, apprehension, anger, and dread all bubbled up inside of her. From Tony’s expression, they also showed in her eyes.

He followed her to the ground. “Claire, please stop.” He knelt beside her. “No. That isn’t coming. I don’t think you need any more reminders on how to behave. Do you?”

Barely audible, she replied, “No. No, I don’t.”

“Claire, may I please touch you?”

Her trembling resumed. Sobs again resonated from her chest.

His voice, still gentle was also firm. “You know I don’t need your permission to touch you. I don’t need your permission to do anything.”

Claire’s eyes closed as she tried to swallow her sobs. She nodded her head, knowing too well her permission wasn’t necessary.

“But, I’d like to have it. Please, may I have your consent?”

She braced herself and opened her eyes. She looked at him, his expression, and his eyes. She closed her eyes again and meekly replied, “Okay.”

He scooted next to her, sitting on the cold hard ground, and softly placed his arm around her back. She tried to hide the tension, but she couldn’t control her anxiety at his touch. He gently bent down and tenderly kissed her lips, very lightly brushing his lips against hers. She didn’t back away. His mellow tone whispered near her ear. “Have I told you how much I like the highlights in your hair?” She shook her head. He lightly stroked her hair. “I think you’re amazing. You’re so strong and resilient. I don’t deserve your forgiveness for what I did, but you deserve to hear me ask for it.”

She didn’t want to look at him. Her emotions were too raw. She wanted to forgive him.

He didn’t touch her; instead, he moved himself in front of her so they were eye to eye. “Claire, I’m sorry I hurt you.” She felt the tears as she tried to maintain eye contact. He gently took her hands. “I ask that one day you’ll consider forgiving me.”

He kissed her hands.

When she looked into his eyes, she saw sadness and remorse. The swirl of emotions that had so violently erupted at the estate now settled into her chest. She wanted the sadness to go away. He’d been so patient. He was being so tender. She didn’t forgive him, but she began to respond to his advances. It started with kissing. He kissed her, and she began to kiss him. Then she felt his warmth as her hands caressed his arms and shoulders.

Tony bulged with excitement, yet he didn’t rush or push. He stayed compassionate and tender.

“Tony, I’m scared,” Claire confessed.

“I promise I’ll be gentle.” Although she had every reason to not believe him, she did.

“Can we please go home to a nice soft bed?” He quietly stood and helped Claire to her feet. She took the hand he offered and walked back to the car. This time, she got in willingly.

When they pulled up to the house, Claire leaned over. “I really want this, but please be gentle.”

He parked, walked around to her door, and helped her out of the car. They walked up the front steps hand in hand, where only a few hours ago, had been the scene of her hysterics. When he opened the door, he scooped Claire into his arms. Instead of going up to her suite, he carried her to
his
room. While he held her, she closed her eyes and nuzzled his neck. The aroma of his skin and cologne intoxicated her.