Chapter 8 - Chloe Came to Rosewood
Chloe arrived at Rosewood on a Thursday in October.
Claire nearly asked security to remove her.
Then remembered Rosewood did not have security.
Historic charm had disadvantages.
Chloe stood in the lobby carrying one small bag.
No glamour.
No executive clothes.
She looked nervous.
Rebecca found Claire in the office.
“There’s a woman downstairs who says she knows you.”
“Describe her.”
“Pretty. Terrified. Looks like she might vomit.”
Claire knew.
“I’ll handle it.”
Chloe stood when Claire entered.
“Hi.”
Claire did not return it.
“What are you doing here?”
“I asked Nathan for your address.”
Claire’s expression changed.
“He didn’t give it.”
Good.
“I found Rosewood online.”
Less good.
“What do you want?”
“To apologize.”
Claire almost laughed.
“You came two years too late.”
“I know.”
“Then?”
Chloe swallowed.
“I’m moving to Seattle tomorrow.”
“Congratulations.”
“I needed to say it once without a lawyer or HR.”
Claire stared.
Then gestured toward the empty library.
Ten minutes.
That was all.
Chloe sat.
“I was in love with Nathan.”
Claire said nothing.
“He wasn’t in love with me.”
“I know.”
That surprised Chloe.
“You do?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Because if he had been, he would have left me before touching you.”
Chloe looked down.
“I thought he would.”
There it was.
The fantasy.
“He confided in me.”
“Yes.”
“He complained about the marriage.”
“Yes.”
“He said you didn’t understand the pressure he was under.”
Claire’s jaw tightened.
Nathan had admitted that.
Still ugly to hear.
“I thought I understood him better.”
“Maybe you did for a while.”
Chloe looked surprised by the generosity.
Claire continued.
“That did not make what you did acceptable.”
“No.”
Chloe explained what happened after the office investigation.
Northstar did not prosecute over the forwarded materials because the evidence showed she sent documents to a recruiter while exploring employment, not directly to a competitor for money.
Still serious.
She resigned.
Lost much of her professional reputation in Chicago.
Started over with a smaller hotel group.
Then therapy.
Apparently everyone had discovered therapy.
“I realized something.”
Claire waited.
“I liked being chosen by a powerful man.”
At least she was honest.
“I told myself it meant I was special.”
Claire said nothing.
“But he never chose me.”
Chloe’s eyes filled.
“And the night you walked in, I remember thinking about you.”
“That’s generous.”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“I remember being angry at you.”
Claire stared.
“Why?”
“Because when Nathan saw you, he forgot I was in the room.”
That landed unexpectedly.
Chloe continued.
“I had spent months thinking I mattered because he gave me attention. Then you walked in and I saw what I actually was.”
Claire almost felt sorry for her.
Almost.
“I kissed him first.”
“I know.”
“He didn’t stop me.”
“I know.”
“I’m sorry.”
Claire nodded.
Not forgiveness.
Acknowledgment.
Then Chloe pulled an envelope from her bag.
Claire’s anniversary card.
The one from the insulated dinner bag.
“To five years…and all the years after.”
Claire stopped breathing.
“Where did you get that?”
“Nathan left the dinner bag in the office.”
Her voice shook.
“I found the card after he chased you downstairs.”
Claire stared.
“You kept it?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
That answer angered Claire more than anything else.
“You kept my anniversary card?”
“I think I wanted proof.”
“Of what?”
Chloe cried.
“That there had been something real between you.”
Claire stood.
The meeting was over.
Chloe immediately rose.
“I’m sorry.”
Claire took the envelope.
“Go.”
Chloe did.
No hug.
No redemption.
No friendship.
Outside, Claire opened the card.
Her own handwriting.
The words she wrote before her marriage ended.
To five years…and all the years after.
She cried in the empty library.
Then did something unexpected.
She called Nathan.
Not about Lily.
About the card.
“Did you know Chloe had it?”
“No.”
“She brought it.”
Silence.
“I’m sorry.”
Claire laughed through tears.
“I’m tired of that sentence.”
“I know.”
Then Nathan said:
“I kept the tart.”
Claire stopped crying.
“What?”
“The black cherry tart.”
“You’re lying.”
“I put it in the freezer.”
“For two years?”
“No. It became disgusting.”
Despite herself, Claire laughed.
Nathan continued.
“I kept the container.”
“Why?”
“Because I deserved to remember what I forgot.”
That was Nathan.
Still capable of symbolism.
Still dramatic.
But different.
Then Claire asked the question she had avoided for two years.
“Do you still love me?”
Nathan was silent for a long time.
“Yes.”
No speech.
No pressure.
Just yes.
Claire closed her eyes.
“I still love you too.”
Nathan inhaled.
Then Claire added:
“That doesn’t mean anything happens.”
May you like
“I know.”
And for once, he truly did.
