Page 55 of Fight or Flight
Then he looks back at me and says, “I just gave him a chance. And I have a feeling I won’t regret doing that. The question is, will you do the same?”
He stands up with the help of his cane and goes back to his guests and Jenny when she starts to unwrap the received gifts for the baby. She catches my eye mid-laugh when she lifts a little pink dress and waves me over with a soft expression on her face.
I join the party and notice that no one eyes me any differently, even after my outburst. Those people accepted me as a new member of their makeshift family.
They have given me a chance.
Maybe now it’s time I do the same for Aidan—one chance. And maybe I will be able to finally stop running.
CHAPTER XIX
AIDAN
There’s a knock on my door, but I don’t react, my eyes glued to the half-finished project of Brody and Jenny’s bedroom. When another knock follows soon after, I begrudgingly lift my head, just now realizing that Tommy left the apartment about an hour ago, so he’s not here to open it.
After I got my assigned temporary shelter place from Sandra, it wasn’t long until I started to search for a better place to live. The low rent was definitely a plus in there, but that wasn’t enough to wash over the fact that it was a stinky dump filled with ex-cons. The people were either trying to get out of there and turn their life back around as soon as possible, or doing shit that would surely get them back inside within weeks.
So, I was happy to get out of it when Tommy announced he was looking for a roommate. The apartment we rented is small, and it’s placed in one of the shadier parts of Madison, but both of us are struggling with cash, so as long as it has a working bathroom, a place to store food, and a bed, we’re all set.
On my way to the door, I glance at the calendar hanging on the fridge and have to stifle a groan. Today is the parole check-up day. Which means it’s probably Sandra at the door.
I actually like the woman, and I know as far as parole officers go, it could’ve been much worse for me. Some social workers can be real assholes, trying to sabotage you at each step. But Sandra is... well, she’s definitely not an asshole. But I do have to trudge carefully around her. The thing is, I’m not interested in what she wants from me, but I don’t want to downright shoot her down in case she takes it the wrong way and becomes vindictive.
A middle-aged horny woman with issues, in my case, can mean spending the next two decades back in jail.
I check the apartment with a critical eye, noticing how untidy it is but obviously not seeing anything that could be considered incriminating in site, and open the door after the third knock comes.
“Hey, sorry about the wait... Claire?” I stare at the woman who’s been occupying my mind ever since the barbecue at Brody’s last week. Her harsh words still bouncing around my mind, cutting deeper and deeper each time I recall our conversation.
She honestly looks great, and for the life of me, I can’t stop my eyes from checking her out. Dressed in a simple floral dress that highlights her soft feminine shape in all the right places, her hair is swept to the side, with the curled ends falling to her shoulder.
Claire smiles at me for the first time since we were teenagers, and I have to stop my hand from going to my chest when my heart squeezes painfully in longing.
There’s no sight of the cruel woman from the last time, and my stupid heart instantly picks up speed as my hopes rise again.
She also looks more healthy; the color is back in her cheeks, and her eyes have that little mischievous twinkle in them that I even forgot I missed for all these years.