Chapter 67

How could I not have imagined that they loved me so much that they would sacrifice their feelings to see me well?

I freeze, feeling the tears fall, but they aren’t tears of sadness; they’re tears of relief, of love—this love that has never let me give up and shows me that I will never be alone. That, no matter how painful it may be to leave one day, I still had the pleasure of receiving the noblest feelings from both of them. There’s no doubt, a choice made for protection. I look at my father, then at Jack, and both are tense, with expressions of concern. Breaking all this, I simply smile.

"I love you both! I’m grateful you thought of me first, so I could enjoy a long life, but you forgot the most important thing. No one lives well if they feel alone. Even though I had you, Dad, my heart is broken to lose the only person I’ve loved so much, the same way I love you." I wipe my eyes with my right hand, drying the tears, while theirs remain misty. "It doesn’t matter how much time I have, I just want to live it happily, and I don’t need more days, I just want you to love me while I’m here."

With passion, Jack moves toward me and devours my lips. His wet tongue demands entry, finding mine. Our lips twist in a slow, hot kiss, full of meaning. I place my hands on his strong chest while his arms wrap around my waist. I missed his taste, the way his mouth sucks on mine, the intensity and the fire of passion that flows between our bodies. I forget everything—the fact that my father is here, the thousands of broken pieces of my heart that in this moment seem to beat uncontrollably.

Dior rolls at our feet on the floor. We smile with our lips still pressed together and admire each other for a few seconds. When we finish, I approach my father, who kisses the top of my head.

"You will always be my daughter, my baby, the one I held in my arms night after night, the one I put to bed, the one I took to the park every night to look at the stars."

"Dad, just because I grew up doesn’t mean I’m not your daughter anymore. I’ll always be. You’re the best dad in the world." He begins to cry heavily, leaving me devastated.

"Did I say something wrong? Why are you sad?"

Dazed, he shakes his head, and I stroke his hair, trying to soothe him.

"I would never be disappointed in you. Of course, I’m sad about everything I’ve suffered in these past days, but I understand your choice."

"Your dad is emotional; we were really afraid you’d be hurt," Jack warns, and I hug my father tightly, making him smile.

"Are you friends now? Do you accept me being with Jack, Dad?" Quickly, he swallows his tears and raises an eyebrow.

"Friends, no. Don’t exaggerate, Clayre, but I’m willing to understand."

"This is amazing." I kiss his cheek and run to Jack.

I grab his waist and rest my face against his chest, relieved.

"Jack..."

"Clayre..."

We smile together, and I lift my face to gaze at him.

"I went back home that day in the rain, and since then, every day has been hard. Inside, I was hoping you felt like I did, destroyed. After much thought, I decided to hate you; I wanted to control my feelings, shape them my way, but Jack, I was being naive, because once I discovered the whole truth, my heart began to beat in the same rhythm as yours." He gently presses his forehead against mine and pulls me into his lap.

I intertwine my legs around his waist, and his warm breath touches my skin.

"Clayre, I was living in an endless winter. Every day, I froze a little more, but knowing I could receive your mother's bone marrow was what kept me steady, with that flame burning, contained but still alive. However, this time has allowed me to confirm that yes, you are the love of my life. I never doubted it, but now, I just want to spend every day by your side."

I kiss his lips, moved, as our bodies exchange warmth.

Holding back the longing for my father’s presence, Jack sets me down and they look at each other intently, as if keeping a big secret. However, now, we’re free to love, even though I’m still hurting from losing any connection with my mother.

I need to live.

***

POV Jack

After an intense night where I had to suppress all the anger I felt from discovering what Liana had done to her own daughter, we had a calm dinner. Obviously, I couldn’t quench my longing for Clayre, nor devour her with kisses, nor feel her body against mine. After all, Gerald insisted on going to the bar with me again. The conversation was distant, secretive, but thinking of a greater good. I had to agree with him not to reveal that Liana isn’t Clayre's biological mother, but why exactly did I agree to that?

I think, deep down, I imagined myself in her place, thinking about the heartbreak, the part of life she would consider a fraud, the fear of learning about her blood family, or why her biological father had the courage to give her away to a stranger. Beyond the big unknown and the pain she had carried all these years, seeking approval. Did her mother really die during childbirth? So many doubts, flooding her with all of them seemed like a punishment. Gerald managed to find out Clayre's surname during the night, and it’s "Ballard."

When Liana confessed her first name to me, it was inevitable not to feel the strong connection Clayre has with the stars and how looking at them calms her mind. An unconscious projection of the past, which stayed alive and intense in her heart. We researched the family and discovered that the father committed suicide after being admitted to a psychiatric clinic, the brother, now 28, is a pilot, and the mother, surprising all our expectations, is alive and works as a nurse in the hospital where Clayre was hospitalized.

A completely different life from the one she lived in Charleston, with a seemingly loving mother in photos with her older son. Gerald’s tears mixed with the entire bottle of whiskey he drank out of fear of losing the only daughter he thought he had in life. I can’t imagine something so devastating, in his words, I felt that in his eyes, he hadn’t been a good father, because at times he would say things like, "What if she forgets about me when she learns about her family?"

I didn’t believe that and didn’t know what to respond, but now I’m faced with the only plausible alternative: talk to her mother and find out if she believes her daughter died that day. I now face the hospital where she was hospitalized for days. I climb the stairs until I reach the reception.

"Good morning, what do you need?" the receptionist asks, smiling.

"I wanted to check the compatibility test results I did with Clayre Freburg for a bone marrow donation." I had taken the test a day after rejecting her, hoping to be compatible.

"Sure, what’s your name?"

"Jack Bourbon."

"Ah yes, the result is available in the oncology department. You can go down the hallway, and Nurse Emma Ballard will attend to you."

To my surprise, this was the person I was looking for—Clayre’s mother. I feel anxious, breathing deeply as I walk to the location. Gerald didn’t have the strength to do this, and me? Well, I’m uncertain, but I’ll never let the opportunity to save her slip away.

I approach the glass door, and an elderly woman in all white is facing away from me. Her straw-colored blonde hair is tied in a bun on top of her head, and as she turns, she smiles warmly. Her face is delicate, her skin mature with age, white, her eyes are green like Clayre’s, and her smile is the same.

"Damn, it’s her mother."

Her calm and serene voice brings me back to reality.

"Good morning, you’re Jack, right? Have a seat, the doctor gave me the result a week ago. We were waiting for you to come. Your attitude of wanting to help your girlfriend is beautiful," she compliments as I sit in the chair in front of her.

"Wait…" I affirm while memories of Clayre’s hospitalization return to my mind. "Wasn’t it you who did the transfusion for my girlfriend?"

"Yes, that was me. I remember her well, was she blonde? With green eyes? With a sad look?" I nod. "She told me something that stuck with me, so I couldn’t forget."

"What did she say?"

"She said she wanted to die to end everyone’s conflicts."

My chest hurts, and I squeeze my eyes shut. "I gave her some advice, and then she told me she would have loved to have a mother like me. Anyway... my foolishness." She turns her back, opening the envelope, and perhaps this is the opening I needed.

I decide to encourage her to keep talking.