Chapter 82 82

Chapter 82 82
I was taken aback as the hand gently touched my waist. My entire body tensed, and I immediately spun around, completely ready to tell whoever it was to back off, but the words died in my throat when I saw who it was.

It was Wilson!

The same Wilson who had saved my life two weeks ago in the Dead Zone. The same young man who had fought off five men single-handedly to protect me, and had walked away without asking for anything in return.

“What was he doing here?” I thought to myself. “And more importantly, why was his arm around my waist?” I couldn't help but wonder.

"Did I keep you waiting?" Wilson asked, looking at me with those same calm, steady eyes I remembered from the hospital. But I could have sworn that there was something else there now, a subtle hint of something I couldn't quite place my fingers on.

"I'm so sorry. I was caught up with something." He said further, and then he winked at me.

That wink. It was small and quick, but it was definitely all I needed to understand what was going on presently. Wilson had somehow figured out that I was in a difficult situation, and he was offering me a way out. He wanted me to play along.

My brain, which had been stuck in a fog of shock and anger since seeing Clara, suddenly kicked back into gear. This was a lifeline, an escape route I desperately needed out of this horrible confrontation that was drawing way too much attention.

I took a breath and forced a smile onto my face. "Oh no, it's fine. I haven't been waiting too long." I replied, my voice coming out steadier than I expected. "I was just a bit delayed by... her."

I gestured vaguely in Clara's direction, not even bothering to look at her directly. I could feel her eyes burning into me, and I could equally sense her confusion and frustration at this unexpected development.

Wilson followed my gesture, his eyes landing on Clara for the first time. His expression remained neutral, and politely curious. "Oh? And who is this?"

"Nobody," I said quickly, perhaps a bit too quickly, but it didn’t really matter because she wasn't even worth my time. "She's nobody important. I was actually just about to head inside."

Wilson nodded as if what I said made perfect sense, as if random women who were "nobody important" regularly stopped people at restaurant entrances. His arm remained gently, but firmly placed around my waist, a silent show of support and protection.

Clara, who had been standing there in shocked silence since Wilson appeared, finally found her voice. "Wait, Claire, who is—"

I didn't let her finish. I cleared my throat, cutting her off. I couldn't stand to hear her voice anymore. And I definitely couldn't bear to engage with her for even one more second. I gently caught Wilson by the arm, preparing to guide us both into the restaurant and away from this nightmare of an encounter.

"Ms. Claire?"

Jennifer Martinez's voice cut through the tension like a knife. She was standing in the doorway of the restaurant, looking between me, Wilson, and Clara with obvious confusion written all over her face. "Is anything the matter? I was beginning to worry when you didn't come in."

"Oh no, Jennifer," I said, grateful for yet another interruption. "Everything is fine. We were just coming in now."

I emphasized the word "we," making it clear that Wilson was with me, and that we were together. I tightened my hold on Wilson's arm slightly, and to his credit, he didn't flinch or pull away. He just stood there calmly, playing along with whatever scenario I was creating.

Without another word to Clara, and without even a backward glance, I walked forward with Wilson at my side. We moved past Clara, who was still standing there looking like she'd been slapped, her mouth hanging open slightly as she tried to process what had just happened.

Jennifer held the door open for us, and as we stepped inside the restaurant, I felt the cool air conditioning hit my flushed face. The change in temperature was a relief, but it did nothing to calm the racing of my heart or the swirl of emotions churning in my stomach.

"This way," Jennifer said, leading us toward the table by the window she'd mentioned earlier. "I already have everything set up for our meeting."

As we walked through the restaurant, I was acutely aware of Wilson's presence beside me, of his hand still resting lightly on my lower back in a gesture that looked intimate to anyone watching. I knew I should probably let go of his arm and probably explain what was happening before he came to my rescue, but I couldn't seem to make my fingers cooperate.

We reached the table and Jennifer gestured for us to sit. I finally released Wilson's arm and slid into one of the chairs.

Wilson, without being asked, took the seat next to me rather than across from me, continuing to play the role of my companion, as he whispered into my ears, “She's still watching. I might have to keep up with the act. Hope you don't mind?”

I shook my head slowly in response.

Thankfully Jennifer didn't notice the communication between Wilson and I because she was focused on a message which came into her phone at that point in time.

She soon sat across from us, pulling out her tablet and several folders of information. But before she could launch into her presentation, she looked between Wilson and me with a slightly apologetic expression.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize you'd be bringing someone with you to the meeting, Ms. Claire," she said. "Raymond didn't mention it to me either. If I had known, I would have prepared materials for both of you."

"Oh, that's—" I started, not sure what to say exactly.

"That's perfectly alright," Wilson interjected smoothly. "I'm just here for moral support. Claire is the one making the decisions."

His voice was calm and confident, as if this was the most natural thing in the world. As if we hadn't just helped me to escape an uncomfortable situation. He acted as though this was exactly what he was born for. It was as if he showed up at random restaurants to rescue women from their past all the time.

Jennifer smiled, seeming satisfied with this explanation. "Well, that's very sweet of you. It's always nice when partners support each other's business endeavors."

Partners. The word hung in the air between us. I wanted to correct her, but I just couldn't. I thought about explaining to her that Wilson and I weren't exactly partners in that sense, and that we barely knew each other, that this whole thing was just a coincidence, but before I could open my mouth, I felt Wilson's hand gently touch mine under the table, a silent message to just let it go.

He was right. Correcting Jennifer would only make things more complicated, and it would require explanations I wasn't ready to give. It was easier to just let her think what she wanted to think.

"Shall we get started?" Jennifer asked, tapping on her tablet to bring up the first property listing.

"Actually," I said, my voice coming out a bit shakier than I'd intended. "Could you give us just a moment? I need to... I need to speak with my..." I trailed off, not sure what to call Wilson.

"Your boyfriend?" Jennifer supplied helpfully with a warm smile still on her face.