Chapter 117

Adrian

The lunch I had with Michael and Gregory has come and gone. They have left the parking lot while I have remained, residing in the silence that has overtaken my body in mind after Clara issue a threat towards me inside of the restaurant.

What could she have possibly meant by a problem arising if I continue to ignore her? What does the woman have planned?

It leaves me feeling uneasy, my core rattled, and my mind wandering as I begin to think of many different options that she could take. Stella would have all of the answers. She would have told me exactly what to do by now, how to combat Clara's vague threat, and where I need to take my life from this point.

But Stella is not here. She has made it abundantly clear that I am no longer a part of her life, even though she remains a part of mine.

I try my best to look at the situation at hand as objectively as possible. Clara knows a lot of information, and that is nobody's fault, but my own. She knows a lot of my dark and dirty secrets, the emotional affair that I had with her while I was married with Stella, the contract that Stella signed as a way for me to save her.

How would the public response to something like this? How would they respond to the fact that I allowed my wife, a woman that I didn't love at the time, to be experimented on because I was still hung up on her sister, who sacrificed her life for me by taking a bullet from the mob?

Will they even be away for me to escape the publicity nightmare that it is sure to cause? I was barely able to come back from the brink of destruction when the angel investor from before dropped out, plummeting me into debt, so this will be sure to obliterate everything that I have built from the ground up all over again.

Should I call Clara? Should I ask her what she means, to seek out the clarity that I need in order to move on with my day?

No. That is one of the worst ideas that I could ever come up with. It will only cause more problems than it will to solve any.

I pick up my phone, allowing my fingers to move through my contacts, pressing on Stella's name without second thought. The dial tone from the call ring softly within my ear, the call, not immediately dropping like it used to do. After a while, though, the college dropped, and I am sent to Stella's voicemail.

A sigh leaves my lips and I lose my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose. I should have known that Stella wouldn't answer.

I look up from my phone and turn my face to the side, the afternoon sunlight making my skin feel warm. Just out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Clara and her parents walking by my car. They laugh and smile with each other, acting as if they are a normal family who did not ruin Stella and I’s life.

I quickly get out of the car, phone in hand as I kick the door shut behind me. My feet move me across the cement of the parking lot, the soles of my shoes, scraping against the floor, as I quickly catch up to them and the expensive, white painted car that they drive.

“Clara!” I call out from behind.

Clara and her parents stop in their track, slowly turning around. Clara’s blue eyes land on mine and a smile spreads across her face. I do not smile back. All I do is cross the small distance and stop just a few feet away from her, not wanting to give her a chance to physically hurt me if her promise of that nature.

“Oh, hi Adrian! Do you need something?” Clara’s voice is sickeningly sweet. It makes my teeth ache, my stomach flipping in on itself as nausea takes over my body.

How can somebody act so normal, so sweet and kind, despite being a horrible person on the inside? How does the world not know that Clara has lied about being sick, has forced my hands and made me make decisions that I would never make with a rational mind? The world deserves to know what kind of a person Clara is, but I digress.

“Did you or your parents forge a consent form?” the question is quick off of my tongue, my mouth firing it at them before I can even think.

A look a confusion flashes across their faces. They look between each other, the parents looking notably panicked in comparison to Clara. I turned my attention towards them, ignoring the way Clara tries to align herself with my line of vision.

“Did you forge a consent form? Did you forge my signature? Did you create a consent form that would've signed away Stella's heart to give to Clara?” I step forward, my questions, harsh, and straight to the point.

Clara's parents look visibly scared. A bit of sweat rolls down her father's forehead while her mother clutches the pearls around her neck, rolling the small white bead between her fingers.

“Why would it matter if they did or not?” Clara asks, crossing her arms over her chest. “It is not like we’re in your life anymore. You made sure of that.”

“And you’ll make sure to come right back into it,” I shoot back before turning my attention back towards her parents. “You knew that it would've killed her and you did it anyways. How cruel are you?”

Without saying another word, Clara’s parents turn around and walk away, their silence answering the question for me. Their silence just confirmed that they did for it.

How could they hold? No love or positive feelings towards their foster daughter? Do they not realize the weight of life holds?

“I needed her heart, Adrian, I would've died without it,” Clara, who stayed behind, speaks at me. I don't look at her. “my parents did what they needed to do. You would do the same if you had a kid.”

“How could you do that to Stella? She already gave you so much of her body when you were in a coma, are you really that selfish to take her hard as well?” I ask, finally turning to look at the honey blonde haired woman.

Clara crosses her arms across her chest. She narrowed her eyes at me and takes a single step forward, the tip of her shoe dragging across the asphalt. The sound of the scrape since chills down my spine.

“Stella knew her role when she joined our family,” her voice is firm yet there's an underlying sadistic message to it, “she knew exactly what she was getting into.”

“She was just a kid,” I respond. “how could a kid make a choice like that?”

“Stella knew exactly what they're worth was. She knew her place in our family, that she was simply a bag of spare parts, whether she was aware of it or not. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go,” Clara turns on her heel, her hair flying over her shoulder, and she walks away, leaving me with nothing but the shattered fragments of Stella’s childhood in my hands.