Chapter 126

Adrian

The past few days have been like torture for me. I have not been able to contact Stella, my number clearly haven't been blocked by Sebastian on her phone, and the threat that Clara issued to me remains on the back of my mind. It feels like I have not been able to rest ever since my mother and I left that restaurant together, Clara's bright blue eyes following us as we left.

I kind of expected to receive a phone call or a text message from her but nothing has come from her. Clara has been surprisingly quiet ever since her silent threat was issued to me. My phone has not rung once, nor has it received any kind of message from the blonde haired woman.

Is she waiting for me to make a move? Is Clara thinking that I will give to her desperate plea for help? To show her the attention that she's so desperately craves?

No, I will not do it. I refuse to do it. I refuse to give into her and her childish and dramatic antics.

What if she is hurt though? What if she needs help? I just can't ignore somebody who is in need, I know it is my fatal flaw, especially when it comes to her and Stella.

I stare at my phone that sits on the side table. My hands are folded in front of my face, my foot rapidly tapping against the floor. My hands are sweaty, and my stomach is in knots, my mind, barely able to keep up with the idea that I am actually going to call Claire right here right now in this moment.

I reach out from my phone, bringing it to me. Just inside of the contacts, Clara's name sits at the top of the list. It has always been there, never moving, even after I decided to carve her out of my life.

I press on her name, the screen going black as the call begins to go through. I bring the phone to my ear and listen to the quiet sound of the dial tone, unable to bring myself to hang up despite my mind screaming at me that this is a horrible idea.

The call drops. My heart studies just for a brief moment, but I know that this is just the beginning, that Clara most likely wants me to be the one to reach out multiple times, so she gets the satisfaction of her winning this battle she has built up on the inside of her head.

I decide not to call her again, but to text her. I moved to our messages and stare at the last few texts that Clara had sent me.

Clara: Answer me Adrian! Stop ignoring me!

Clara: You’re such a piece of shit for doing this to me! I hate you!

Clara: Please ignore the last few messages. I was really angry and I never should have taken it out on you.

Clara: Please, Adrian. I miss you. I need to hear your voice.

Clara: Fine. Be that way. If you really don’t want to see me, then I’ll disappear forever! You’ll regret this choice, asshole!

I wince at her messages, unable to bring myself to read any more of them. They are all just so heavy, the woman placing all of the blame of her sorrows and problems on me and Stella because we were somehow the ones who ruined her life despite Clara being the one to constantly lie and trick people into thinking that she was sick and needed the constant help and aid.

I suck in a breath and allow my fingers to move across the phone’s keyboard, slowly typing in a message. I stare at the words, unsure if this is the right move to make. I close my eyes, hoping that this message does not begin a war that I have to fight on my own.

I listen to the sound of the message’s whoosh, opening my eyes to see it be sent to Clara.

Adrian: If you want to talk, then let’s talk. Call me.

Clara: We’re sorry. The Number you are trying to reach is no longer in service. If you think this is a mistake, please contact your provider.

I blink at the screen, unable to comprehend what the message means. I sent another text just to receive the same message like before. Did Clara turn her phone off? What happened to her?

This leaves me with more unanswered questions than before. I moved through my phone and find her father's cell phone number, instantly pressing on his name before bringing the phone back up to my head.

I wait in agony, unable to break the tension that has formed inside of my room, and can only hope that there is good news on the other end of the call instead of bad. When the call is finally picked up, my heart skips to beat, anticipation budding from within the depths of my stomach.

“Hello?” Clara’s father’s voice is quiet and sounds exhausted. His voice is hoarse as if he has been crying for the past couple of hours.

“It’s me, Adrian,” I speak into the phone, sitting up in my chair. “I tried to contact Clara but it said that her phone was turned off and is out of service.”

“That is because it got destroyed,” her father sighs. I raise an eyebrow at his words, uneasiness settling into my bones.

“What do you mean by that?” I ask. From the background of the call, I can hear Clara’s mother weep and sob, begging for Clara to wake up.

My body runs cold. The familiar sounds of the hospital fill into my ear as her father speaks, his voice barely registering in the back of my head. I stare into the nothingness of my room and try to get my body to leave its state of shock.

“What’s going on?” I ask, unsure if this is just another one of Clara’s dirty tricks she wants to pull on me again or if this is something actually serious and worth my time.

“Clara has never hurt herself like this before in the past,” her father says with a shaky sigh. “She took the whole bottle, Adrian, and left a note. Thankfully we found her in time.”

My body runs cold from his words. I have never even thought that Clara would actually do something like this. I had always thought that her threats were empty and we're just a desperate plea for shallow attention and nothing more.

Did Clara really hurt herself? Did Clara truly think that suicide is the only way out of the situation that she finds herself in?

I do not know many people with depression, but I do know that it drives people to do crazy and outlandish things, to take drastic measures in order to achieve their goal. A lot of people who have tried to kill themselves, often say that they didn't see any other way out of the pain and sadness that they felt, that death was the only way to truly feel at peace in their life.

I hate to say it, but there is a part of my mind that knows that this is just another trick, that there is no need for me to worry that Clara is an immediate danger. I know that it is a long shot, but I am willing to take the risk that I am wrong when it comes to this, and if I am wrong, then I will be sure to apologize.

“I’ll be there soon,” I breathe into the phone, hanging up.