ever after
Claire is so tired.
As she lies down on the couch she remembers the first time she ever did this, waiting for Jack, down in a dark well of sleep until he woke her. Hey, Sleeping Beauty, he'd teased.
She'd thought he might kiss her, like the Prince in the fairy tale, but no. Not then.
But fairy tales are lies. There's no happy-ever-after, no Prince Charming. By the time I worked that out it was too late.
So tired it makes her nauseous, Claire closes her eyes. Sharp pain in her left arm makes her gasp.
Hey, Sleeping Beauty.