Chapter Nine:
A few days later, Spring Break has officially ended for all the Fraser girls. Faith and Brianna have returned to school, and Claire's gone back to the hospital.
She'd met up with Frank for lunch on Monday, him bringing her their favorite Thai food and eating outside the hospital. It was the only time she'd been able to see him since he picked them up from the airport between spending time with Jamie and avoiding everyone like the plague. She'd barely been able to get through her meal, remorse gnawing at her insides.
"Are you alright, love?" he asked, draping his arm over her shoulder.
They sat under her favorite magnolia tree, providing just enough shade to keep them cool in the warm spring heat.
Frank leaned in, his nose nudging against her cheek and pulling her from her thoughts.
She smiled, tentatively pressing her lips to his. She doesn't want him to know something is wrong before she has a chance to gather her thoughts and break up with him, but the feel of his lips on her now make her feel uncomfortable. She pulled back almost as quickly, smiling tightly at him.
Claire hated this. Hated the feeling of betrayal to Jamie, but also feeling as if she were betraying Frank with her husband. She had feelings for Frank, real feelings, and she knew it was unfair to just assume they'd up and disappear simply because Jamie came back to life.
Her hand cupped his cheek, allowing her mind to quiet as he leaned in again, his lips melting against hers momentarily.
She whimpered into the embrace, the emotions of the last week spilling out. "Frank," she breathed, pulling away.
He smiled, obviously thinking her whimper was a good sound. His hand landed on her knee, whispering how he could come over tonight. "I know it's too late to get a babysitter," he amended, "but we could have a nice glass of wine after the girls go to sleep, make out a little on the couch."
He grinned, and she couldn't help the awkward half-giggle it drew from her. God, this was so hard.
But she knew Jamie would be coming over tonight, so she bit her lip, trying to keep the emotions from her own face and praying her glass face didn't give her away.
"I have to be up early for work," she lied with a shrug, "but I can come over tomorrow, just the two of us." She chastely pecked his lips to punctuate her sentence, and he smiled, his hand rubbing gently on her thigh.
His hand moved higher, and she pushed his hand gently away, admonishing, "Frank, we're in public."
Her eyes darted to the pair of nurses on the next bench, chatting amicably about their days, then over to the old man by the trash can smoking his cigarette.
He leaned in, kissing her neck. "So?" he breathed, "No one is looking."
She scoffed out a laugh, but as his hand rose higher, more insistent, she put her foot down, swatting his hand away and pulling back from his embrace. "Frank."
"Fine," he sighed, smiling sweetly, though she could tell he was irritated. She knew seven months was a long time to wait to have sex, especially when he's had feelings for her for so much longer, but now that Jamie's back, she's more than glad she never slept with him. "You coming over tomorrow sounds great." He smiled again, pecking her cheek this time. "Can't wait, love."
Smiling, she spent the rest of her lunch date with thoughts of her boyfriend and her husband swirling in her mind. She barely heard whatever Frank was saying, all the while planning what to say to him at dinner when she inevitably broke his heart.
She's been keeping in contact with Jamie, not seeing him during the daytime over the past two days has been hard, but he's come over both nights for dinner, respectfully leaving once the girls have been tucked into bed—mainly due to the fact that he had a curfew and the safe house was an hour away from Claire's, more if there was traffic, which, being Atlanta, there always was.
After bedtime, she and Jamie had spent time in the kitchen or living room talking and hanging out as if they were dating again, getting to know each other once more after all this time. She's loved every moment of it, no matter how badly she wants Jamie, it's been fun and flirty spending time with him like this. It makes her feel like they are young college kids all over again, and the butterflies in her stomach just won't seem to leave—not that she wants them to.
They held hands and flirted, but nothing more. Nothing since their one and only kiss that effectively freaked her out when she was rushed with reminders of Frank. She knows she needs to end things with him before she and Jamie can do more, it just wouldn't be right, and Jamie understands that.
She would have done it sooner, but between her shift at the hospital and wanting Jamie to come over both evenings, she hadn't had a night to go over to Frank's and end things. It's only been a few days since Jamie landed in Georgia, and she has to remind herself of that constantly when she feels as if it's been weeks since he got here and she's been dragging this break up out unnecessarily.
Frank has been asking to come over, and she's aware he knows something is wrong. They haven't seen each other in the five days she and the girls have been back, save for the day he picked them up from the airport and their one lunch date she'd agreed to. She hadn't wanted to break up with him over lunch since they were in public, which is why she agreed to the dinner, knowing doing it in the privacy of one of their homes would be better, more respectful to Frank and the pain she would cause him.
She spends the rest of her workday avoiding as many coworkers as possible, knowing they'll want to hear about her vacation and she's not sure if she can lie to that many people. It had been hard enough yesterday and Tuesday on her shifts, but Wednesdays were her favorite days, her favorite nurses were on call, and she hadn't had a chance to catch up with them yet.
Joe can obviously tell something is wrong and asks her what's up on their lunch break. "You still jet-lagged? You've been quiet this week."
Nodding, she swallows a sip of her coffee. "Yeah, I didn't realize how much the whole thing would wear me out."
"Hm," he grunts, eyeing her up suspiciously. "You sure that's it, Lady Jane? You seem awfully distracted by that phone today."
He's grinning at her, and she fights the urge to smile right back, saying she's waiting to hear from Frank. "I texted him earlier to see if he wanted to have dinner. I've only seen him twice since we got back."
Joe grunts again, rolling his eyes slightly at the mention of her boyfriend. "Here I thought you'd run off and gotten yourself a Spanish fling, making you realize Frank was a tool."
"Joe," she scoffs, unable to help the little chuckle that leaves her lips. Her best friend was never Frank's biggest fan. "If you must know, the trip did help me put some things into perspective."
He sits up straighter at that, leaning into the table as his elbows slide against the wooden surface. "Oh yeah?"
She worries her lips, taking another sip of coffee and a bite of her sandwich, deliberately chewing slowly to rile him up. She smirks around her bite as she watches him fidget, rolling his eyes at her when he realizes what she's doing.
Clearing her throat once she's swallowed, she sits back, her finger trailing along the rim of her mug. "I think I just realized that Frank isn't the man I'm supposed to be with."
She watches as Joe attempts oh so desperately not to shout with glee, the smile blossoming on his face unable to be quelled. "You're impossible," she laughs, rolling her eyes again.
"I'm sorry, LJ," he snickers, "I just think it's been six months too long, and I'm glad you're ending things. Do you need me to watch the girls tonight while you do it?"
Her breath catches in her throat, knowing Jamie had already more than eagerly agreed to do just that. She tells him she already has a babysitter, and he nods, the subject dropping after he declares, "Well you must tell me all about it tomorrow."
{***************************}
That night, Claire finds herself in Frank's kitchen, the silence between them almost deafening.
Their silverware clangs and scrapes along the porcelain plates, and she can hear his heavy breathing.
"Have you gotten enough sleep since Spain?" he finally asks, taking a sip of his wine. "I know you've been saying how tired you are."
Nodding, she says that she has and that it was nice to spend the last days of the girls' break with them.
He smiles at that, and she feels bad, knows the awkwardness tonight is all because of her, and Frank really does care about her children.
Once she's swallowed the last bite of her chicken, she sets the fork down, taking a deep breath. "Frank…"
His brown eyes find hers, the confusion already swimming in them at her tone.
"How about," he says, cutting her off as he slides his chair closer to hers. His hand lands on her thigh, squeezing gently, "we pick up where we left off the other day on our lunch date."
He leans in, pressing his lips to hers. She allows it briefly, letting him deepen it as his hand slides up her thigh, inching closer and closer to where she'd normally be wanting him. His hand flexes on her thigh, but she thinks of Jamie at home with the girls, which slams her back to reality faster than anything. "Frank," she says, panting as she pulls back. "We can't do this in the middle of the kitchen."
He grins, a coy little thing, saying he thinks they can. He reaches for the button on her jeans, and says, "Or we could always take this to my room," kissing her harshly between each of his words.
She scoffs unsurely at his insistence. The touching is nothing new, they've done it before, fingers slipping beneath hem lines, mouths bringing each other to orgasm, but she could never let them go all the way. Images of Jamie would always flash through her mind, especially in more intimate moments with Frank, effectively killing the mood.
His fingers toy with her denim, but she pushes on his shoulder, silently begging him to back off, wondering in the back of her mind why he's so much more insistent tonight. "Frank, I need to talk to you."
"Should I be worried?" he asks, pulling away and letting her sit up straighter in her chair. God, she feels so guilty, hates to do this with no good explanation. She doesn't want to hurt him but… she has to do this. He scoots his chair back to its place, his hand still resting on her knee. He smooths his hair down, and she smiles as his face softens. He was always so patient, never pushing her for more, until tonight for some reason, even though they both clearly wanted to go further.
Sighing, she gulps down the last of her wine, saying, "Spain was really good for me. It made me realize some things about my life."
"Like what?" he asks sincerely, reaching across the table to take her hand in his.
"Like the fact that I'm… not really…" She looks down at their hands, then back up to his face, grimacing, "happy... in this relationship."
He frowns, head tilting to the side. He looks confused and she understands. Things had been going really well for them before Spain, so this seems completely out of the blue, and God, she wishes she could just tell him the truth; he deserves that. He doesn't deserve… whatever this is.
"I just don't think I was really ready to date after all, Frank," she admits, reciting the words she'd practiced all throughout the day and on the ride over like a script. "You've been wonderful, and the girls adore you, but I… I just need some more time."
He pushes his chair back, standing abruptly as he begins to pace in front of the table. The sudden movement startles Claire, and she sits back in her chair, watching him. He looks angry, a fiery look she's never seen in his eyes before.
"Is there someone else?" he finally demands, his pacing stopping as he turns to look down sharply at her, hovering over where she sits.
"What?" She shakes her head vehemently, brows furrowing. "No. Why would you say that?"
Frank takes three calming breaths, a silent fury burning beneath the surface. It's awkward, she doesn't quite know what to do but to let him stew in his emotions, let him figure things out in his own mind. He sits back down with a shaky exhale, taking her hand in his. It's not as gentle as his touch normally is, and she wonders if that's on her part or his.
It's his, she decides, as she feels his thumbs pressing roughly into her skin. "You've seemed so distant lately. The one day I've seen you, you were checking your phone constantly. I'm not an idiot, Claire."
And no, no, he's not. His statement makes her feel even worse, because she knows she's been acting differently since Spain, how could she not be? But she can't truly explain it to him, so she sits, watching the anger flash across his face.
The way he spits her name doesn't sit right with her, an uncomfortable feeling growing in her gut, but she shakes her head again, saying, "It's not like that. I just don't think I'm ready for something so serious." She sighs, eyes closing before peeking open again. "It's been a great seven months, Frank, but I… I can't do this."
He stands unexpectedly again, this time his chair practically falling over. She watches as it teeters on its hind legs before wobbling back into its rightful place on the ground.
Her eyes flick to Frank, studying him as he paces. "I don't believe this," he mutters, almost so softly that she misses it, then he adds a, "don't believe you," that irrationally bothers her. His brows are pinched together, muttering something to himself under his breath, his hands balled into fists, and she wonders if he has a secret angry side she's never witnessed before. She thinks she hears a bitch uttered, too, but she can't know for sure. Why is he spiraling so much over this? She knows he loves her, sure, but this anger seems a bit much for the situation, and it puts Claire on edge. She knew he wouldn't take it well, but being angry enough to look as if he's going to hit her, or maybe a wall or something, seems a bit extreme and it worries her.
When she doesn't say anything else, he briskly steps closer to her, his jaw clenched as tightly as his fists while he hovers above her with a scowl on his face. She feels cornered, her fight or flight reflexes gearing up inside of her. Would he hit her? She doesn't think so, but the way his body is reacting to this breakup makes her think she can't be too sure. Her back is against the wall, and she curses herself for sitting in this particular chair.
He's snarling, one fist shaking, and he looks like he's contemplating his next move.
Her eyebrow cocks up, almost daring him to do something. How dare he fucking act like he wants to hit her. She's never seen him like this before and it angers her just as much. Before he can get any closer, she manages to press on his chest, muttering a, "Get out of my way," as she wriggles out from between his body and the wall, grabbing her purse off the kitchen counter.
"Goodbye, Frank," she spits, slinging her purse over her body as she turns on her heel to make her exit, her heart pounding in her ears the whole time.
Her eyes are swimming with tears, angry tears, not sad, and she's shaking, furious and beyond confused that he would react that violently to a breakup.
She stops briefly in the doorway of his kitchen, her hand lingering on the door jamb. "I'm truly sorry," she whispers, though now she's not sure why after that visceral reaction, and she leaves, slamming the door behind her and hoping it covers up the sound of her beating heart.
{*************************}
Her drive home is spent with the radio off, the silence of the car surrounding her as thoughts of what just happened fill her mind, spinning around and around like a bad ferris wheel that she can't get off of.
She knew Frank would be upset, but holy shit, what the fuck was that big of a reaction for? She's never seen him like that, and in the moment, it hadn't truly hit her just how dangerous he had seemed. Sure, he was mad and it confused her, but what if she'd said more? Talked back? She's honestly not sure now if she believes he wouldn't have gotten violent.
Shaking her head, and thankful she got out of there when she did, Claire opens the garage door, glad to be home.
When she pulls into her garage, she sits there a moment, collecting herself and taking deep, calming breaths. She refuses to go inside and see her daughters when she's still wound up like this.
The drive back from Frank's didn't help any, her heart pounding the whole time. She kept picturing his face, an anger she's never seen before, as if he were a whole new person. Those fists balled up simultaneously scared her but also pissed her off. If he had actually hit her, she's not sure what her natural response would be, though the urge to slap him right now tells her she would have fought back.
His Is there someone else? kept ringing the whole way home, her ears feeling as if cotton has been stuffed inside of them. Her face was hot, she didn't need a mirror to know it was flushed with anger.
Breathing out one more deep breath, she gathers her purse, kills the ignition and closes the garage door.
She pats her cool hands to her cheeks, hoping to abate some of the hot redness she feels there before she sees her family.
When she steps inside, the kitchen is empty, lights off except for the one above the stove, and it fills her with a familiar warmth. Jamie used to always leave the oven light on for her when she worked late, and the thought makes her happy. It's a comfortable familiarity between them, and she's missed that feeling. Never had it so deeply with Frank no matter how hard she tried to convince herself she did.
She slides her purse onto one of the hooks by the back door, meandering into the living room.
Jamie is on the couch with the girls, Faith's head in his lap, legs stretched across the couch asleep. Bree is curled into his chest, also asleep, her bum resting on Faith's back. His head is leaned back, mouth agape as he snores softly, and she snickers to herself at the sight, shaking her head as she pads gently into the room.
None of them can possibly be comfortable like this, but the sight is too sweet to pass up. She takes her phone out, snapping a picture before the moment is lost and saving it to her hidden camera roll along with all the other's she's taken lately. She'll have to send him that one later, too.
She steps over to Jamie, shaking his shoulder slightly, waving silently when his eyes blink open blearily. He smiles and she's transported right back to years ago when Faith was a baby. She'd fall asleep on his chest, curled into a tiny ball, and he'd ever so gently stand, placing her in the crib. He was always so gentle with her, just like he still is with both girls.
"Hi," he whispers, voice scratchy with sleep. "How was it?"
Her lips immediately seal into a thin line, eyes misting over, but she shakes her head, saying, "It was fine. I'll tell you later."
She knows he can read her face, never one to have the ability to hide her emotions, but he nods. Looking down, he motions with his chin to Bree, "Ye take this one, and I'll get Faith."
Smiling, she scoops Brianna into her arms. The little girl squirms and moans but falls right back to sleep once she's settled into Claire's embrace.
They carry them up to bed, thankful Jamie had gotten them bathed and changed into pajamas earlier apparently so she doesn't have to try and change them out of their regular clothes to sleep.
Once they are back downstairs, they each take what's become 'their' spots on the couch, Claire's leg curling underneath her body as she turns to face Jamie. His arm is resting along the back of the couch, and she longs to be wrapped inside of that strong embrace.
"So how did it really go?" he asks, giving her a pointed look as he turns the television off with the remote, setting it softly on the coffee table.
She tells him about dinner, and how awkward it had been. She recounts how she broke up with him, her eyes tearing up again, this time with frustrated tears, as she recalls how angry Frank had gotten. "He stood up and started pacing. His hands were clenched into fists," she says, clasping her own into fists to demonstrate, "and his eyes, Jamie, I've never seen his eyes look so mad." Her brows cinch together as she recalls the look in Frank's eyes.
Claire lets her curled leg fall a bit, her knee resting against his thigh. His hand is resting there, thumb stroking lightly as she tells him everything that happened—Frank hovering over her, how she slid between his body and the chair and left, all of it.
"Do ye think he would have hurt you?"
"No," she says instantly, shaking her head, though she's not entirely sure anymore. "No, I-I don't think so, anyway. I was scared in the moment, he did almost look like he was going to hit me, but…"
Jamie's jaw tenses, and she can see the wheels turning in his mind. He asks if she's okay, and she nods, assuring him that she is.
"Ye're a brave wee thing, ye ken that?"
She smiles, shaking her head. "I'm just glad I never slept with him," she mutters, more to herself, but Jamie snorts, eyebrows raising at the confession.
"That makes two fo us, ye ken?"
She chuckles despite herself, her heartbeat calming down even more as she looks into Jamie's face. "I think he was just confused. It came out of the blue, obviously, and I'm sure he could tell I was lying about my reasoning for the break up."
"Aye, wi' yer wee glass face an' all."
Snorting, she smacks his chest, but agrees, knowing that she wears her heart on her sleeve and anyone who knows her well enough would be able to see right through her lies.
"I could always tell when ye had a surprise for me," he grins, taking her hand in his. His thumb traces over the wedding band, and she laughs, remembering how she used to get so mad at him for figuring out her secret plans. "Like that time at uni when ye wanted to surprise me with a weekend getaway."
"Oh, god," she groans, bringing a hand to cover her face. "I was so mad at you that day."
She'd attempted to surprise him with a long weekend away to Lallybroch. His father and Jenny would be gone, and she'd thought it would be perfect. They could spend the whole weekend cuddled up in front of the fireplace, taking long walks through the gardens and just enjoy getting away from the hustle and bustle of Edinburgh.
He'd figured it out, of course, because she can't hide anything, and he'd ruined her surprise by telling her he knew what she was planning.
She'd cried and gotten angry, but in the end, they'd had an amazing weekend away… and Jamie learned from there on out to never tell her when he'd discovered her surprises lest they get into another argument.
They laugh at the memory now, their bodies somehow moving even closer as his arm snakes around her shoulders. They spend the next few moments reminiscing over their favorite times at university, before the conversation shifts to all the antics they had with Murtagh that just about gave Jamie's father, Brian, a heart attack.
This feels nice, she decides; this is comfortable, there are no awkward pauses, only comfortable silences when the conversation lags, both just content to sit in each other's arms. She loves this feeling and hopes it never goes away again.
Her hand is on his leg, her fingers swirling a mindless pattern against his denim while his hand rubs at her shoulders.
Their touches feel more free now that Frank is out of the picture, and her breath deepens as she realizes for the first time tonight that she's truly able to be with Jamie, fully, completely.
Her hand moves to his chest, resting over his heart, and she inches closer, lips hovering above his. She bites down on her bottom lip, hoping he's picking up on the signal she's giving him. She smiles coyly, scooting even closer, her breath labored as his head tilts.
She goes to speak, but before she can, his phone's alarm goes off, and their moment is broken. They both sigh out, their breath panting as Claire tries to reel herself back in. It's his alarm to let him know it's time to leave, so he shuts it off, saying, "I should be getting back to the safe house…"
"Y-yeah," she breathes, nodding as she pulls herself out of the haze they'd created, sitting back against the cushion. There's an ache between her legs that she knows she'll have to take care of on her own tonight before she glee insane with need, but though she's disappointed, she smiles over at Jamie, patting his cheek.
"John stays up every night tae make sure I get home safely," he explains, looking at his watch. "I have tae be back before midnight, remember? Like Cinderella." He grins, but it turns into a grimace as he says, "I ken he worries, especially being back in Georgia."
Reality hits her hard at those words, and she remembers how unsafe it truly is for him to be back here. This isn't just her spending time with her newly found husband; this is dangerous. He's taking a risk by even being back here, and her heart quickens at the thought.
He only has a few more days in town, and she won't chance anything going wrong, so she stands slowly, reaching out a hand to hoist him up from the couch with her.
"Well, I'd hate for your carriage to turn back into a pumpkin."
He chuckles, kissing her cheek as she links their hands together, walking him to the door. He takes his jacket, slipping it on slowly as she watches him.
"Weel… goodnight, then, mo chridhe."
There's silence between them, her thoughts swirling fiercely. A moment passes, a weighted tension between them as she watches Jamie lick his lips, his blue eyes flickering down to her lips before meeting her eyes.
Chewing on her bottom lip, she toys with it briefly, the realization hitting her all over again that this is allowed now—she's single. With that, she breathes a, "Come here, you," and wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. A real kiss. One they haven't been able to share since that first night.
It's as if little explosions of fireworks go off in both of their minds, Jamie's hands gripping her waist and pulling her impossibly closer. Her body is pressed against the hard lines of his torso, she can feel his abs beneath his shirt, and God, does she want him.
His lips move across hers, and she presses her tongue to his lips, begging for entrance that he gladly grants. She tilts her head, deepening their kiss and savoring the feel of his lips and tongue pressed to hers.
This is the kiss she's longed for ever since he went out for the damn ice cream. It's the kiss she'd dreamt of for so long, the kiss she'd imagine at night after experiencing Frank's thin lips on hers.
This. This is everything. His kiss says so much, holds so much promise. I love you, I'm here, I'm never leaving you again…
She can feel her eyes filling with tears, and she curses herself. She's tired of crying. She just wants to enjoy the feel of her husband, damn it.
Her hands grip his biceps, loving the feel of his muscles beneath hers as his hands grip her hips, hands pulsing on her strip of flesh that's exposed between her jeans and her top.
When the need for air consumes her, she pulls away, biting her lip to hide how large her smile is.
"Weel then," he drawls, his smirk taking up residence on his face, "I should get going."
She sighs, not wanting him to go just yet, but nods, and he leans in once more, pressing another one, two, three more chaste kisses to her lips, causing her to giggle.
As she locks the door behind him and makes her way upstairs for the night, she can't contain the smile on her face. Her hands trace over the lips, embracing the feel of him against her once more. It's a feeling she never thought she'd ever have again, and she's going to revel in it for as long as she can.
She loves this man, and figuring out their new life won't be easy, but now that she's ended things with Frank, she feels like a weight has been lifted. She can truly be back with Jamie and they can figure this whole thing out, together.
{**************************}
There we have it! Her relationship with Frank is over—woohoo! Lol Hope you enjoyed this one. Please review! :)