- 4. The Point of No Return -
I take a deep breath before finally pushing the heavy door of the barn and walking in with as much determination as I can muster at the moment.
This is going to be one of the hardest things I'll ever have to do in my life and I know it. But I also know that it's the right thing to do and the sooner I confront Clark about his… about what I found out, the higher is the probability that he'll forgive me, right? God, I certainly hope so.
Of course, there's also a selfish reason, namely preserving my sanity. I doubt I would survive another day without telling him.
"Hey, Clark." I greet him as I walk up the stairs to the loft. Suddenly, I realize this might be the last time he lets me in here. I quickly push the thought aside.
"Chloe! Hi!"
"How's your Dad?"
"Oh, he's spent the day out in the field, repairing some of the damage. Mom insisted he stayed in bed at least for another day, but you know him…"
"Yeah…" I nod absently.
Clark looks at me with expectant eyes, probably waiting for me to explain what I'm doing in his barn way past dinnertime.
This is it. The Point of No Return.
Acting on instinct, it had seemed like the right thing to do. Now I'm not so sure anymore.
I feel the sudden impulse to escape but somehow manage to restrain myself. There are a lot of things you could call Chloe Sullivan, but chicken has never been one of them. Right? Oh, come on. Get your act together and tell him already.
"I… I have something for you. But before I give it to you, you have to promise you won't be mad, ok?"
That's such a stupid thing to say. Whenever people use that line it's because they're about to say something that will inevitably make the other person mad, warning or no warning.
"Remember your adoption file?" Clark's jaw instinctively clenches at this. Great. Way to go, Sullivan.
"Well, see… I didn't delete it. Until this morning, that is." There goes nothing.
No reaction. I wait. Still no reaction. Now what? Stick to the plan, Chloe, just stick to the plan. I rummage through my oversized bag for a moment, finally producing a manila folder.
"Here." I hand it to him. "This is the only copy."
What am I supposed to do next? I feel like I'm about to faint. Maybe I should. Sitting down sounds like the best alternative. I sit on the very edge of the couch, as if I was afraid of making myself too comfortable for what's about to happen.
Clark just stands in front of me with the open folder in his hands and I stare at the floor, not daring to say a word. The silence reminds me of that really creepy moment of peace before the storm unleashes and for the first time I realize how scared I am. Scared of Clark's wrath. Now that's a first.
"Why?" His choked question breaks the silence.
This is the part I've rehearsed a thousand times in a thousand different versions. None of them sounds right anymore. Maybe I should discard them all and simply be honest.
"I don't know, Clark. You could blame the reporter in me. Or maybe you could say I desperately wanted a part of you not even Lana could have. That I wanted a hint of your secret, something that would help me understand you better… help me solve the mystery of Clark Kent. And that if I could do that, I would know how to…" I pause before adding 'to make you love me back'.
"I guess it doesn't matter now, anyway" I finish with a shrug.
"And now… you've deleted it?" I know him well enough to recognize the anxiety rising behind his apparently calm voice.
I simply nod in response.
"Why… why now?" This makes me look up at him. It's not the question I was expecting.
"Because I wanted to protect you." I answer, matter-of-factly. "Things have changed a lot over the past two days, Clark."
I stand up abruptly and start pacing around the loft, all the while feeling Clark's questioning stare on my back. Finally, I turn to look at him.
"Does the name Roger Nixon say anything to you?"
The faintest shade of panic crosses Clark's face before he answers. "No."
"Liar."
My voice has sounded much more loaded with bitterness than I intended it to. Clark looks shocked. He's not the only one.
"You know, Clark, one would expect a guy who has spent his entire lifetime lying to be a little better at it. Even if you hadn't heard of him before Lex… before yesterday, you would know his name by now, wouldn't you?"
With a quick move, I turn my bag upside down and scatter its contents over his desk until the surface is covered with pictures.
Clark thrusting fence posts into the ground barehanded. Clark stepping without a scratch out of a truck in flames. Clark morphing into a blurry shade too fast for the camera to catch. Clark's ship from all possible angles.
Lord, Clark's ship…
I don't even look at the pictures. I have already looked at them until they were so branded into my mind those images are all I see whenever I close my eyes.
Right now I can read them in Clark's face.
Clark looks up at me with an expression I've never seen before in anyone, the strangest mixture of shock, fear and anger and again I find myself afraid of him.
"How…?" he finally manages to whisper.
"Oh but wait, Clark. You've seen nothing yet!"
I don't know why but suddenly I'm overwhelmed with anger. "There's also the notes, the recordings… oh, and just wait until you watch the tapes. One hundred percent Oscar material, Clark."
Bitterness is so thick I can taste it, a metallic tingle on the back of my tongue.
"Everything's in my car. I brought it over so you could personally make it disappear. I knew you wouldn't believe me if I told you I already had."
"Chloe…"
"Oh, and there are no copies, if that's what you're worried about."
I'm dangerously close to hyperventilation right now.
"Am I not trust-worthy? Have I ever been a bad friend? Have I? Was I not supportive enough through all those endless ramblings about how wonderful Lana is, how sweet and pretty and perfect, how I could never even begin to compete with her because only she is up to your perfection standards?"
I know I'm going to regret all this. Actually, I think I'm regretting it already. But I simply can't cut it off, it's as if words had taken control over me and I were physically unable to stop them.
"Obviously, that wasn't enough. No one is enough for you, right? Only Lana. Maybe not even Lana if you got to know her better. I bet you'd despise her and drop her at the spot if she ever dared to reveal the slightest flaw. You know what? After years of envying her, I think all she inspires me now is pity. Yeah, pity. You have no idea how to really love, Clark. Because love is based upon trust and honesty and you know you'd never let Lana into your secret and that would rotten your relationship as it has rotten ours."
I let out a sour snort. "As if we even had one."
Clarks takes a tentative step towards me but I step back.
"Don't look at me like that. Don't you dare looking at me like that! You feel bad? So what? Am I expected to feel sorry for you?"
I can't breathe. Air seems to evade my lungs and I feel about to suffocate. I need to get out of here immediately. Away from this loft and, most importantly, away from Clark.
He doesn't make the slightest attempt to stop me. He must be glad I'm leaving at last.
By the time the farm has disappeared from my rearview mirror, I'm crying so hard that I can barely make out the road through my tears. I pull up before losing all control of the car and just stay there, frozen, clutching at the wheel like there's no tomorrow simply because it's the only thing around me that doesn't seem to be spinning.
It's late and it's dark and I should leave, but instead of going home like any sensible girl would, I'm sitting in a car in the middle of nowhere, crying my eyes out.
Suddenly I wish I were one of those nice sensible girls. I bet a sensible small town girl wouldn't have done everything in her power to make the love of her life hate her with every fiber of his alien being.
TBC…