Chapter 55

"Why is Mickie taking over my training?" Claira had no idea where that had come from, at all. Her Dad apparently had gotten a hold of Mickie and… wouldn't be training her anymore. "What happened to him merging?"

Steve hated that he could actually read Mark's mind, it meant the man had long stopped caring. "He can't…"

"Oh… but he knows how to ward Taker. I know each time is temporary, but there's got to be something permanent."

There was. Brooklynn had said no to it.

Prom.

It was Prom night and Claira looked incredible in a pure deep emerald gown that matched her eyes perfectly. Her date for the evening was a football player, same age and good build. Dean Ambrose. Blonde hair, blue eyes, a little quirky and humorous with NO magical abilities whatsoever. Another month had passed by with Brooklynn not speaking a word to Mark or talking about him…except Claira. That was her father and Claira refused to not talk about him.

She had accepted her parents were done, especially when Mark received divorce papers in the mail and had signed them without a second thought. Brooklynn had vowed to live a life of celibacy; she would never love again or trust another man as long as she lived, and she was alright with that. No sex; quite frankly, she never wanted to have sex again anyway. Her dreams were plagued with happy memories of her and Mark together with Claira when she was younger. Needless to say, Brooklynn didn't sleep much these days.

Currently, she stood outside of the house she once called home, another stab of pain searing through her. This was her choice, her decision to leave, and Brooklynn owned up to it. She refused to make eye contact with Mark or talk to him, only here for their daughter on her special night. Mark was in the doorway with a tumbler in his hand, looking handsome as ever with a trimmed goatee, clean facial hair and his black hair pulled back in a low tail at the nape of his neck.

Black skintight jeans, white dress shirt that buttoned down the front…he was dressed to kill. Brooklynn was cleaned up as well, her hair in a perfect bun with black slacks and a cream-colored top. They had already taken pictures together, though Mark and Brooklynn made sure not to touch each other since the wounds were still very fresh from their official breakup.

"You look beautiful, sweetheart." She murmured, glad she was able to pick the dress out with Claira. "Okay, quick photo and then you guys need to hurry onto the dance."

"Mom…" Claira groaned, rolling her eyes and smiled for the camera as the picture was snapped. "Okay enough, come on Ambrose, before we're slammed again with more photos."

"Isn't he going to give me the speech?" Dean asked curiously. Mr. Calaway looked like he could eat him alive and he also looked amused.

"Claira…"

"Yes, Daddy?"

"Make sure you have the boy home by his curfew."

"Wait… that's now how it goes…"

"Son, she can handle herself." Mark drawled, his green eyes twinkling wickedly. "You piss her off, you'll wish I was there to save you."

Dean eyeballed his date, finally shrugging. "Seems fair."

As soon as Dean's back was turned, he rolled his eyes at the big, cheesy smile and thumbs up from Claira.

Brooklynn chuckled softly, shaking her head at the character their daughter was and felt proud, tears filling her eyes. When did Claira grow up? Why did time have to fly by so fast? Before she had Claira, there was only crossing spirits over into the light and saving the world with the circle, but one little girl changed all of that. Now, she was blossoming into a beautiful woman and it was a little overwhelming, to say the least. Brooklynn watched as Dean opened the door for Claira to his truck, neither wanting to take a limousine like others and drove off moments later to head to the dance.

"Have fun, sweetheart." She whispered, wiping a tear away and cleared her throat, pulling her keys out of her purse. There was a bottle of wine with her name on it at home, along with a night full of Netflix to binge on.

From what Claira and Steve had told him, Brooklynn was back to being a recluse. He didn't know what to say to her anymore. The idea of being railed at and torn down, Mark was good. Shaking his head, he watched as she fingered her keys, holding his tumbler in one hand and unfastening his shirt with the other. Prom pictures… he had skipped his own Prom, gone out drinking and raised hell instead. Claira was nothing like he had been, which was a good thing.

There would be no railing or tearing him down anymore because, honestly, nothing more had to be said between them. Claira already knew to contact her when she made it home from prom, so there was no need to even say that much to Mark. Brooklynn already decided, once graduation was over with, she was moving back to Wyoming. She never got rid of her mansion and this way, she would be far away from Texas and Mark. Maybe then the healing process would begin, and it was only a little over a year away.

Brooklynn wasn't telling anyone about her plans to move because they would only try talking her out of it, Claira included.

Mark wouldn't care; hell, he'd probably be glad she was out of Texas and away from him. Maybe he'd go back to his life as a nomad, drifting from place to place, something he had given up for her when they decided to give a relationship an actual try. Seventeen years later…it crumbled into dust because of harsh truth and reality…because of her. Slipping into her car, Brooklynn drove off toward her apartment and didn't look back, refusing to break down in front of the former love of her life.

"You know, maybe if the rest of us wouldn't have put that pressure on you, and her, this wouldn't have happened."

"As much as I appreciate the visit, Glenn, what?" Glenn had come to spend the weekend here, which had been interesting and, currently, they were in front of a bonfire, a cooler of beer between them.

"We all kept badgering you two to get married."

Oh, that. "Doesn't change anything. She made up her mind for the both of us." Mark shrugged, yawning. "I've sworn off women. Except to fuck. And my daughter." He was never doing this again.

The entire circle was cut off from Brooklynn. She didn't want to talk to anyone except her daughter and wanted to be left alone. A recluse was an understatement. She only went out to buy groceries or when she had to run an errand. Other than that, she was holed up in her apartment and had started a new book. She had to do something to get her mind off things as the months began to pass by. Claira and Dean were getting along really well, dating for 3 months now and Claira's birthday was coming up.

Seventeen.

She would be 17-years-old. Mark was throwing her a party at the house to celebrate and, as much as Brooklynn wanted to be there, she declined the invitation from her daughter. Instead, she gave her a beautiful necklace she had made out of the ruby studs Taker gifted her with, not wanting them anymore. Now, it was a ruby pendant with a gold design around it on a gold chain. Ruby was Claira's birthstone.

"I love you, sweetheart." Brooklynn whispered, hugging her tightly after clipping the necklace around her daughter's neck and kissed the top of her head softly. "Go on now, go have fun at your party and send me pictures."

"Love you too, Mom. Thanks." Claira walked out of the apartment and headed back home since her father had gifted her with a car for her 17th birthday, crying the whole way.

When Claira got home, Mark was a bit curious about the necklace, a brow raising. Taker had made those to protect Brooklynn from Randy's powers, not exactly Claira-needed. He made a mental note to eyeball it later, see if the charm was still there and then replace it with something else. Claira had been crying, no surprise. She wasn't living with Brooklynn, she was getting a small taste of her mother's isolation issues.

"You know she loves you." He said quietly, brushing tears away with his thumbs.

"I know she does, but it feels different… like she stopped really trying with me when she stopped loving you…I don't want a party anymore, Dad. It won't feel right if Mom isn't here, so we can just go out to dinner or something. I'm 17, I'm a little too old for a party anyway."

Claira kissed his cheek and headed upstairs to her room, wiping her tears away. She took the necklace off and put it in her nightstand drawer before changing for bed, hoping her mother found some kind of happiness in her life. Claira could tell her mother was MISERABLE and the fact she had started a new book just proved it. Her phone vibrated and it was Dean checking in on her and making sure she was alright. She texted him back there wouldn't be a party, she wasn't in the mood for one and promised to call him tomorrow. Maybe they could go see a movie or something for her birthday.

The fact that Claira had moved on was not pleasing. He let it happen though, he would only interfere if she decided to give Dean Ambrose what was HIS. Seth was respecting her wishes, letting her grow up, become an adult, and then he would come for her. Brooklynn had burnt bridges, isolated herself from her circle, and that was just hilarious. When he did return for his Claira, there would be nothing and nobody capable of stopping him.

Graduation Day.

Claira was graduating high school. The year flew by in the blink of an eye, again, and now she hit another milestone. There was no way Brooklynn would miss this as she walked up, streaks of silver throughout her black hair. She didn't bother dying it, no point in impressing anyone when she was celibate. Throughout the year, Brooklynn had thought about all the mistakes in life she made, especially when it came to Mark. All the choices she made were her own fault and it was one of the many reasons she stayed isolated. Of course, she was there for the big moments with Claira, but they barely saw each other since she lived with her father.

Claira loved her Dad more, and Brooklynn accepted it.

She snapped pictures, wearing a black dress and her hair was once again pulled back in a tight bun. Mark looked incredible as usual; the breakup was good for him because he no longer looked ragged and stressed out. They walked inside where the bleachers were located and there were NO seats available except a small spot that could fit both of them. Brooklynn had no choice except to sit next to Mark and scooted over to give him plenty of room, holding her purse in her lap while the graduates lined up to start filing out.

The secret to Mark's looking well, and being moderately all right, was the plain and simple fact that this was just who Brooklynn was. It was who she had been all those years ago, she had just stopped for a 17-year long break and now she was back at it. Isolated. Writing. Doing what she did. He knew he had screwed up by not asking her what she wanted earlier, but he also knew she had screwed up in not voicing her own issues sooner.

Probably the biggest thing that had hurt him had been the realization that she didn't care if he lived or died, as long as it was by her choice. Her rather he be alive and miserable instead of being dead and her miserable, followed soon after by she didn't care what happened to him, denying him her blood. That was hilarious and heartbreaking because he had been working on healing from the bindings coming off, as well as trying to give her the perfect balance she had wanted. Well, the balance was probably not what she wanted, but it had also helped him.

"Jesus, that's a lot of people." He rumbled, staring down at all the other family, friends and whatnot.

Mark had her completely wrong, as usual, and it was never going to change. She didn't want him to die, PERIOD. She would never be alright with him dying, no matter if it was by her choice or his. The merging was too dangerous, too risky and, if Brooklynn had to stay away from him, leave him, in order to protect him, that's what she had to do. And she did. It was for his protection as well as the fact she would never, ever trust Undertaker again. None of this mattered anymore anyway.

They had both moved on with their lives and she was leaving in another month, right after Claira's 18th birthday. She didn't want to miss it, but didn't have to stick around anymore because her daughter was an adult and Brooklynn had to get away from this place. The apartment lease was up, and she was paying to stay there month by month until it was time to move, which she already had her plane ticket and mostly everything packed up. Claira had no idea what she had planned, and Brooklynn decided she would be telling her daughter instead of just leaving, just not today.

"Yeah, it is." She murmured quietly, staring straight ahead and tried not to let his smell infiltrate her senses.

In all those years together, she had never noticed the expanding tattoos. Not so much regular tattoos and bindings that magically tied him to her. When Claira had been born, another tattoo had formed. Taker had removed them, well, sped it along, because they had started fading and that was a very horrible ordeal. He had likened having them hastened in removal to just tearing off a band-aid, still hurt, but not for as long. He should have probably pointed them out to her.

"She tell you she wants to go off for a year, do the gap year thing?"

"No."

Claira didn't tell her a lot these days. Mark never once pointed out those bindings tattooed and it was hard to keep up since he had so many, to begin with. She really didn't pay much attention to his ink, honestly, because it was part of him. Maybe if he had told her and SHOWED her, explained what the bindings meant, she would've felt marginally better about not having an actual marriage. But he didn't. Brooklynn was left in the dark, like she'd left him in the dark about her feelings regarding marriage and their sex life. Probably should've opened her mouth and said something instead of settled. They both settled and now they were no longer together because they had settled.

"Whatever she plans to do, I support her."