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Chapter 49

Something woke her up and Clara didn't really know what it was, but as she slowly came back to her senses and became aware of the strange surroundings that weren't her own home, the realisation slowly dawned on her – as did the feeling of a parched throat. Since the glass on her bedside table didn't contain enough water to relieve the feeling of thirst, Clara swung her legs out of bed, feeling surprisingly awake for just having woken up, and made her way towards the kitchen. What also came as a bit of a surprise to her when she left the bedroom was to find that the lights were still on in the lounge. Clara stopped and frowned, listening intently to any sounds she might hear, but there weren't any.

She thought back and she could have sworn that John had gone to bed at the same time she had; she even remembered him saying goodnight while she had been brushing her teeth. Had he accidentally left the lights on? Did he get up again because he, too, felt thirsty? Or was there a deeper, more dangerous reason for the illuminated living room? Her blood froze as she imagined Ciaran O'Neill sitting on the sofa, come to take from her what she couldn't give. Clara had made her decision and she vowed to make sure that everything went to John after O'Neill was arrested. She couldn't tell him about what she knew and still hope they had a future together, so the only way was to make sure that John received all the information without ever knowing she had had it.

Carefully, Clara stepped into the living room, already dreading whatever was awaiting her, but then she saw something she had least expected and her heart instantly sank into her boots. John had his back turned towards her, but still, Clara could see the box he was holding in his hands, the box that she had given to him so he would keep it safe, but she hadn't meant for him to look at it. If he learned of her secret like this, he would never forgive her. But what was she going to do about it when he was so close to discovering everything? Even though the mental image of finding O'Neill in this room had frightened her, what she saw now scared her even more.

"John?" Clara said quietly, her voice a little hoarse from sleep. He spun around and looked at her like a deer caught in the headlights. "What are you doing?"

"I, uh," he stammered but then broke off. It was obvious that he hadn't meant to get caught because he was lost for words and Clara knew that she should probably feel betrayed – she would have, if it hadn't been for her own betrayal. John was stood still except for the awkward shuffling of his feet, his eyes never leaving her, and he didn't say another word as his hands clutched at the box as if hanging on for dear life.

Clara swallowed hard and took a step closer, her mind racing with the possibility of her secret coming to light right here, right now and a part that was buried deep down inside of her was desperate for him to open the box and let out the shadow that had been haunting her for too long.

"I wanted to see whether your passport was in it," John admitted after a long while, still clutching the box in his hands as if he hadn't made up his mind about looking inside. He lowered his eyes and focused on what his hands were doing. "Either you lied to me and you indeed left this island and came back or Bonnie used your passport when she arrived here and that means-"

"That means I shouldn't have my passport because it was stolen," Clara finished his sentence, her voice hardly more than a whisper.

"You said you do," he argued. "You said it was with all your other documents. I assumed you meant it was in the box."

She both wanted him to open the box and see for himself what the contents were, and yet she didn't want him to. Clara couldn't make up her mind. Maybe it would have been easier for her to make a decision if she could be sure that he wouldn't leave her. Since Ciaran O'Neill's attack, Clara had known that she wanted to be with John, that she wanted them to be together. Whether she was ready or not, whether the ghost of Danny still haunted her, Clara wanted to give John a chance because he was the first man since that horrible accident that had touched her heart. John was always kind, he always understood and in his presence, Clara felt right for the first time since she had lost her fiancé. There was no way she would give that feeling up.

Gently, Clara reached out and touched the box so that both their hands were holding it, but she didn't try to pull at it. John had to hand it over willingly. "Do you trust me?" Clara wanted to know. "Do you trust me when I say that I didn't kill my twin sister?"

A frown appeared on his forehead. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"It's the question you're really asking, isn't it?" Clara enquired, arching her eyebrows at him. "It's what you really want to know and I can give you the answer. I didn't kill Bonnie."

Finally, John raised his head a little and their eyes met. He stared right into hers for a long moment as if the truth was hidden in them and eventually, Clara mustered a smile.

"I trust you," he whispered in response. A weight dropped off her shoulders, but the shadows in her mind didn't vanish.

"Thank you."

Clara could feel him tug at the box as he attempted to turn towards the safe and lock it back up, but she held on tight and instead, pulled him down to meet her. The moment their lips touched, Clara felt her heart leap with joy and her stomach filled with the oddest tingling sensation she hadn't felt in such a long time. It occurred to her that maybe her friend Amy had seen this coming all along, but Clara hadn't been sure until a couple of days ago. The joy and the tingling were merely the confirmation that she really was falling in love, when she had never expected that to happen again.

Instead of returning the box to the safe, John dropped it on the sofa next to them and used his hands for a much better purpose. He raised them and gently cupped her cheeks, pulling her just a little deeper into the kiss. Right now, she believed it was the best thing she had ever felt and Clara leaned forward and let herself fall against his strong, warm chest. Finally, when they started to run out of air, Clara giggled and broke the kiss. As she opened her eyes and looked at John, she could see the same joy she felt right there on his silly face and it made her want to laugh even more.

"I trust you," John repeated, his breath a little ragged. He was grinning at her, but Clara wasn't in the mood for talking or promises of trust. John had rekindled something in her, a flame she had believed to be extinguished forever.

She reached out and grabbed him by the collar of his pyjama top. "Shut up," Clara breathed in a hushed voice and pulled him down for another kiss, determined that tonight would be the first night she didn't have to spend on her own. Maybe that would finally drive away the shadows from her past.