Volume Two: Keep Your Heart Broken

Summer 2008:

"Peter . . . Help me . . ." Peter couldn't shake Claire's last pleading thought from his mind as he drove through the darkness. "This is madness . . ." He thought as he compelled himself to turn the car around. "Don't leave it like this."

As he neared the house, he cleared his mind so that he could focus on Claire. Nothing. Something was not right. Desperately, he searched the house. His heart was pounding by the time he made it to the courtyard. It seemed like only minutes had passed since his shocking argument with Claire. Still, nothing. He held his breath as he neared the pool. It was then that something caught his eye. He cried out when he realised. "Claire." She was drifting near the bottom of the pool.

"No, no, no." Peter didn't hesitate to dive in after her. He swam down and tightly grabbed hold of her body. He returned to the surface, to check for witnesses. When he found none, he flew out of the water and onto the nearby concrete tiles. "No, No, No . . ." His voice trembled with fear. "Don't do this, please . . . Just hold on, Claire." His hands shook as he struggled to remember his training. He carefully placed her flat on her back. He then tilted her head back and searched for any signs of breathing. For a moment there was nothing, but suddenly she convulsed and vomited. Without pausing, he quickly rolled her onto her side into the recovery position. He collapsed backwards into a sitting position. His hand flew up to his mouth as his chest heaved rapidly for air.

"Of course she's not dead. She's invincible." Thoughts whirled through his head. He sat beside her limp body for another few seconds before he realised something was wrong. Claire was ice cold to the touch and her breaths were few. He moved to her side again, this time reaching for her pulse. It was dangerously slow. Suddenly aware of their surroundings, Peter realised he needed to get her away from there, and fast.

Peter knew he couldn't risk taking her to a hospital, so he flew to the only place he knew he would safely be able to help her. Home. Thankfully, the house was empty. He stumbled up the stairs to his bedroom and dropped Claire gently onto the floor in their shared bathroom. There was only one way to raise her body temperature; Peter tentatively removed her soaked dress. Throwing it to one side, he gently scooped her up and put her in his bed. He took a step back and paused for a moment. Then, he took a depth breath and removed his shirt and trousers, before sliding into the bed next to her. Her body was bitterly cold against his. She shivered constantly and her lips were a deathly shade of blue. He hugged her tightly, using his body heat to warm her core.

"I'm here," he whispered as he let his trembling fingers stroke the soft skin of her back. "Please don't leave me. I didn't mean it."

Claire was breathing in short raspy bursts, as her petite body tried to fight off the cold. Her icy nipples grazed against the warmth of his chest. As the minutes passed, Peter became astonishingly aware that he was becoming aroused by the closeness of her body. He closed his eyes and yearned for the feeling to pass.

As the effect of the alcohol wore off, Claire's body temperature rapidly returned to normal. This in turn helped her heartbeat back into its natural rhythm.

We watched as her green eyes flew open. A sweet smile crept across her lips as she gazed intently at his handsome face.

"Hey . . ." he greeted her tenderly.

She watched him curiously for a second, before the reality of the night before and her current situation crushed down on her.

"Get away from me." She practically pushed him out of the bed.

"Claire?" The forcefulness of her manner sent chills down his spine.

"You heard me," she spat the words angrily in his direction. "I can't even look at you right now."

Peter reached for his jeans and started putting them on. "You did this to yourself, Claire. I won't take any blame. I saved you."

"You think you saved me? Well, that's the exact opposite of what happened, okay." She quickly put on the sweatshirt he handed her and leapt from the bed.

"I'm sorry." His attempt at an apology went over her head.

"The way I see it, in this life everyone I trust betrays me. I thought you were different Peter. I thought you were like me, but clearly I was wrong."

"I am different, Claire, and so are you. You're not that girl from Texas anymore, you're my niece, and my best friend . . . I love you."

His words hung in the air for a moment.

"I love you . . . What does that even mean?"

"You're my niece and I love you; I don't see what the problem is." He lied, to her face. He knew exactly what the problem was. There was a line and he had crossed it. There was no going back.

Claire's bottom lip trembled as she spoke. "I don't want to look into your eyes and feel this way anymore."

Peter pursed his lips slowly, letting her words settle. "Then choose not to hate me."

"I think moving here was the biggest mistake of my life."

"This is crazy. I don't want our friendship to be ruined over some stupid little kiss."

"There's more to it than that, and you know it!"

"What? How can I convince you that I'm sorry?"

Tears welled up in her eyes. "That's just it, Pete. I don't think there is anything you can do." She pushed past him and headed towards the door. He caught her by the arm.

"Claire, please . . . Don't do this." He pulled her closer so his face was inches from hers and looked her directly in the eyes.

"I can't be around you right now," she whispered, tears streaming down her face. "Now let me go."

He called after her. "If you think hating me will make this just go away, then you're sadly mistaken."

The door slammed behind her and the noise rattled through the walls.

"Damn it!" His voice croaked as he stumbled back to his bed and collapsed, head in his hands.

Peter: Claire graduated High School a few weeks after that night. She had this amazing aura about her. She was poised, confident and truly beautiful. I missed her terribly. Her presence in my life had been replaced by an overwhelming secret that filled my heart.

Claire: Graduation Day was torture. On the outside I was everything I ought to have been, but on the inside I was dying. My feud with Peter was placing great strain on my soul. I could see the hurt in his eyes every time I looked at him. For a moment, I would even feel sorry for him, but then the sting of his betrayal would return and I started to realise I would never forgive him. Hating him was easier than admitting how I really felt.

Becca approached Claire after the ceremony. They hadn't spoken since Prom night.

"Congratulations," Becca offered Claire her praise.

Claire wanted nothing more than give her a slap, but with all the eyes on her she knew better of it. "Nice speech," her voice was dark with sarcasm.

"I see you still haven't gotten over yourself yet."

"What's your point?"

"I wanted to explain, about that night . . ."

"I don't want to hear it." Claire was about to storm off, but Becca caught her by the arm.

"Let go of me," Claire hissed. "You bitch."

"Hey . . . I was the one who turned down dates to the Prom for you."

"Yeah, so you could crack onto my Uncle."

"It wasn't like that and you know it," Becca replied sternly.

"Right," Claire scoffed.

"It's the truth Claire," Becca explained. "If you can't forgive me, then at least forgive him. He cares about you, and I mean really cares about you, but you're too selfish to see it."

Her message delivered, Becca turned and walked away. Claire watched her go, a sense of loneliness rising into her chest.

Peter: Claire and I barely talked that summer. Our conversations usually consisted of common pleasantries in the company of others. I missed her smile, I missed her laugh, and I missed everything about her. Before I knew it, her eighteenth birthday was upon us. It was hard to believe a whole year had passed since she moved to New York.

Peter fumbled with the small navy velvet box in his hands. He passed it across the table. "Happy Birthday, Claire." He offered his sincere congratulations.

She didn't meet his gaze, but gratefully accepted the box anyway. "Thanks," she murmured. She opened it with a shaky hand and gasped when she saw the contents. Inside was a small silver locket. Set amongst a delicate engraving was a single sapphire stone.

Heidi gasped as she peered over Claire's shoulder. "Wow, Peter it's beautiful."

Claire met his eyes for the first time that night, but said nothing. Green eyes mixed with brown in the candlelight as Nathan made a toast.

"To Claire, Happy Eighteenth Birthday" Nathan raised his glass and the others followed.

Her eyes were still locked on Peter's as she took a sip of champagne. The moment lasted an eternity.

Peter: Eighteen years old, my niece and I had fallen deeply in love with her.

A/N: That is the end of Volume Two. Concluding Volumes will be written and posted later this year after I come back from Europe. Think of it as a seasonal break . . .

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