Chapter II

On Monday, I went back to work at the DPG. I had a million thoughts running through my mind as soon as I stepped into my office. I'd spent nearly all weekend with Owen at his house, for one. On Sunday, he took me back home, so I could prepare for work the next day. But being alone meant spending all my time with just my thoughts—and I was all over the place. I hadn't texted anyone back, including those asking me if I was doing okay. My sister had sent me angrier texts and had since called me, like, twice, but I ignored her. My nose had mostly been buried into social media and reading what news outlets had to say about dinosaurs being loose throughout the states. The farthest sighting was Montana, and who knew where else they'd go?

I was reading through my seemingly endless and constant stream of emails, when a loud and persistent knocking startled me. It was Zia, waving frantically. I motioned for her to come in and she nearly blasted through the door and plopped down right in front of my desk.

"I've been texting you all weekend!" she said breathlessly. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I said. "And sorry. It's been a rough few days. So many emails and messages..."

"You good, though? Want me to bring you a coffee?"

I was going to say no, but realized I could use some caffeine. "That would be great, Zia, thanks."

"Large iced mocha with cream and sugar?"

"Extra mocha."

"You got it." She made a dash for the door. "Be back in fifteen."

I felt a little guilty having her bring me stuff like that, but I figured I could get through the day with a little pick-me-up. Besides, she had offered, so why not? I went back to reading my emails when not too long after that, my desk phone rang.

"Don't hang up. Please."

I almost did. Should have, probably. I knew that voice anywhere; it was Karen. I had no idea how she managed to reach me, but there I was, about to give her three seconds to convince me to continue that call. Part of me wondered if Owen gave her my work number, but that was silly. She'd need Owen's number for that, and she'd have no way to get that, if not through me.

"Claire, please," she said. "I just want to talk."

"I'm really busy," I said. "I have a huge workload today."

"Just please hear me out, okay? Please? Give me five minutes. You haven't answered my calls or texts this weekend."

That's because you stress me the hell out. It was a shame that we grew apart after the park incident those three years ago, but it wasn't exactly my number one cause for losing sleep, either. In many ways, Karen thought she was my mother, and sometimes seemed to look down on me for not having kids. I was never good with them, and even when my nephews were little, I had a hard time connecting with them. I tried my best throughout the years, hoping that birthday and Christmas gifts would make up for me not being a great aunt, but even then, I still felt her silent judgement. A comment here, an indirect comment there—it all just made me want to stay away. The park incident was the catalyst in our drift away from each other, a ticking time bomb waiting to go off.

I understand the whole thing was my fault, but being reminded of it was not fun. It seemed like there was always an accusation of some sort whenever we did talk.

"I didn't mean to sound bitchy the other day, okay? I'm just worried about you."

"You don't have to worry about me. I'm fine."

"Claire, you don't understand. You could have died three years ago." Here we go. Here comes the finger pointing. "Since you don't tell me anything, I had to look you up. Nice website for the Dinosaur Protection Group, by the way. These monsters you meddle with are deadly. I'd heard about you going to the island, and I didn't know if you would make it back."

I looked at the time on my computer screen. "You got three minutes left."

There was a moment of silence before Karen basically erupted. "This a joke to you, isn't it? Here I am, worried to death about you, wondering if you're even alive, and you don't even care. I had to move heaven and earth to find you because you couldn't be bothered for one second to answer my concerned texts!"

That was when I lost it, too. I was normally good at keeping my composure in public, more so at work where I had to maintain a level of professionalism at all times. But I couldn't control the not-so-involuntary jolt out of my chair. The chair smacked the wall behind me with a pretty hard thud. I knew some people were probably already looking my way out of curiosity and, possibly, concern. But I pressed on anyway.

"You think I think this is a joke? You don't have the slightest clue what I've been through! I've been lied to, I've been betrayed, chased, hunted, stabbed! I almost died, Karen! I almost drowned! You're sitting at home with your kids and your wonderfully boring and mundane life, and I'm here, dealing with situations beyond my control! If it makes you feel any better, every day I wish I had died over there! I wish I didn't have to deal with half the things I face, but we can't all be as perfect as you are!"

Shit! I immediately thought. Shit, shit, shit! I had said too much. I let too much get by. I hadn't meant to take it as far as I did. I felt panic rise in my throat, and I knew I needed to hang up now.

"Claire, please—" She may have been crying at this point, but I wasn't sure. And in that moment, I couldn't bring myself to care.

"Fuck you!" I screamed and hung up. Zia was right at the door now with a coffee in each hand. She walked in with a calm demeanor now, but her eyes were wide with concern.

"What happened? Is everything okay?"

"Everything is fine," I lied. "Thank you, Zia." I had to reach for the coffee that looked darker than the other since she was standing there, frozen.

"Are you sure? Half the office just heard you scream at someone over the phone."

I sat down and took a couple of deep breaths. I had to calm myself down; my hands were shaking, and my heart felt like it was beating inside my throat. When I looked up, Zia's face of concern was still etched into her features, mouth hanging slightly open.

"I'm so sorry you had to witness that," I said, paused, took another deep breath. "It won't happen again. I swear."

Zia didn't seem to be having any of it, though. "Do you need me to call Owen?"

"Why would I need you to call Owen?"

The corners of her mouth lifted into an almost cocky-like smirk. "Come on. You and him… you know?"

"No, I don't know."

"Just thought maybe you needed him to kick someone's ass or something."

I glared at her until she got the hint, apologized, and went back to her desk to continue working. But my hands were still trembling, and my head was still reeling from the talk with my sister. I itched to call Owen. In a time like this, he was the only comfort I knew I could seek. But I didn't want to bother him with something that would be insignificant the next day, and I let it be.

Long after everyone had left, I was still sitting at my desk reading emails and reviewing paperwork. I'd never in my life received so many emails after being absent for a few days. Some people liked to write essays in their emails, too, which took up even more time for me to read and respond. My source of light was a cheap table lamp I had on my desk; the rest of the office was dark. It was bit creepy when I really thought about it. No one there, just me and my thoughts.

Which is why my soul nearly left my body when I heard a knock at my office door. I swung my hand out in surprise and knocked over my empty coffee cup that I should have thrown out hours ago. Tiny pieces of solid ice and melted ones spilled out onto the floor. When I looked up, Owen was looking at me through the door, with an amused smile on his face.

I waved him in and he stepped through, holding two bags of food.

"Wow, is it dark in here or what?"

"You scared the crap out of me," I said.

He laughed. "I wish I had that on camera, so I could send it to Fail Army."

I smiled. "You could have told me you were coming. Now I have to pick up this mess."

"Oh, leave it." He set the food down on the desk. "I'm assuming you probably haven't eaten anything, so here."

"McDonald's, Owen?" I was still happy and grateful to see food; I just needed an opportunity to tease him.

"You're welcome, Claire."

I plopped back down and all-but devoured one of the Big Macs in it. He reached into one of the bags and pulled out a stack of napkins. He bent down and started cleaning up the spill. I offered to help, but he waved me off. It wasn't a huge spill to begin with, and he was done in no time. What have you done to deserve him? I thought. He brings you food and cleans up a mess you made. You don't deserve any of this at all.

I was reaching for my fries when he said, "Ready?"

"Uhh… I'm not done."

"Yeah, you are," he said. "You're not staying here all night."

"I have a lot of w—"

"A lot of work," he finished. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. The thing is I Ubered here, and I don't want to spend all night in this office. So, finish your fries in the car and let's go."

"You took an Uber here? Nobody made you do that."

"Yeah, but when you're stubborn as hell, someone has to drag you out of here by any means necessary." He actually snatched the bag of fries from my hand and tossed them in the bag, which he pulled out my reach. "Even if it means guilt-tripping you." He winked. "Let's go."

I wanted to stay behind and resist him, but the silence that followed as he was leaving left me uneasy. I powered everything off and followed after him in the dark, bumping into a few things on my way out. He was holding the elevator door open for me as I stepped inside.

"How'd you get into the building?"

"I'm just that good." He smiled.

"No, really?"

"Let's just say a little birdie helped me get in."

Zia, I thought. Knowing her, she probably got something in return for her service. I wouldn't put anything past her, despite her possible good intentions.

I drove home, digging my hand into the food bag occasionally to reach for the fries. Even Owen was eating some of my fries, like he hadn't downed his own on the way to meet me. I dropped him off at his house, and he asked me if I'd be staying. Though I would have liked to, I told him I'd go home and get things situated there. Getting things situated was another way of me burying myself into my thoughts and throwing myself the best pity-parties.

Once I got home, I immediately regretted not staying with Owen. But I reminded myself that I really didn't deserve him, and it was probably for the best that he got a break from me. I thought back to my conversation with Karen earlier that day. I cringed thinking about how everyone heard me. No one really expressed concern, except Zia and she was out getting coffee.

Stop with the pity party, Claire, I told myself. You're blowing this way out of proportion. But the other half of me was in favor of them. I took a shower, turning the water all the way to the hottest setting and stood there until I could no longer physically stand there. My skin was a lovely flaming red shade after I got out.

I crawled into my bed and felt the ache of my muscles. My thigh was throbbing, but I was far too lazy to get out of bed and take anything. My mind was racing with tons of thoughts. I thought about Karen and how much she probably hated me now (thanks to my wonderful way with words). She had probably told her kids that I was a terrible aunt, as if they needed another reason to believe that. I thought about the past week and everything we'd all been through. Everything was running through my mind like scenes in a movie.

I realized that night that the nightmares were back to stay. As I drifted off into sleep, I found myself back in the gyrosphere with Franklin, after we'd fallen off the cliff. He was panicking, but I knew this had all happened to me before already. It was like I was rewatching a clip of everything I'd been through. Only this time, a Triceratops landed right on top of the sphere, and we sank farther into the water. Water was seeping inside at a faster rate now, but we were in too deep for Owen to swim down and save us.

We're not gonna make it, Franklin yelled, panic overtaking his voice entirely.

Yes, we are! Take a deep breath, I assured him.

But the moment I took a deep breath, the glass around us burst and water filled my mouth and nostrils. I woke up in a sweat, gasping for air. It was so quiet in my room. When I looked at the clock by my bed, I'd only been sleeping for two hours. I reached over for my phone and saw I had a few email and social media notifications. I had two text messages from Owen, which I wasted no time opening.

You still haven't told me what you were looking for the other day at my house. I rolled my eyes. Seriously? Anyway, I was thinking Taco Bell for lunch tomorrow? Don't worry, I won't blackmail Zia this time (kidding!). And in a separate text: P.S., I love you, in case you forget.

That made my night a little better. It certainly got a giddy smile from me. I unplugged my phone and rolled over onto the other side of my bed. I wrote back, Taco Bell sounds great. Remind me to have a talk with Zia tomorrow. P.S., I love you, too. Wish I was w/ you tonight.

Almost immediately, he was typing back a response. Umm, go to sleep? U have work tomorrow. Also, I offered, so… A shrugging girl emoji followed.

Can't sleep, I wrote back.

Nightmares? he asked.

Maybe.

Do you need me to come over?

For a nightmare? I had to stop and think about it for a moment. He was obviously willing to come, but was it worth having him drive all the way here for one thing? Although I craved him, I figured I shouldn't bother him. I didn't want him to feel like it he was obligated, or like it was his sole responsibility, to come to my rescue every time I had one little nightmare. And truthfully, it wasn't as bad as it could have been. Three years ago, after the park was run down by the dinosaurs, I was having the most vivid nightmares after everything ended. This was child's play in comparison to the first time it happened. I reminded myself that I didn't deserve this kindness.

I'm okay, I lied. Promise.

Ok then. Good night.

I couldn't sleep after that. I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling for a few hours, or at least until my eyes burned and I had to close them. I still couldn't sleep after that, my mind racing with a bunch of different thoughts. Finally, I decided to scour my medicine cabinet for something to help me sleep. I found some melatonin pills stashed away in the back of the shelf there, which I took. It made me sleepy after about twenty minutes, but I still couldn't sleep. I lay in bed all night, feeling myself slowly start to drift away, only to be jolted right back awake. I had no idea what to do. I legitimately felt sleepy, but was unable to sleep.

In the morning, I sucked it up and went to work. Franklin and Zia were sometimes there way before the other employees and volunteers, so they would chat. I rarely saw them talk and interact in that way, especially since Zia's personality was usually enough for Franklin to cower away, but I tried not to bother them. Today, however, I brought iced coffee for the three of us, so, like it or not, I had to butt into their conversation.

"Morning," I said, my attempt at sounding happy and bubbly actually coming off as a half-hearted mumble.

They stopped and stared at me, getting a good look at me. I must have looked terrible because they were silent for a few seconds.

"Did you sleep?" Franklin asked.

"You look like you haven't slept in days," Zia added.

"And a good morning to you, too," I said sarcastically. I handed them their coffees and sat down next to them. They mumbled their thanks.

"Any updates?" I asked.

Zia sighed. "Nothing too out of the ordinary. You have a couple of messages, meetings requests—the usual." She shrugged. "Oh, and I don't know if you heard, but a dinosaur completely obliterated half a neighborhood in Montana, so there's that."

I groaned. "Wonderful."

The day went on rather uneventfully. I was answering calls, setting up appointments and meetings, and texting Owen in the midst of it at all. He stayed true to his word and came by lunch time with Taco Bell. Zia and Franklin were looking at us through my office door, both actually giggling like school girls. Owen saw me looking and laughed.

"Looks like we have a fanbase," he said.

He sat down next to me and pulled out the food from the bag. He handed me two chicken chalupas. Having skipped breakfast, I took a humungous bite of the taco.

"You look like you need some sleep," Owen pointed out.

"Does anyone have anything nice to say about my face today?" I said, a mouthful of taco making me sound funny.

"Sure. I like your face," Owen said. "But it's better when it looks rested."

"So… I look like a trainwreck then. Basically."

"I wouldn't say trainwreck, necessarily. More like…"
"Like…?"

"Like a plane crash. Maybe." He smirked.

"Thank you, Owen."

We both laughed at the ridiculous joke, but I could tell there was some real concern in him. He kept stealing glances over at me every few seconds. I pretended that I didn't notice and just kept my eyes down. I was about to say something when Owen said, "For real, though. Are you sleeping okay?"

I felt like I'd been caught, even though there was nothing exactly to hide. "Sure," I said, the big, fat lie leaving my lips easily. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Are you still having nightmares?"

I scoffed. "Owen, it was a pretty traumatizing thing we all went through. Who wouldn't have nightmares here and then?"

He grew quiet for a moment, seemingly turning that thought over and over in his head. "It's okay to not be okay, Claire," he finally said. For a second, I felt a chill go down my spine. He was looking right at me, but also right through me. He always seemed to know what I was thinking. I felt exposed, naked. Like no matter how many times I tried to convince him of something, he just knew there was something more.

Still, he had his own issues and his own life stuff to worry about. I couldn't live with myself if I knew my burdens became his burdens, too. So I put on a smile and said, "Really, Owen, I'm fine. You have nothing to worry about. Last night was a little rough, but who doesn't have that every once in a while?"

He didn't look convinced at all. He sighed. "I just worry, that's all."

"Well, don't. I'm a big girl who can handle things."

He still didn't look like he was buying it. To try to rest my case, I took his hand in mine and patted it. It was the first time I stopped and noticed how big his hand was in comparison to mine. How rough and almost calloused-like it felt. The gesture was supposed to be reassuring, but I wasn't very convincing at it, obviously, and he looked unmoved by it. I hated that he could see right through my bullshit sometimes.

"I promise you have nothing to worry about," I said. Liar, I told myself. Freakin' liar. This is why you don't deserve him. All you do is lie.

"I'll hold you to that promise."

I pulled away. "You have my word."

He left shortly after that. Zia and Franklin were still chatting away like little school girls, giggling and stealing glances over my way, as if I didn't know what they could possibly be talking about.

Every day, I was losing the battle called life. Despite my promise to Owen, I wasn't doing great. At all. I didn't know how to reach out, and I was scared that I'd put too much on his plate when he was already dealing with his own battles if I talked to him. At night, I couldn't sleep. Whenever I did sleep, it would be for two or three hours at a time. I wasn't eating well, or much, really. In the mornings, I couldn't be bothered to make myself anything to eat, so unless Owen (or someone else) brought me food, I didn't eat much. At home, I'd sometimes make frozen dinners, or I'd eat half a box of Cheez-Its; it depended on my mood.

My energy was declining slowly but surely. I lounged around my bed whenever I was home, sometimes finding the simplest task the most challenging. I hadn't seen Owen much outside of work in the past week, and I felt so guilty about that. I knew he busy, so it probably wasn't too huge a deal for him. But I still felt terrible.

The nightmares were back almost every time I managed to catch a snooze. I continued to dream that I was dying, too far away from Owen's reach. Sometimes I watched him die in front of me. I knew the melatonin was helping me have those vivid nightmares on some occasions, but even that didn't stop me from taking them often. It felt like I was always waking up in a sweat. At work, most people noticed something different about me. I tried to act like I always did, but some people were concerned. Zia kept trying to stare me down and break me for answers or whatever.

Nothing is wrong, was what I told everyone. Everything is fine.

Nothing was okay. I was losing my grip on things, and I knew it. I wanted to end everything, just disconnect myself from my thoughts at least for a little while. I was coming home from work and just crying on the bathroom floor sometimes for no reason at all.