Claire's POV
After my little run-in with the boss after work hours, I was left feeling oddly destabilized.
The problem was the way his eyes had met mine, and I swear there had been a flicker of something in them, something that felt like it had to do with me. It left me confused.
Louis Smith had always been handsome. Tall, with piercing grey eyes, his jaw carved to perfection, shoulders broad, posture precise; the kind of presence that commanded attention without a word.
Yet up close, his face softened in unexpected ways. The curve of his lips when he thought no one was watching, the subtle warmth in his eyes. I wouldn't say I noticed him that much… not really.
But his presence was impossible to ignore. He was attractive, yes, but too rigid, too stiff. He barely spoke more than necessary; humor and small talk were foreign to him. That's why I'm left bothered by the last encounter back at the office. Did he have something to say to me? I wonder what it was that—
My train of thought is interrupted by a semi-loud snort from Abby, my friend.
They're talking about something like baby carriers, and I'm completely lost. I don't seem to be invited into the conversation.
I'm not exactly fond of our gatherings in recent times. My laughter always seems too fake, too forced.
"So," Abby suddenly says, swirling wine in her glass, "when are we attending your wedding?"
Abby and Sasha are my two friends from high school. Abby and I were neighbors, living across the street from each other. We pretty much grew up together. She got married right after college to her high school sweetheart, Jake Winfield.
Sasha, on the other hand, got engaged to her college beau, Taylor Chester, about six months ago, and now they're expecting. I'm genuinely happy for her. She's always dreamed of starting her own family. Having been adopted as a child by two wonderful parents, that dream has always meant something special to her.
I shift uncomfortably in my seat, unsure of what to say as I take another sip from what seems to be my fourth glass of wine.
Both Abby and Sasha burst out in teasing laughter. I smile, strained and bashful, my fingers tightening around my glass.
"Come on, Claire. You need to settle down. We should have all our kids become a trio like us three," Sasha says, eyes pleading. Abby nods in agreement.
"I'm just focusing on work," I sigh, replying lightly. I'm genuinely too focused on work and making enough money to sort out my family.
"That's what you said last year," Sasha says.
"And the year before," Abby adds.
Heat creeps up my neck. I won't say I feel embarrassed. It's nothing to be embarrassed about. But it does feel… some type of way.
And I love my friends, truly, I do. But some days, the constant reminders make me feel like I'm running out of time, like I'm being left behind, missing out on something so important.
They both laugh at my obvious deflection and awkward silence.
"Claire, come on. You're the only single one in our friend group now. We need you to join in on the fun. You should at least have someone you're seeing. Sooner or later, we'll run out of topics to include you in," Sasha says teasingly, eyes lightly pleading.
I'm fairly sure marriage shouldn't be that big of a deal. I mean, I'm only 27 and it's not the only purpose in life as a woman. But then, deep down, I truly do yearn for a family.
I grew up with a single mother and my grandma, and it sometimes didn't feel complete. Don't get me wrong, I love my little family. I grew up in a normal household filled with love and warmth, but it never truly felt whole. My dad passed away when I was about three; I barely remember his face. I only ever saw pictures of him and my mum from their dating phase.
And I'm also starting to feel left out of the conversations. The code words. The inside jokes. The meetings they have without bothering to invite me, simply because I "wouldn't understand" or "wouldn't relate."
I'm a couple of wine glasses in, fairly tipsy but still sane. Which is why I'm shocked by what comes over me and leads to my next outburst. Maybe it's exhaustion. Maybe pride. Maybe something deeper. Longing?.
"I'm seeing someone," I announced suddenly.
I wince, immediately regretting my words. I look around to see my friends' reactions, and the table goes silent. Both of them have their eyes on me, curious, doubting. The silence is deafening.
I freeze, studying their faces, trying to gauge what they're thinking.
"You are?" Abby gasps.
"Yes," I respond, my heart racing. "It's… quite serious. We're talking about marriage."
The lie continues to pour out of me in waves, settling heavy in my chest. But the relief is immediate as their surprise softens into concern, and then excitement. Questions follow.
"What does he do?" Abby asks cheerfully.
"When do we meet him?" Sasha follows. "Why didn't you tell us sooner?" she adds, pouting, looking betrayed.
I laugh awkwardly, deflecting, unsure how much I trust myself not to spill more lies that will eventually blow my cover.
We laugh and talk some more, mostly about my apparent relationship, until it's time to go home. We all have work tomorrow, and I leave with a headache, not from the wine, but from the weight of my lies.
It's about an hour to midnight when I get home.
That night, lying alone in bed, the guilt from lying to my friends gnaws at me. I'm not proud of the lie, but I'm not ashamed either. I just wanted peace. Just for a while. A bit of inclusion. A feeling of belonging.
The next morning, I walked into work with my usual composure, reanalyzing the events from yesterday night. The instant regret from the unnecessary lie I told. I'm thinking of a way to fix it, whether to call them and inform them that it's all drunken talk, that we broke up?
I'm still making up excuses to rectify my drunken blunder when I was suddenly called to the office. The boss just asked to see me.
I straightened my blazer and stepped into his office.
"Good day sir, you sent for me" I ask, waiting to take new orders.
He sits by his desk, the city stretching behind him.
"Claire, Good morning. Please, Sit," he said. His voice suspiciously calm.
I did. Unsure of what this sudden call is all about.
This was beginning to look and feel a bit different. The atmosphere in his office feels like it just shifted.
He turned to face me, his eyes sharp, and his expression unreadable. Asides that familiar glint in his eyes, the one he had the other night. I'm unsure what's about to unfold.
"Marry me" he says, in the most calm expression.
I feel the breath leave my lungs.
"I beg your pardon?"