Chapter 121 - The Utter Wrongness

Claire is on the verge of tears as she runs out of the doors. Blood pounds in her ears, and she almost didn't hear Dean when he asked, "Where to, Miss Claire?"

"What?"

"Where would you like to go?"

"I need to see Gab," she says. This couldn't wait. This couldn't be simply relayed on the phone. It needs to be said up close and personal.

If Dean had questions, he didn't say it. He just focused on the road and calmly, if not speedily, tried to reach Gabriel Tan's building, which is a few blocks away.

Claire replays everything in her mind, and somehow, despite all the red flags about Miguel, she couldn't believe it. Miguel knew what she had gone through with Jake Magno. He knew and he empathized. So why would he even do that? Is he insane?

Claire shivers in the backseat. She's not sure how serious Miguel was about his intention to harm her, but she has read too many crime novels to avoid thinking it could have gotten worse. Miguel could have succeeded in overpowering her, then bringing her to God-knows-where, and maybe, after the gruesome deed, that crime escalating to full-blown murder isn't too unthinkable. A chill runs down her spine; how easily the dream could have turned into a nightmare.

Claire is so deep in her thoughts of self-annihilation and drama that the door opening up surprises her. Dean extends a hand to help her out.

She grabs it, like someone drowning would grab a lifeline.

"Would you like me to accompany you, Miss Claire?" There's concern in Dean's voice. After all, one look at her and it's clear something's indeed very wrong.

"Thanks, Dean. But I can manage," Claire says. She even manages to smile.

Claire steels her nerves and soldiers on, although her crumbling sense of certainty is betrayed by her uneven step. She feels as though the walls are closing in around her, and yet, she must find Gab before Miguel gets hold of him.

She isn't sure how she got up all the way to Gabriel's penthouse. The next thing she knows, the door opens to Gabriel with his arms wide open, so happy to see him.

"I missed you like the desert missed the rain," Gabriel whispers to her ear, his arms tightly around her.

There's a lump in her throat; in her mind, Miguel in that darkened lobby, saying hurtful things to her. "I missed you too, Gab," she manages to whisper back, although her voice is hoarse. She even returns his embrace.

Gabriel is animated, like she has never seen him before. "It's great that you're here!" he says, pulling her in one arm toward his study room. "You're just on time!"

Claire is puzzled for a moment. "Did anything happen?"

Gabriel smiles. He opens the door theatrically. And there, on his big-ass iPad, is Miguel on FaceTime. "He has already forgiven me," Gab says cheerfully. "I told you my dear brother wouldn't be able to resist me. We're like two peas in a pod."

Claire is white as sheet. She glares at Miguel on the screen. Miguel, in turn, waves at her like what happened just minutes earlier never took place. "Hi, Claire," he even says cheerfully, his tinny voice sending a chill down her spine. For some reason, all Claire could see are Miguel's perfect white teeth on the iPad screen. "How are you doing?"

Claire freezes for longer than normal. In her head is a storm of conflict and contradiction. Her gut reaction is to scream her lungs out, "Murder! ****! Et cetera!" She feels like her head is going to explode.

But Gabriel turns to her and so innocently says, "That's why I love my brother. I'm glad he's already past my silly little prank the other night. Isn't that great?"

Claire turns to him. Her true emotions possibly quiver on her face that Gabriel's brow knits in confusion. "What's wrong, honey?"

There's a lump in her throat. And in a split second, she almost chooses to spill the beans and tell Gabriel EVERYTHING—everything that happened, every little machination that Miguel has been doing behind his back, down to those dark few moments at the lobby of her office building.

But then again, on the crest of that wave of anger is a memory of that night, not so long ago, when Miguel was a kind human being who sat with her in the dark lobby of some hospital, waiting for Gabriel to wake up. Where's that kind human being now? Where was he when this insane version of Miguel was in the lobby of her office building?

"Anything wrong?" Gabriel says, lovingly tucking a tendril of her hair behind her ear. "What seems to be the matter?"

Claire glances at the iPad and sees Miguel gazing at them, watching this scene. Did she see a glimmer—just a glimmer—of worry in his eyes? Is he afraid she'd confess and tell on him?

How she'd love to unmask this man. But then again, Miguel is perhaps the only person in the world who truly understands Gabriel. What happens to the two brothers if she confesses?

Claire sighs. Her brain is all fried up; all she sees is this white-hot confusion, and Gabriel's innocent face asking her about what is wrong.

In the end, she tries to smile. "Nothing. Nothing's wrong." She shakes her head, trying not to look in the iPad's direction. "I'm just a bit tired, that's all."

Gabriel gazes into her eyes, trying to fathom her inner truth. But sadly, given his quite limited experience with women, he fails to realize that Claire is serving him a white lie. He loving puts his arms around her and kisses her on the forehead. "Poor princess. You're tired and yet you still had to go here. You could have just gone straight home."

Claire smiles despite what she feels. "I wanted to see you. Make sure you've properly taken your meds. You're not going anywhere, Gabriel. I'll make sure you're fine and healthy and—"

"I'm super fine," Gabriel says, laughing. "And now that you're here, I can't even imagine I was ever sick."

Finally, Claire lets her emotions get the best of her and she buries her face in Gabriel's ċhėst, sobbing uncontrollably.

"There, there," Gabriel whispers, hugging her tightly, not letting go. "I didn't realize you're THIS tired. I'm so sorry."

"No, don't say that," she says, her voice muffled. "Don't…"

As she sobs, the memory of the recent past flashes in her head. How she almost lost this man. How everything seems crazy. How hard it seems to be to stay in love with someone like Gabriel, with all his massive commitments, with everything that surrounds him, all good and bad and exciting and terrifying and…

For a long moment they stayed like that in each other's arms, until her sobs slowly subside. And they would have stayed like that even longer if Miguel didn't clear his throat; as it turns out, he has been quietly watching them.

"Oh, sorry, Migs," Gabriel says. "I didn't realize you're still there."

Miguel laughs, but that laughter would not fool Claire now. It's all fake.

"No worries," Miguel says. "So. See you guys when I see you, okay?"

"Sure," Gabriel says. "Take care, bro."

"You, too." Then a pause, pregnant with meaning. "And you, too, Claire. Always watch your back."

Anger surges in Claire's throat, and she would have lashed at him if not for Gabriel. A deep breath. Focus on the center of things. "Sure, Migs," she eventually manages to say. "I appreciate your extraordinary concern for my welfare. Thank you."

"Anything for you, Claire," Miguel says, his eyes dead-set on her. "I'll do anything for you."

"Well, that's rich coming from you," Claire says, unable to stop herself.

Gabriel's gaze ping-pongs from Claire to Miguel to Claire. He feels like something's weird is going on, he just couldn't quite put a finger on it. Then to Miguel: "Migs, lunch tomorrow, what say you?"

"Sure," Miguel says. "I'll be there."

"Great," Gabriel says. Then Miguel's face blinks out on the iPad.

"What was that?" Gabriel turns to her. "Is something going on?"

Claire gazes at him. For the last time, he's asking her about the truth. But telling the truth is easy if things were not this complicated. If Gabriel is not Gabriel, and Miguel's not his beloved brother, the only person who knows and understands him. If she didn't come to their lives, there wouldn't be anything like this. When you look at it from another perspective, it seems Claire is the destroyer of peace and goodwill among men and brothers, the awkward seductress who makes men fall head over heels. But maybe she has a choice. Maybe she can choose to look the other way. Maybe she can still talk it over with Miguel.

"Nothing," she finally says, trying to smile her best, fakest smile. "I'm just tired, Gab. Maybe I should just go home."