I remember the first day Claire walked into my office. Her eyes were undeniably familiar. I knew I had seen them before.

For a secretary, she had an extreme level professionalism which led me to forget about where I knew her from and focus on work – we worked well together. She was always in sync. 

One day, I received one of the many calls from my parents urging me to get married. I had every intention of marrying one day but it wasn’t a priority and having constant reminders was tiring. By the end of that conversation, I was spent and a migraine had already begun to surface. I had multiple girlfriends before and our relationships were always great in the beginning, that is until Charlotte would intervene. I was always available to Charlotte with no exceptions and that was intolerable for each one of them. None of them could accept the amount of attention I’d dedicate to her or the relationship I had with her. 

One of my exes went so far as to label Charlotte a ‘home wrecker’ and each one of them requested that I stay away from her. I despised that Charlotte lost her ability to walk and I was aware that she would ask for attention with every intention of causing a rift in my relationships. But I was also understanding – seeing that she was afraid of my relationships causing distance between her and I. 

It was too much to bear for any of my relationships. None could withstand the dedication they longed for – being given to someone else and a breakup followed each time. 

This happened so often that I had developed a way of avoiding relationships altogether. 

Then there was Claire. 

After the call, Claire happened to walk into my office and I blurted out “Claire, go on a date with me” while reviewing documents that needed to be sent out. I don’t what it was that made me want a relationship. I didn’t feel the need to avoid her. I enjoyed her company, although it was paid – it brought me joy. A joy I had constantly and deliberately tried to ignore. 

When Claire agreed to go out with me – I felt something change. I would be eager to finish my work and be with her. 

Everything just fit when it came to my time with Claire. She eased my stress, made me happy and I was relaxed around her and I had never felt that before. 

In the last five years, the entirety of our marriage, Claire has been a phenomenal wife. She was understanding of my situation and care for Charlotte. 

Until today. 

Why did you do this? Why would you purposely hurt Charlotte? 

“It was an accident”. That was part of her rambled response. 

I can still remember the way her eyes looked as she begged me to believe her, the red tear-blotched eyes as she denied what she had done. That conversation had ended once I left the room and Claire to hurry Charlotte to the hospital. 

After taking the time to get Charlotte situated in the car safely, I sped to the hospital with not another thought on my mind nor care to. 

“Leo, I don’t think Claire meant to hurt me. We were having a bit of heated discussion at that moment, but I don’t remember it being on purpose.” Charlotte said this from hospital bed where she lay with a pale face. The doctor said temporary memory loss isn’t uncommon with a head injury but he also said her injuries don’t indicate that being a symptom. 

“Don’t worry, I will deal with her.” Making a promise I’d have no choice but to uphold to somehow. “You just need to get some rest.” 

Claire was firm on this matter – proclaiming coincidence and innocence. How was I going to solve or handle this problem? I had to figure it out – I promised Charlotte. I would. 

I left Charlotte’s room and ward and walked the neighboring wards just to breathe. 

I walked endless corridors until I stopped at one with a familiar shadow. Is that Claire? 

I watched for a moment and it was Claire. She was pale and looked ill. Was she injured too? 

I remember shoving her out of the way as I went to assist Charlotte. Did I shove her too hard? Did I hurt her? 

I decide to check on her. 

Entering the room, I see a man sitting at her bedside, chatting with my wife happily, smiling at her with his hand on my her shoulder. 

“Claire.” I heard myself calling her eagerly and jealously.