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Being Her

A series of one-shots in Claire's perspective throughout the series For Her.

Um, will not go in any order. they come as i get bored enough to write them. PSSSTTT if you want a new story, go review with her!

35. Love You Too

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“Claire! Oh, my baby! Are you all right?”

The woman looks just like me. She is a complete stranger. I study the line of her brow, the thickness of her lips, the sweep of her hair, the green of her eyes, and recognize nothing but what I could see in the mirror.

This is supposed to be my mother.

I do not know her. I feel neither the warmth I remembered from my childhood nor the hatred I feel, in the abstract, now. She is no one to me.

“Thanks to Quil, mostly.”

I give him a glance over my shoulder and he smiles a little.

My mother’s arms close like a vice around me. I can feel her over-eager hands patting up and down, softly striking my back and arms. It is not painful, nor is that the intent (more like a seizure than a slap) but it’s enough like my tormented memories to be painful.

“Oh, sweetie, are you okay? What’s wrong? Don’t you worry about anything. You can just come with me now and everything will go back to normal and…”

I cut her off. This is one thing, this meeting here, this hug, fine. I owe her that much. But I can’t let her take me away from Quil, Quil who I love, Quil who loves me, Quil who I trust. No, I won’t let that happen again.

Not again.

I pull myself from her arms. “You want me to come with you.”

“Of course! You’re my baby girl. I lo…”

Again, I interrupt. “You think we can just pretend the last fourteen years never happened? You haven’t seen me since I was four. Since you gave me up like it didn’t matter so your life would be easy. So you could have what you wanted. It’s not happening.”

What I’ve said is the truth, but it sounds so cruel. I hate myself a little more with every word.

“Why not?”

“Because you want me to go live someone else’s life. The life I should have had. The life I would have had. I’m not the little girl who didn’t know how to say ‘mommy’ yet. I’ve done and been and seen things you can’t imagine, and I’m not going back. Sorry.”

I tack the apology on at the end. It seems hollow, even to my own ears.

“I’m sorry, Claire,” she replies.

“Sorry isn’t enough. Sorry is never going to be enough. I can’t understand. I can’t understand how you could let this happen. I, ma’am, am the one who’s sorry. I’m sorry that I don’t have it in me to forgive you. I won’t. I won’t come live with you. I’m going to stay here with Quil, where I’m safe. I’m sorry,” I repeat, and this time it’s the truth.
“Don’t you want to have a normal life?”

Normal. Like I can ever be normal! I’m still afraid of everything from physical contact to my own shadow. I’m in love with a werewolf. I’m never going to be normal.

“No. I like my life. I like living here with the pack and my friends and school and Quil. You signed me over, remember. I’m not your kid anymore. You can’t come revoke that fourteen years later. You don’t know me,” and I don’t know you.

“You don’t want to be my daughter?” she asks.

I never missed having parents. The simple idea of them terrifies me. Quil is the only family I really need, with Sam and Emily sometimes and the rest of the pack on good days.

I’m not anyone’s daughter. She gave me up. I was my father’s victim. I was never a daughter.

Suddenly, I’m desperate to escape from this choking remnant of the life that could have been mine.

“No. I don’t. And if you don’t mind, I need to go home. Good-bye, Mrs. Denson.”

“Bye, Claire.”


I stalk off to the car. Quil opens the door for me, as always, and I manage to buckle the seatbelt before collapsing in tears on his shoulder.

“I’m such a terrible person…” I stutter. I can see the pain I’ve left her in. That brand of brutal honesty is deeply cruel. It’s more than what’s fair.

“No, you’re not. That was a beautiful, brave thing to do, and I’m very proud of you.”

I let those sweet words ring in my ears while I cried for a while longer.



“Not to scare you, but just so you know… I love you.”

I listen as he speaks, and then, before I can even stop to consider it, the truth leaps out.

Because I trust Quil. What’s the point of wanting him near if I can’t trust him to love me?

And I do.

“I love you too.”