Part 35

                                    

                                          
"I couldn't really enjoy the dinner after his dad asked me that question," I complained to Claire, swirling the spoon around my bowl of ice cream.  
                          
"What did he ask you, Lee?" she questioned me worriedly, sitting cross-legged on the edge of the bed.
                          
"He asked me what Jason and I were going to do after I go back home," I muttered, frowning at the recent memory.
                          
Claire's shoulders relaxed as though she were expecting something much worse. "But you and Jason talked about that, didn't you?"
                          
"Well," I sighed. "We didn't really get the chance to talk about it on the drive here."
                          
"No," Claire said, her perfectly straight hair catching the light as she shook her head. "I meant, didn't you and Jason discuss your future when you started dating?"
                          
The way she raised the question made it seem like it was an obvious, natural thing that Jason and I should have done. 
                          
I stared at the floor pointedly when I mumbled my answer, "We didn't, Claire." 
                          
"We didn't talk about it," I repeated, a wave of chagrin and panic washing over me. "That's why it got so awkward at dinner."
                          
My insides felt just as cold as the bowl of ice cream in my hands when I realised how stupid and careless I had been.
                          
"Lee, darling," Claire said slowly, forcing me to look up at her. "Why haven't you talked about it?"
                          
"I don't know, Claire," I cringed in dismay. "I don't know!"
                          
So caught up in the moment with Jason that I couldn't bother to think about our future. 
                          
Is that my excuse?
                          
"Leena," Claire said again, her emerald eyes wide with disapproval and concern. "You're going back home in a week."
                          
"Eight days," I corrected her glumly. "My flight is on Monday."
                          
Eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one.
                          
"Eight days," I whispered repeatedly, burying my face in my hands.
                          
I looked up when I felt Claire's fingers grip my shoulders gently. 
                          
"Lee, there's no need to panic," she said. "But you should talk about this with Jason as soon as you can."
                          
Stemming the tears that brimmed in my eyes with the tips of my fingers, I mumbled, "Okay, I'll talk to him tomorrow."
                          
She wrapped her arms around me, murmuring reassurances with so much warmth that her words managed to soothe my worries.
                          
Jason and I will talk about it. 
                          
It'll be okay. 
                          
We'll be fine.
                          
Claire pulled away from me and pecked my cheek.
                          
 "I should get to bed," she smiled softly. "Don't stay up too late, darling."
                          
"Good night," I called before Claire closed the bedroom door behind her with a soft click.
                          
***
                          
I pushed the French windows wide open, squinting against the bright morning sun. The sounds of the ocean, cars, and people accompanied the fresh sunlight that spilt into the room. 
                          
Rummaging under the covers of my unmade bed, I pulled out my phone to compose a text to Jason. But when I noticed that I had received a reply from Chris sometime during the previous night, I clicked on the message to read it.