Convicted (Consequences)

to afford to have the people, like you, watched, or have things occur, if I hadn’t bankrolled everything. I knew what I was supporting.”
    Claire nodded into his chest. It was her way of encouraging his words, without interrupting his thoughts.
    “You were different.” His arm tightened around her shoulder, pulling her closer. “You were the first person who personally interested me. You were so young. I was curious if I could actually influence someone’s life without them knowing it. The first thing I did—well, it wasn’t really to you. It was—”
    The warmth radiating from within Claire suddenly increased; she couldn’t stay silent any longer. The subject he was approaching was one of her greatest worries. Simon! She lifted her head to see Tony’s eyes. “It was Simon, wasn’t it?” She tried to keep her voice and breathing calm. “His internship with Rawlings Industries wasn’t a coincidence, was it?”
    Tony closed his eyes and didn’t respond.
    As the silence prevailed, Claire exhaled, lay her head back on her pillow and stared at the ceiling. The fan in the darkness hummed while the blades created a hazy blur. In the time it took her to blink, Tony’s face was over hers. She’d wanted to see his eyes and understand his emotion, and now, she had him right on top of her. His palpable rage filled their room, the humid air no longer moved, and it was suddenly difficult to breathe. Claire’s training told her to walk the fine line; however, somewhere in the three years since that training began, she’d taught herself to disobey. Defiantly, she asked, “Are you going to answer my question?”
    “No.” His warm breath bathed her face, adding to the still, humid air.
    She waited for more clarification. When he didn’t continue, she asked, “No? You aren’t going to answer?”
    “No”—each syllable was strained—“it wasn’t a coincidence.”
    The fury, which had saturated their conversation, evaporated as Claire’s muscles relaxed and the air re-entered her lungs. With his confession, she realized the anger she felt wasn’t directed at her or her questioning, it was directed back to Tony—he was upset with himself.
    The rumble of thunder loomed louder and closer. With their noses almost touching, Claire smiled. “Thank you. I know this is hard on you. I also know that revelation should upset me.” She lifted her lips to his. “Honestly, it was more of a confirmation than a revelation. Somehow, I think I feel better knowing the truth, no matter what it is.”
    Tony sighed. “I hope so, because my dear, there’s more.”
    Claire closed her eyes, unsure how much more she was ready to hear.
    “Open your eyes”—Tony demanded—“I need to see what you’re thinking.” Obediently, she did as he said. His next confession came with more emotion than she was accustomed to hearing from him. “My life hasn’t been perfect, yet I’ve never wasted my time envying anyone else. If something wasn’t the best it could be—I made it better. Never did I want to be someone else. That’s still true; however, there’s one person of whom I was jealous.”
    “Simon? Why?”
    “He was the only man I knew of that you loved. I did what I do—I made it better—for me. I separated the two of you.” Tony shook his head. “So you can imagine how shocked I was when he showed up at the symposium in Chicago. When he approached us, I didn’t know who he was until he asked to speak with you privately. Suddenly, I recognized him”—he paused—“Then...it was you I didn’t recognize.”
    Claire couldn’t process fast enough to respond. There were so many thoughts, yet all she could do was listen.
    “You were usually so perfect in public—flawless.”
    She remembered what could happen if she wasn’t; nevertheless, she stayed silent; her thoughts monopolized by this conversation’s destination.
    “Your expression and then...” Tony’s words trailed away as he privately relived the encounter. “You could hardly speak. Even the introduction was difficult for you.” Tony’s sudden restraint became visible as the muscles in his neck tensed and his tone hardened. “For maybe only a split second, because Mrs. Rawlings, you quickly remembered to play your part, I saw something in your eyes I’d never seen. When you recognized him, before you remembered who you were, who I was, for only a moment, you were that eighteen-year-old girl I’d seen in pictures.”
    She tried to speak,