Truth

sweet aroma permeated her senses. On her dresser, desk, and bedside stand were large bouquets of long stemmed red roses. Tears fill her eyes as she made her way to a card propped against one of the glittering vases with Claire penned on the outside of the small envelope.
    Gingerly opening the flap, Claire removed the small rectangle piece of card stock. Relief filled her consciousness and her tired muscles relaxed as she read the words:
    If you’re reading this, you didn’t move away... and I’m a jerk.
Now you know why I don’t drink—much.
It makes me an ass! I hope we can talk again – soon...
I promise to be more open. Can you forgive me? Harry
     
    She immediately reached for her iPhone and sent the text: THANK YOU FOR THE BEAUTIFUL FLOWERS! EXCESSIVE, BUT I LOVE THEM. YES, I CAN FORGIVE... IF YOU CAN? WE CAN TALK TOMORROW? I’M TIRED AND GOING TO BED AFTER A BATH. TOMORROW?
    Claire inhaled the jasmine from the dissolved bath salts, as her shoulders submerged under the warm water. Laying her head against the incline of the tub she closed her eyes and let her mind wander. There was too much to process, too many things to think about. From the distance of her room, she heard the sound indicating a received text message. The warmth enveloped her as the salts moisturized her skin. Claire slipped away to the serenity of sleep.
     
    She recognized the room. With each breath the familiar stagnant air filled her lungs. As her eyes adjusted to the pale light, she saw the dimples on the painted cinderblock walls. Claire wrapped the thin blanket tighter, trying to fend off the chill permeating deep into her soul. It wasn’t from the controlled temperature of the small cell, but from the solitude. When she stared up she saw all four corners of the small room without turning her head. Only the grid of an air vent disturbed the monotony of the dirty white ceiling. Each wall looked the same -- same color, same height and same length. Pulling her from the intolerable seclusion, the buzzer sounded. Tentatively she moved toward the door with the small window. People could only be seen through the small glass opening if they stood directly on the other side. Her heart beat quickened. Could it be a package or a visitor... someone to talk to? Lifting herself to her tip toes she peered through the pane...Her vision filled with his eyes, only his dark penetrating eyes....
     
    Claire woke with a start. Her heart beat rapidly as her quick movement caused tepid water to splash about the tub onto the tile floor. She must have fallen asleep. Her eyes scanned the luxurious tile, plush towels, and dimmed sconces framing the mirror. The view blurred as tears filled her eyes. Did the tears come from her dream or her relief? She momentarily submerged her face under the now cool water. Lifting her face above the water the aroma of jasmine lingered, reinforcing her current location. She inhaled deeply as her muscles relaxed. She wasn’t in prison; she wasn’t alone. It was only a nightmare.
     
    The fog dissipated both from the Palo Alto sky and from the sleeping recesses of her mind. Sunshine facilitated the process, as Claire’s eyes adjusted to the morning light. She remembered the food poisoning of the day before and evaluated her current condition. The only possible ailment she could identify was hunger. Rolling tentatively toward the clock her eyes widened at the number before her: 9:53.
    When Claire checked her phones she found the response from Harry. I’M GLAD YOU’RE HOME. GET SOME REST. WE’LL TALK TOMORROW. It made her both happy and sad. She wanted them to work it out. But she dreaded telling him about her public arrangement with Tony.
    On her other phone she had a text from Courtney. It was received at 9:17 and said: FYI -- TONY IS HERE. HE WANTS TO TALK TO US ABOUT YOU! I SLIPPED AWAY TO TELL YOU. I WILL TEXT WHEN HE’S GONE. Claire closed her eyes and shook her head, poor Courtney and Brent. Caleb’s wedding is in less than a week away and they have Tony on their doorstep. Narcissistic as ever, Claire was sure Tony believed his issues were more important than anything else in their lives. Curiosity grew as Claire contemplated the conversation occurring 2,000 miles away.
    Amber entered the kitchen as Claire finished the final stages of preparing her breakfast feast. She had two fried eggs, two pieces of toast, a banana, and a cup of yogurt. Amber’s voice sounded light as she asked, “Did you forget how to make