Truth

“I’ll consider the security.”
    Harry nodded, and Claire began to relax. The food provided the much needed subsistence to her weakened body and mind. Without saying it aloud, they’d agreed to table the Tony, security, and housing discussion until later. Soon they fell into a benign chat about superficial monumental events. Apparently the Giants were tied one to one in a three game series with Boston. The next game was tomorrow; Harry wasn’t sure the Giants’ pitcher would be ready...
    They fooled themselves, if they thought their conversation could be avoided the entire evening. After dinner, they moved to the living room. It was hard for Claire to fathom earlier the same day she’d sat in the same room with Tony. Now instead of sitting one on the sofa and the other on the chair, Claire sat nestled into the crook of Harry’s arm. Somehow the embrace didn’t feel sexual, only protective.
    With her head against his shoulder, she pulled from his strength and thought about his patience. In the last hour she’d dropped a few bomb shells, and she had more to drop. Yet, unlike her ex-husband, Harry didn’t demand answers. Instead, he provided space and support. She said she would tell him more; he waited, allowing her the luxury of choosing her time and words.
    With a deep inhale followed by an audible exhale, Claire began. “What do you want to know?” The warmth of his embrace on her shoulder and side, as they both stared into the Palo Alto night, fueled her courage. Before the night was done, she’d share the secrets of her life with Anthony Rawlings. She didn’t know what it would mean for their relationship, or if this was what he’d wanted to talk about. However, she couldn’t imagine being with a man who didn’t know her past, to understand her present.
    When her history became difficult to articulate, he’d rub her shoulder and remain silent. There were times as she spoke about her kidnapping, agreement of duties, glitches, or her accident , she felt his body tense. Never once did he question her choices. It was if he knew she’d questioned herself too many times to count. She’d asked herself: Why did you agree to marry him? Did you really fall in love? Did you think he loved you? Why did you keep up appearances? Asking questions was much easier than answering them.
    Harry continued to listen without judgment. Many times he squeezed her shoulder or kissed the top of her head. Each affirmation fortified her resolve.
    She didn’t spare any aspect of her life with Tony. She also didn’t dwell on details. No secrets remained. Nearing dawn, she told him about the dinner. She explained how Tony arranged for an empty restaurant. Then she told Harry about Tony’s reaction to her knowledge regarding his birth name.
    For the first time, Harry asked for verification, “Are you saying he didn’t send that box of information to you in prison?”
    “ That’s what I’m saying.” She turned her weary eyes to his face. “He was really stunned. That’s why he came here, to find out more about what I know.”
    “ Did you tell him?”
    “ I told him the package held pictures, articles, and a letter. He wanted to see it.”
    Again Harry prompted, “And?”
    “ And I told him I’d burnt it -- he laughed. I could tell he was relieved. But before he left, he told me not to share my information with anyone.” Her eyes widened. “Oh my god!” She jumped from Harry’s embrace to see his eyes, “I told him it was too late.” Her trembling resumed. “That’s why you were almost in that accident. He thinks I’ve shared the information with you and Amber. I need to get a hold of Emily. And...” Claire just remembered, “I dropped the phone I use with her and Courtney. It’s broken. I need to reach them.” Her words came in short increasingly sharp stiletto sentences. “I can’t let anything happen to her or John.”
    Harry held Claire’s hands, restraining the explosive panic that surged through her no longer calm body. His voice was now calm and slow. “Do you possibly think you’re giving him too much credit? That accident was caused by a sixteen year old girl, how could that conceivably be traced back to Mr. Rawlings?”
    Claire shook her head, “I don’t know. What about the sudden computer glitches at SiJo?”
    “ Sometimes shit happens.”
    “ I’ll feel better after I talk to Emily. But, I need another phone.”
    “ I understand the need for another untraceable phone to