For a moment he did not react.
"Claire?"
"Yes." I got to my feet slowly, letting the torn coat fall open. "It's me."
"Claire, what... what is this?" He forced a laugh that came out cracked. "Is this some kind of joke? You look ridiculous."
"Do I?" I asked. "I thought I looked like exactly the kind of person you love to help. Isn't that your brand? The saint who gathers pills off the sidewalk?"
"Claire, what... what is this?"
His eyes darted toward the garage where his friends had disappeared.
"Baby, whatever you think you heard, it isn't—"
"I didn't just hear it," I said. "I felt it. Your hand on my wrist. Your threat. There's no misunderstanding to hide behind now."
Sean took a step toward me, palms open.
The charm switched back on like a light.
"There's no misunderstanding to hide behind now."
"Okay. Okay. I didn't know it was you. A man in my position, people harass me for money constantly, I have to protect myself."
"By threatening to have a starving woman hauled away and blacklisted?"
"That's not what I meant."
"It's exactly what you said."
He ran a hand through his hair.
I watched him calculate, searching for the version of the story that would still get him to the altar.
"It's exactly what you said."
"Claire, I love you," he tried. "You know how much this week has stressed me out. The center, the wedding, I'm not myself. Please."
"The center," I repeated.
The word tasted like acid.
"My best friend warned me you were lying. I called her paranoid. I put on this coat because I couldn't bear to believe her."
The word tasted like acid.
"She's jealous of us," he shot back quickly. "She's always been jealous. She's trying to tear us apart."
"And yet you're the one who told someone I'd sign the check, then you'd be done playing saint."
His mouth opened and closed.
"Who told you that?"
"Does it matter?"
"She's jealous of us,"
"Claire." His voice dropped into a soft register. "Think about what we have. Think about the life we planned. You're going to throw all of that away over one bad moment on a sidewalk?"
I looked at the man I had trusted more than anyone since my parents died.
"You didn't fall in love with me," I said. "You fell in love with a bank account. I was just the door you had to walk through to reach it."
"That's not true."
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