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“Honey, why don’t you just take your vacation time and come home for the holidays?” her mother asked hypocritically, she never took a vacation when Clarke was growing up. Now she wanted Clarke to just because she was heartbroken? “If you’re worried about money when you go back, I’ll pay you to work at the farm. It’s short staffed at the moment.”
“Okay, yeah. Getting out of the city would be great. Smell some fresh air and have some of Murphy’s salted caramel hot chocolate.”
“Good. I’ll make sure your room is ready for you. And Clarke?”
“Yes?”
“I miss you.”
“I miss you too. I have to go talk to Diyoza about vacation. I’ll let you know when I’ll be down.”
“Sounds good. I’ll talk to you soon.”
They hung up the phone and Clarke headed over to Diyoza’s office to let her know that she was going home for the month of December. They figured out a way for Clarke to still work for some days and get a little vacation so it was all set. Clarke packed up Thanksgiving weekend and headed north to Arkadia.
She promised she wouldn’t let the bad memories get to her while she was there. Her father passed and she found out that her mother was sleeping with her father’s best friend and right-hand man on the farm pretty much since the funeral… the boy she loved in high school only using her…
Yeah, she’s not going to think about that.
When she did arrive in Arkadia, she had half the thought that it would be like the beginning of a bad Hallmark movie where she crashed her car into a ditch and the tow truck driver that came to rescue her would be said ex-boyfriend. It was only raining and she’d just gotten new tires so she didn’t have to worry.
Driving through town, she did miss how they decorated Main Street with lights and wreaths scattered on the occasional telephone pole. The town Christmas tree was in the process of being restrung of light right in front of the old church. Each shop window had its own theme that was determined back in July at the town meeting. Clarke missed it, but maybe not enough to move back for good, helping at the farm for the season was one thing, but it wouldn’t be enough for her in the long run.
The farm was just out of town, still within the village limits but not enough that they were a part of the sewage and water system. Then again the farm was ahead of its time with a water recycler and a few wind turbines.
The farm looked the exact same from when she was last here after freshman year of college. The white house and matching picket fence for the dog they never had, the red barn that was sparingly used aside from the loft where she spent most of her time freezing while painting and sometimes with him.
Shaking that thought out of her head, she parked her car in the driveway and grabbed her suitcase.
The porch had new railings and the porch swing was repaired, she didn’t know why she thought her mother wouldn’t fix the place up over the years, but that’s what she thought.
She stuck her key in the door and it stuck. She got a new lock too? Clarke sighed and knelt down, lifting the doormat and then the potted plant. Predictable. With the new key, she unlocked the door and headed inside where everything looked the same. Photos of her on the mantle in the living room, her father and mother and a mix of the three of them with Kane. One of Clarke and her prom date… she whipped her head around, not wanting to think about that. Never thinking about that. She’d never say that someone ruined her but if anyone came close…
She stepped through the living room and into the dining room, still looking the same as she left until she stepped into the kitchen. Everything was different, the place fully remodeled. Light gray cabinets, stainless steel appliances and white quartz countertops. The only thing that stayed the same was the farmhouse sink that her mother used to bathe her in when she was a baby.
She opened the fridge to find it stocked with some of Clarke’s favorites, almond milk, egg whites, spinach… the fact that her mother bought produce was something else entirely.
Heading upstairs, all of the doors were closed except for hers. She stepped inside the celestial sky blue walls she now detested. She was hoping that somewhere between helping the farm and working for Diyoza she would have some downtime to get back into painting. She hoped her loft remained untouched.
Leaving her suitcase and laptop bag in her room, she headed out the back door to the barn. Three years ago her mother called letting her know that her horse Patches died, he was twenty-three and worked a long and hard life. He was a good horse, a good listener and friend.
There were two horses in their stalls, a black and white beauty that reminded her a little of Patches and a cool gray beauty who seemed to like ear scratches most. She’d like to get back into riding too.
Heading up the ladder that looked exactly how she left it six years ago, Clarke stopped short at the sight of a sofa in the loft. How did that get there and where did it come from? There was a chest in front of the sofa with books and papers strewn about but she didn’t care about any of them. She flipped the latch up and relaxed at the sight of her easel and paints tucked neatly in the trunk and a few canvases… the few she happened to not ruin graduation night.
She let a tear fall for that night, just one because he wasn’t worth her tears, not anymore. She wiped it away before going to the loft door that would give her a view of the entire farm.
When she was eleven, her father built a greenhouse connected to the barn, right under the loft doors that would grow poinsettia to boost business. They’d spend hours seeding and watering until Clarke found painting more enthralling and the loft became hers. Learning how to paint the growing Douglas, Fraser, and Balsam firs, and blue spruces. The oak trees with mistletoe growing on it.
She pulled her phone out of her jacket pocket while taking a seat on the sofa and texted her mother.
Clarke: Hey, I’m home. Did you forget to tell me you changed the locks?
Surprisingly her mother texted back immediately.
Mom: I’m so sorry, check under the plant, there should be the spare key. Keep it for yourself. Marcus and I will be there around six. We’re bringing food from Murphy’s. Your usual?
Clarke: Sounds good.
She heard the sound of a dog barking before the roar of an ATV and she stood, crossing to the ladder and headed down, making sure that it wasn’t some intruder. Though who she came across was significantly worse in her opinion.
“What the hell are you doing here?” she exclaimed, watching him get off the ATV he’d already shut off.
“Well, it’s good to see you too, Princess. How long has it been exactly?”
“Not long enough and don’t call me that. What are you doing here?”
“I work here. What are you doing here?”
“My mother said the farm needed help this Christmas season, so I came home. Now I’m definitely not staying.”
She stormed past him, heading to the house when his hand grasped her arm stopping her.
“We do need help. It’s just me on the acres and the green house, please stay.”
“Let me go and I’ll think about it.”
A moment later a golden retriever ran in and wagged his tail as he stopped in front of Clarke, sniffing and begging for attention.
“That’s Picasso. Take him inside with you, please.”
Bellamy Blake named his dog Picasso instead of Cerberus, the world must be ending.
He stared at her a moment longer before she tried tugging her arm from his grasp again and he released her and looked away. “If Abby comes before I go in tell her I’m checking the poinsettias.”
“Is that supposed to be code?”
“No, I’m checking the poinsettias.”
“Fine.”
She started heading inside, calling for Picasso to follow when Bellamy called her name. “It’s really good to see you again.”
She ignored him, stomping into the house with Picasso on her tail. She pulled her phone back out and texted her mother again.
Clarke: You didn’t think to warn me that Bellamy Blake runs the farm now? I can’t stay the whole season, I’ll stay through Thanksgiving but I can’t be here with him any longer than that.
Mom: Give him a chance. You loved him in high school.
Clarke: And look at me now! I haven’t been in a relationship any longer than the honeymoon stage because he broke me. I can’t stay here for another month.
Mom: Just give him the weekend, the farm really does need help this season.
Clarke sighed. Fine, she texted back and turned to Picasso who was lying on his bed in the corner of the kitchen that she didn’t see before.
“Has he really changed?” she asked Picasso who’s ears just lifted in acknowledgment of the question. “I’m talking to a dog about his dog of an owner, wonderful.”
Clarke grabbed her laptop and set up at the breakfast nook with Picasso close by and a fresh pot of coffee brewed, she was working with Diyoza on a design for a new book series, the artist wanted the bindings to match, like a ribbon folded across them with the book number or something. The author wasn’t liking any of their ideas, wanting something more original. She looked over the list she’s given to work off of again.
Flora…
She emailed Diyoza. What kind of flora imagery?
She had an idea, she had to get to the local florist first thing tomorrow once she got a response from Diyoza.
“I always pegged you as an artist, not an office worker,” Bellamy said behind her and Clarke shut her laptop.
“I am an artist. I just—I don’t need to explain myself to you. I’ll be out of your hair come Sunday.”
“Leaving so soon?”
Clarke scoffed as she stood and grabbed her laptop from the table. “Like I want to relive the past.”
She tried stepping around him to head up to her room, but he blocked the entire doorway. “Please move.”
“You really didn’t miss me?”
“All you are is a memory long buried and forgotten.”
“If that we’re really true, you wouldn’t care that I’m here and you’d stay acting like what happened between us happened and you moved on. Not desperate to run back to the big city where you can pretend your life is so busy and important that you force yourself to forget how I feel inside you.”
“You really think that’s why I detest your presence? So you really think that highly of yourself that you did no wrong? You put Narcissus to shame.” She pushed past him with her whole body and locked herself in her room until she heard car fires coming up the gravel path to find her mother’s Lexus parking next to hers.
She pulled her cardigan on and headed downstairs, greeting her mother in the hallway. Marcus Kane was behind her carrying the food into the house. “Hi honey,” Abby said, pulling Clarke into a hug.
“Mother.”
“I didn’t think his presence was going to be a problem,” she whispered.
Clarke pulled away. “I was a teenager, I didn’t tell you anything.”
“He hurt you?”
“I’m partly at fault for letting myself fall for him.”
“No, you both should be on the same page walking into something. If not, whoever didn’t make it clear was at fault.”
“Neither of us pushed to talk, that’s what I’m saying, we’re both at fault.”
“You pretend like I don’t know my daughter,” Abby said with a smirk. “I’ll drop it for now because I see that you’re over talking about it and probably hungry, but you should talk about it. If not with me than with someone.”
“Like a professional?”
“Indra’s still in town.”
Clarke laughed. “I don’t think her version of therapy would be conducive in this sense.”
“Probably not.” Abby smiled, pulling her daughter along with her to the kitchen where Marcus and Bellamy were already sitting at the table and discussing the football game from the night before.
Dinner was mostly pleasantries, a little shop-talk about what the farm needed. Kane mentioned getting prepared for the election for mayor in the coming year, hoping to get re-elected. Clarke avoided Bellamy to the best of her ability, which even with the conversation they had in the hall, Abby wasn’t picking up on.
She asked Clarke to do some projects. Repaint the farm sign by the road, work some social media and put an ad out in the town paper. Going to Costco for hot cocoa, marshmallows, and candy canes. Little things that took a lot of time to complete.
The season didn’t start until Friday, she had two days to complete the list but one of those days was Thanksgiving so Clarke really only had one. She figured she could go to Costco first thing in the morning on Wednesday and then work on the ad which shouldn’t take more than a half hour, including sending it in to the newspaper and then spend the rest of the afternoon painting the sign.
She woke up and showered before getting dressed and headed downstairs to get coffee. She found Bellamy leaning against the counter in just pajama pants while sipping on his own cup of coffee as Picasso leisurely ate his breakfast.
“Morning,” he said, sipping on his coffee.
“Could you possibly stay fully dressed during the duration of my stay?”
“I could try but I think I’d find that to be a little difficult in the shower.”
She rolled her eyes, grabbing a mug from the cabinet.
“You used to laugh at my jokes.”
“I used to do a lot of things to boost your fragile ego.”
“Right. Clarke, I—“
“Let’s get one thing straight. I don’t want to hear anything from you unless it’s related to the farm. I will have Thanksgiving with my mother and if you happen to be there then so be it. I don’t want to be here any more than you want me here, but don’t you dare forget that this is my family’s farm.”
“Have you not been paying attention? I board here. I work for the farm and I live on the farm. Your farm. Your mother loves Kane and lives with him in town, which is best for her clients and she is my boss.” He slammed his mug down and pushed off the counter, shaking his head, muttering something in Filipino as he walked out the back door with Picasso on his heels.
Clarke spent the day exactly as planned, she went to Costco and bought everything they’d need for the hot chocolate bar and then designed the ad for the newspaper and drove it over with a check her mother wrote out for her for them. When she came back she heard the ATV in the back field so she grabbed her paints from the loft and headed to the road to fix up the sign.
“I brought you coffee,” she heard just before feeling Picasso press his nose to her knee.
“Thank you,” she said, placing the paint brush down and grabbed the travel mug from Bellamy.
He put his hands in his pockets. “Look, I know you’re mad at me, but Octavia’s family is coming tomorrow, could we be civil for them, please?”
“The sister you never let me meet? Hiding your past indiscretions?”
“It’s nothing like that—“
“Right, because I was just a bet you kept playing with. I’m not that innocent little girl anymore, I tend to bite back.”
“I’ve noticed.” He smirked.
“Thanks for the coffee. I’m sure you have plenty of work that still needs to be done.”
“I do. I’m going to make tacos for dinner.”
“I’m going out.”
Bellamy sighed. “Okay.” His eyes darted down to Picasso who was lying by Clarke’s feet. “If I’m not in the house when you leave, please keep him inside.”
“I will.”
Bellamy took a step towards her and she would have stepped back if it weren’t for Picasso. Her eyes locked with his as he pulled a cloth out of his pocket and wiped it across her cheek, pulling it away with a crimson smear. She had paint on her face the entire time.
She didn’t know why she said she wasn't going to be there for dinner when they both knew that tacos were her favorite, but she did. Was she angry that he was trying to butter her up? Did it even cross his mind or did he really plan on having tacos for dinner? She didn’t have any plans for the night and she now had to make something up.
Once she finished painting both sides of the sign, Clarke showered and changed into a dress she intended to wear to Thanksgiving dinner the next day but going out sounded more appealing than spending the evening with Bellamy or worse, cooped up in her room avoiding him.
“Griffin!” She heard as she got out of her car in the parking lot behind Murphy’s. She should have known that Murphy himself would be standing outside doing God only knew what. It didn’t help that he was the one who told her that everything with Bellamy was all a bet.
“Hey, John.”
“Back for Thanksgiving and you came to see little ol me?”
“Avoiding Blake. A warning about him living in my childhood home would have been great.”
“Ever since he came back from school, he’s been distant with everyone. I’m surprised people see him at the grocery store with how little he seems to want to be around people.”
“And yet he’s always around me…” Clarke grimaced and sure, it wasn’t true, but she wished she had some sort of warning.
“He regrets it, that much I do know. He regrets not telling you the truth earlier, for hurting you.”
“And how do you know that when you haven’t seen him?”
“Because he nearly killed me when he came back for winter break. I told you and he—he really did care about you.”
“How am I supposed to believe that? He didn’t chase after me, he didn’t try to explain anything.”
“You never gave him the chance to. This is the first anyone has seen you since graduation. Yeah, social media is a thing, but you don’t use it, or you just blocked everyone you knew from Arkadia.”
“He knew where I was. I didn’t transfer schools or hide. He didn’t try.”
“You don’t know that. Do you really think he would have laid a hand on me seven months after I told you if something else didn’t happen? Tell me, did you have a boyfriend your first semester?”
Clarke grimaced. Bellamy wouldn’t have gone after her months later… would he? Did he see her with Finn? Did she break his heart like he broke hers? “He was always a hot head.”
“True, but he never hurt someone who didn’t deserve it.”
She wanted to ask but she already knew the answer, she didn’t deserve him hurting her at all their senior year.
Thanksgiving was something. Her mother was pretending that nothing was going on between Clarke and Bellamy, Kane was on his phone working, and Octavia and Lincoln watched Clarke closely like she was a lit fuse and were awaiting the explosion.
After dinner, Clarke took a step outside for some fresh air away from Bellamy. Octavia stepped out after her a few minutes later and sat next to her on the porch swing.
“He did a good job with the swing,” she commented.
“The least he could do considering he broke the original.”
Octavia chuckled. “I don’t doubt that. Could I ask you something?”
“You can ask a second question.”
“Right. Are you—are you the girl he broke in high school?”
“Not the first and I doubt the last, but I was one of them,” Clarke answered, looking out over the sunset.
“Senior year?”
“Yes, I fell for his charms and let him break my heart. If you think for a moment that I’m going to forget how he made me feel, you’re wrong. I loved him, I saw forever with him and all along I was just a bet.”
“He did care about you. He kept talking about this girl he’d fallen in love with, she had blonde hair and blue eyes. I begged to meet you but our mother was mean when she drank and convinced him that he wasn’t worthy of you. He was going to tell you about the bet until she got into his head.”
Clarke whipped her head back around to look at Bellamy’s jade eyed sister. “That’s not an excuse. He shouldn’t have agreed to it or kept it from me for so long. It doesn’t matter anyway, I’m only here through Christmas and then going back to the city.”
“Then he has a month to get you to forgive him.”
“After working all day? My boss still expects me to get my work done while I’m here working the farm. I don’t have time for him to convince me to forgive him.”
“Okay, but he’s still going to try.”
Clarke nodded and looked back haout over the setting sun. They both headed inside after a few minutes of silence since it was freezing outside and they didn’t bring a blanket with them.
After everyone left and it was just Clarke and Bellamy in the kitchen cleaning everything up, she didn’t want to say that she was comfortable around him since she wasn’t going to let her guard down but there wasn’t horrible tension between them.
“Octavia said that you decided to stay.”
“Yeah, well, I realized that you can’t cut down trees while selling them and the poinsettias so I’ll work the barn while you work the chainsaw.”
“Thank you. Last year Kane tried being mayor and working the farm, but he kept having to leave.”
“I still have my real job that I have to focus on too, though I can do that before opening and after closing. Don’t expect me to be cooking dinner.”
He scoffed. “You burned macaroni,” he said fondly and Clarke prickled.
The good memories of them were tainted with the truth, his fingers down her pants and lips on her neck as the macaroni cooked warped her sense of time when they were horny seventeen year olds, chasing release more than food.
“I was distracted,” she stated coldly.
“Please, we had a good day today and that day. It was real for me.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does. You wouldn’t be so angry with me if it didn’t matter. I made a mistake.”
“Yes, you did. You made a mistake every day for seven months. You made a mistake for not telling me that you were only with me because of a damn bet! I was the butt of jokes between you and your friends for months . Whenever it became real to you, you should have immediately told me because everything between us was built on a lie. I’ve been back for three days and you haven’t apologized for any of it so yes, I’m mad.”
“I was hoping you moved past it, believed that we were children and made mistakes and could grow from the experience. I lied to the first woman I ever loved, the first person to show me what unconditional love was and my lie made it conditional… I am sorry, Clarke.”
How could she hate him for acknowledging everything? How could she hold it against him when he was so sincere about learning and growing? She couldn’t. “Thank you. I am still mad, but I appreciate the sincere apology.”
He nodded. “Is there anything I can do to make us okay? To not fight and have this next month run smoothly?”
“I don’t know right now. I just decided to stay so I don’t really know how it’s going to work.”
“Okay, but I just want you to know I’m not going to walk on eggshells around you. I’ve lived here for two years, I shouldn’t have to.”
“I agree. This is my childhood home so I shouldn’t have to either.”
“Okay, so we agree that we won’t avoid each other.”
“It’s not like we could anyway. I’m going to bed. Good night.”
Clarke forgot how exhausting working the farm was during Christmas time. People came to the farm all day on weekends and after work during the week. There were no days off and no privacy.
During the first week, Bellamy came up to the barn to put more gas in the ATV and grabbed a cup of hot chocolate. He smiled at Clarke as she rang up someone’s large purchase of a tree, two wreaths, and six poinsettias when a woman came up to him. She looked too much like Ashley Echo, his ex girlfriend in high school before they’d gotten together. Clarke heard she moved to Los Angeles to become an actress.
“Haven’t seen you at the Trading Post in a while,” she said, twirling her long brown hair around her manicured finger.
“The season started, I’ve been working.”
“Well, when can I see you?”
“Maybe when the season’s over. I have to go.” He looked at Clarke and grabbed a candy cane from the basket. He revved the ATV’s engine and shot off into the rows of trees.
“Hey, Clarke. Cute place,” she said as though Bellamy storming away from her wasn’t a scene.
“Thanks?”
“It’s nice of Bellamy to keep an eye on it for you.” She grabbed a candy cane and Clarke just knew that this really was Ashley Echo in all her vindictive glory.
“He’s not doing me a favor. It’s his job.”
“Yeah, but let’s face it. If it weren’t for you, he’d be a successful man.”
“Get the fuck out of here.”
“I’m not saying anything that isn’t true. Pining after you and working your family farm to keep the legacy… pathetic considering you never come home.”
“Well I’m here now, aren’t I? And I’m telling you to get the fuck off my property before I make you.”
Ashley gave her a once over. “You got the boy, Griffin, but I got the man,” she said with a cocky smile before she stuck the candy cane in her mouth and backed away, down the driveway to her car.
Not that Clarke cared what Bellamy did with his dick, but he went back to Echo after every horrible thing she said about Clarke in high school. Bellamy defended Clarke and then went back to Echo like none of it mattered.
The farm next door was run by a few generations now. Russell senior was old when Clarke was a child and vaguely resemble Santa and now that she’s older and he was still kicking, he was the spitting image. Little did she know that he helped out on the weekends portraying Santa. He rode over on a sleigh of his son’s design, pulled by two horses with antlers on their heads and spent his Saturdays and Sundays asking the kiddos that came for Christmas trees what they wanted.
There was a lull one Saturday in December and Bellamy came up to the barn for a snack, Picasso rubbed against his legs, preferring the warmth of the greenhouse to running around the farm with Bellamy. Clarke had to get some change from the office but froze when she was just within hearing distance.
“So, Bellamy, what do you want for Christmas this year?”
“I’m not a kid, I don’t believe in Santa.”
“Indulge me.”
“It doesn’t matter. She’s just going to leave.”
There was silence for a moment before Russell spoke. “I’ve never seen you like this. I’ve been around and I hear the rumors. You loved her in high school, what happened?”
“I was an asshole and I made a stupid mistake before I even knew her and now it’s too late, she hates me and I can’t even blame her. I hate what I did.”
“This is what I don’t understand about your generation, you don’t talk to each other. Just talk to her and tell her how you feel.”
“I tried that and she told me she’d be civil. I brought up a good memory and she… tainted it. I can’t keep hoping for something to change when we’re on different pages,” Bellamy said and Clarke dropped the change back on the desk in the office before heading up to the loft.
“You disappeared.” His voice was soft and caring and she did wish she could melt into him and forget their past.
“I needed some air.”
He hummed. “It’s freezing up here. Come down, I have a fire going in the house.”
She knew how cold it was, her fingers were numb and the paint was freezing quicker than she could get it on the canvas but her painting was coming along quickly. She felt inspired by the man at the stairs.
“We’re still open…”
“Closed early, it’s freezing rain out there. I have soup on the stove.”
“Russell left?”
“I drove him home.”
“How long have I been up here?”
“A few hours. Come inside and take a hot shower, you must be freezing.”
After heading inside and showering the chill off her bones, Clarke curled up on the couch with a mug of soup that tasted like a distant memory.
“Is this the soup you brought me when I was sick?”
Bellamy stopped stringing the lights on the Christmas tree and looked over his shoulder at her. “Yes.”
“It’s really good.”
“My mother taught me how to make it.”
“I’m sorry you lost her.”
“Thanks. I, um… sometimes I’m glad she’s gone and other times I miss my mom.”
“I know. Octavia told me what your mother did when she found out about us. I’m sorry she was so mean.”
“It was the drugs… or lack thereof, sometimes I didn’t know if she was on them or not, she was mean because of her bipolar and hateful because of her meds. Sometimes I couldn’t tell the difference and sometimes I didn’t want to know.”
“That’s how I felt seeing you again. Mean because I was hurt and hateful because you did it.”
Bellamy nodded. “I can’t keep apologizing.”
“I’m not asking for an apology, I’m trying to explain my actions to apologize.”
“No need. Just eat your soup and let me finish lighting this damn tree.”
“Fine.”
Ten minutes later the tree was all lit up and Bellamy collapsed into the couch. Clarke chuckled, her soup finished and the mug placed on the end table. “That’s why I don’t have a Christmas tree, the decorating and undecorating… it’s a lot.”
“Agreed.” Bellamy grabbed her foot and stretched out her leg, beginning to rub her foot.
“What are you doing?” she asked though it came out as more of a sigh.
“Helping you relax. You never seem to even when you should.”
“Was it weird? Being welcomed into the house after spending six months sneaking in through my bedroom window?”
Bellamy scoffed. “It was at first, I felt like you were going to show up and drag me to your bed telling me it's where I belonged. I spent a lot of time standing at your closed bedroom door.”
“You never went in?”
“I’d already hurt you enough, I wasn’t going to invade your privacy.”
“Good, because my diary from senior year was in there. Wouldn’t want you reading that.”
“Dear Diary,” he mused. “Bellamy kissed me today. Rather I kissed him to shut him up and I don’t know what I expected, but he exceeded.”
“Funny, you were close. I was totally smitten with you at that point. You had the opportunity to ruin me so much sooner than you did.”
“I never wanted that to happen. I tried ending it, told them I cared about you and I wouldn’t hurt you… Murphy went ahead and told you anyway.”
“He was in on it?”
“He was the ringleader, learned everything from McCreery before he graduated. Why do you think I rarely go into town? I avoid them both at all costs.”
“He acted like you were still friends.”
“Of course he does, he still pretends it’s high school and being popular is more important than living a happy life.”
She knew Bellamy… well, she used to and where some things changed, others didn’t and she knew that he was serious about living a happy life. He struggled growing up and knowing that Octavia was okay and happy herself, Clarke knew that he could be happy on his own.
“I want that for you. I’ve always wanted that for you.”
“You have a strange way of showing it.”
“I’m trying.”
“I know.”
“Are you reading tonight?”
“Yes, The Pale-Faced Lie … it’s a memoir.”
“Would you read it out loud? Like you used to.”
“Whispering in the middle of the night so as to not wake your parents… I’m pretty sure if your mother knew about that she wouldn’t have hired me.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure about that, she knew what you did to me and still hired you.”
“Right. Anyway, we still do the Christmas Eve auction and it’s tomorrow if you want to join me.”
“I thought you didn’t go to town.”
“I go to town for certain things, like the auction. I just don’t go to Murphy’s.”
“So you go to the Trading Post instead?”
“I knew you heard us. You can’t be mad at me and jealous at the same time.”
“Of course, I can, but Echo? After everything…”
“We hurt her when we got together. I was with her and then the bet happened and I’d barely broken up with her by the time we got together. If you were in her shoes, you’d be pissed too.”
“That doesn’t mean you should sleep with her!”
“Maybe not, but it’s not like I had better options.”
Clarke walked down the stairs the next evening wearing a maroon off the shoulder sweater dress with thigh high leather boots. She curled her short hair and put some makeup on. It was her first time really seeing people in town since she graduated and she didn’t want to disappoint them with her usual jeans and an old wool sweater her nana made her for working nights on the farm. She was a city girl now and she needed to prove that.
When she got to the kitchen, she watched Bellamy choke on his beer at the sight of her. He was wearing dark jeans and a heavy solid blue flannel, his boots weren’t as dirty as they were when he came in for lunch earlier.
“You look… um, amazing,” he said, wiping the beer from his beard.
“Thank you. You clean up—“ He cut her off, “I’m going to change.”
“You look good,” she said.
“I’m still changing. I can’t walk in looking like this with you looking like that.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does. Now, will you feed Picasso while I change?”
Clarke nodded as Bellamy passed her by and once she heard him stomping up the stairs, she deflated. She shouldn’t want anything, not when she was leaving in two days for her real life in Polis and the job she loved so dearly. She shouldn’t want to stay and sleep in the same bed as Bellamy again and hope and hope and hope…
The only difference was that this time she was breaking her own heart.
She fed Picasso and finished off Bellamy’s beer by the time he came back downstairs wearing a faded green, somewhat wrinkled button down with a deep avocado green cable knit sweater and instead of boots, he had on brown oxfords.
Her heart begged for this to be a date. “You still look good.”
Bellamy rolled his eyes and looked down at Picasso who was watching them from his bed in the breakfast nook. “You have to stay here, buddy. We’ll be back in a few hours.”
Picasso licked his lips and blinked.
“Are you ready?” he asked her and Clarke nodded before following him out the door to his truck.
The drive was only fifteen minutes with staticky Christmas songs playing over the radio but Clarke needed to ask.
“Why did you name him Picasso?”
“You know why.”
“Why do you have to be so difficult? Why can’t you just answer my question honestly?”
“Because it hurts to think about.”
“Then just say so and I would drop it. ‘You know why’ makes people ask more questions and make assumptions.”
“And your assumptions would be correct.”
He pulled the car into the parking lot of town hall and parked behind his sister’s car.
“What do you want, Bellamy?”
“What I can never have. Not anymore.” He got out of the truck so quickly, Clarke didn’t get to unbuckle her seatbelt and follow him in without running across the parking lot and she couldn’t do that with all the ice.
Octavia spotted her first inside and hugged her. “Why is he so crabby?” She asked after the standard polite pleasantries.
“I don’t know, I asked him about Picasso on the drive here and—“
“You. He surrounds himself with you.”
Clarke blinked. “What?”
“He lives in your childhood home and works on your family’s farm. I shouldn’t be telling you any of this, but he hates what he did and chased after you. He missed Thanksgiving his first semester of college because he went to your school instead and you were kissing another boy. Needless to say, he wasn’t very thankful that year.”
“Finn kissed me, I wasn’t very interested considering my heart was still shattered.”
“Once he graduated, never trying to see you again, I don’t exactly know what happened that got him working your farm, but he seemed happy whenever I visited, surrounded by memories of you. Then Abby and Marcus were officially moving into town and he was lonely so I convinced him to get a dog to help him on the farm and…”
“Picasso.”
Why didn’t he stop Finn from kissing her? Why didn’t he tell her the truth again? Why didn’t he reach out at all? He had her phone number and email, Clarke didn’t know how to block people back then so he could have and she would have answered or read his message.
Why did it hurt so much that he never really tried to win her back?
She talked with Octavia a little more about their lives sans Bellamy, they drank some wine and ate a few appetizers before Octavia was pulled away into a conversation with someone Clarke didn’t know.
She grabbed another glass of wine and someone tapped her on the shoulder. She spun to find Nathan Miller, an old friend of Bellamy’s in high school.
“Miller! Hi!” She hugged him and he chuckled, hugging her back.
“So the rumors were true, you’re back.”
“Just for the season, helping on the farm.”
“Still? You didn’t come to see anybody?”
“I didn’t have time, when I wasn’t selling trees, I was working my real job and attempting to get back into painting. I also didn’t want to cause a scene.”
“I heard you put Murphy in his place though. That’s impressive.”
“That little shithead deserved it.”
“I’m not denying that. Would you want to dance? As friends. I’m seeing someone.”
Clarke smiled. “We bat for the same team, I wasn’t thinking you were coming onto me.”
Miller led her out to the small dance floor. “You bat for both teams.”
“True.”
They got into a rhythm to the slow dance and were talking about the last six years of their lives. Miller tried following in his father’s footsteps of the military and hated it but he loved working security and it was how he met his partner, Dr. Eric Jackson, whom Clarke remembered was an intern at her mother’s hospital their senior year. They danced through two songs before being interrupted.
“May I cut in?” Bellamy asked and Miller looked between him and Clarke before stepping back for his friend.
This song was a little quicker than the other two and Clarke could tell that Bellamy felt awkward about moving so quickly while attempting not to step on her feet.
“Have I told you how gorgeous you look tonight?” he asked during the bridge of the song.
“You said amazing before you stormed upstairs to change.”
“Right.” He held her tight so she couldn’t see his face and she knew he was nervous about sharing his truth. She was too. “I meant it, though I probably should have said it when you had pine needles and bow glitter all over you also… all the time if I’m being honest.”
“Bellamy…”
“Please, Clarke, just… I only have you for one more day and my heart breaks waiting for you to just leave me again without any thought. I’m still so in love with you.”
“You came for me during your first semester of college. You saw Finn kiss me.”
“Yes.”
“Did your heart shatter?”
“Irrevocably.”
“What am I supposed to do, Bellamy ? Leave my whole life in Polis and stay? Give up the job I love? The friends who supported me and built me back up after you crushed me?”
“Only if you love me too.”
“I do.” The admittance was a relief. “But I don’t know if I can give up my life.”
“Then I’ll go to Polis. They—they must have jobs in agriculture in the parks department or a plant store. There’s something. Please don’t make me survive without you again.”
Clarke pushed back and looked up at him, her heart beating out of her chest, as she caught sight of something above their heads… mistletoe. “You’re not just going to uproot your life for me. Give me some time to figure something out with work. And maybe kiss me since you danced us under mistletoe.”
“I’m not going to kiss you in front of everyone because we’re under a parasite. When I kiss you, it’s to tell you I love you. Screw everybody else.”
Clarke smiled. “‘Let’s just go,’” she finished the quote half meaning it. She didn’t like being around so many people.
Bellamy dropped his forehead to hers. “We had a lot of fun that night.”
“I lost my virginity that night.”
“Like I said, fun,” he smirked.
“Would you want to reenact it?”
“I have better tricks and moves now.”
Clarke laughed. “Well then, take me home.”
Clarke woke up warm and content. She knew she had a long talk ahead of her with Diyoza about her future with the company and where she could possibly go but that wasn’t the focus. It was Christmas and she spent the night with Bellamy and would be spending the day with him and their families. This Christmas was going to be perfect.
She rolled over to find the other side of the bed empty and Clarke grimaced before smelling bacon and coffee wafting up from the kitchen.
She grabbed her phone off the nightstand and texted Diyoza. Merry Christmas! I have a proposal for you when the holiday is over.
After dropping her phone back on the nightstand, not caring for a reply for the day, Clarke headed downstairs and wrapped her arms around Bellamy from behind.
“Merry Christmas,” he said, gripping his hand around hers.
“Merry Christmas. When’s everyone coming over?”
“Noon.” He turned around in her grasp, looking down at her with a soft smile. “The roast takes about four hours and Lincoln’s demanding to cook so blame all the bad cooking on him.”
“I really like your apple pie.”
“I know, I was going to make it before they got here.”
“Can I help?”
“Really?”
“Yes, really. I like baking.”
“Okay, why don’t you let me cook you some breakfast and then while I work on the pie crust, you can peel the apples.”
“Are we waiting for everyone to arrive before we open presents?”
“Yes.”
Clarke leaned up and kissed him, her heart pounding with anticipation for an idea for a gift for him. “Okay. I have one more present to wrap so while you cook breakfast, I’ll do that and be back down.”
Bellamy nodded and kissed her sweetly before pulling away. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” She grabbed her coffee mug and headed up to her childhood bedroom and pulled out her journal from senior year along with post it tabs to notate.
September 17, 2015
You know where you dream of something happening for so long that when it happens you think it’s a dream but it went so terribly that you knew it was real? Finally speaking to Bellamy Blake felt like that. Maybe dreaming was the wrong word, I haven’t dreamt about it, but I always wondered what a conversation with him would be like because he is smart , he just doesn’t like people knowing. Sometimes being the dumb jock is easier, not that I would know.
I guess I should have expected an argument, I’m Clarke Griffin after all, slightly prickly though sweet and tangy once you get to know me and I can trust you. He’s the same though more honey badger than prickly pear…
Anyway, he has freckles. I didn’t know that.
October 2, 2015
He kissed me. I’m drunk and delirious but I’m certain that Bellamy Blake kissed me. He might not be so bad.
October 5, 2015
I was wrong, Bellamy’s such an asshat! He’s still with Echo. Or Ashley. I don’t know her name but she screamed in my face at my locker that I’m a man stealing whore and will never be happy.
If my drunk memories serve me correctly, Bellamy kissed me and if I knew he had a girlfriend, I never would have allowed him to. I have morals and not being a man stealing whore is one of them.
October 31, 2015
Kissing Bellamy Blake is the best thing in the world. Murphy’s Halloween party last night and everything about today with him…
I didn’t know that there was a secret hot spring behind the school. Bellamy did a pH balance test in front of me to prove the water was fine before he stripped me to my bra and underwear and we spent the day talking and kissing. Not once did he push me for more.
November 25, 2015
Am I crazy? Falling in love with Bellamy when we’ve been together for barely three weeks? I’m not going to tell him but I want to show him somehow. I’m still not ready for sex or for him to meet my parents. I hate not touching him when we’re apart though.
November 27, 2015
Bellamy’s mother hates me. I don’t know why but he came through my window last night after Thanksgiving dinner and he was rambling on and on about how she hated how no woman could make her miserable son happy and that he should never bring me around because it would push me away. I don’t know what he meant by that, I’ve never seen him without a smile on his face.
He fell asleep crying in my arms, I wish I could do more for him somehow. I wish I could show him that his mother was wrong, that he’s amazing and talented and that the world needed more beautiful minds like his to make it a better place. He has such an open and kind heart, it’s no wonder why everyone loves him. Why I love him.
December 4, 2015
Dad loves Bellamy. He said he noticed my smile since October and now that Bellamy’s helping out with the Christmas tree sales portion of the farm, Dad is ecstatic to get to know my boyfriend. I don’t know why he’s so happy about it, though he’s now insisting Bellamy spends dinner with us every time he’s working.
December 18, 2015
Bellamy climbs through my window more often than not now. He’s not concerned about getting caught at all, unlike me. He says he sleeps better curled up with me, whether he’s big spoon or little spoon, his soul settles and sleeps deeper. He’s such a light sleeper though and he mumbles to himself.
Sometimes I stay up and just watch him because I’ve never seen his face so relaxed and serene. I think he’s more calculating with his expressions than he initially comes across.
January 1, 2016
He said he loves me.
I didn’t say it back.
I froze.
He loves me.
January 4, 2016
I told him I loved him too. I waited at his locker and told him. I couldn’t not, he looked so devastated when he saw me standing there, I had to tell him the truth. His smile was so bright, it could have challenged the sun. Then he asked me to the Winter Formal.
January 16, 2016
Last night was perfect. Bellamy is perfect. I know we have to talk about the future and college plans, but for right now, everything is perfect. Maybe I’m naïve with my first love believing that this could be forever, that marrying him after college and having 2.5 babies, a Labrador retriever, and a white picket fence are in the cards for us.
January 17, 2016
Dad’s sick. It’s his lungs and it's untreatable. They put him on the transplant list giving him six months if he’s lucky. Bellamy stayed with us the whole day in the hospital, he went and got us food and held me as we waited for his test results.
I feel so selfish. I’ve been spending so much time with Bellamy, neglecting my family. If I spent more time at home, I could have noticed, I could have said something and Dad wouldn’t be so sick, they could have given him some treatment that would help him and not just sit around and wait.
February 14, 2016
Dad wants me to go on a date with Bellamy tonight, get my mind off him and his illness. No word about a lung transplant yet and his breathing has gotten worse.
Bellamy spends most of his afternoons with us, Dad’s hospital bed now set up in the dining room and the couch and chairs from the living room had slowly moved closer to his bed.
The Waiting Game. I hate it.
We stayed home. Bellamy bought an outdoor heater and flowers, a ton of blankets from the linen closet and take-out from the diner. We sat on the porch swing curled together, watching the sunset before the clouds rolled in and snow began to fall.
He told me he loved me and that he knew everything was a lot right now and I just cried. I wish I could be the girlfriend he deserved. The girlfriend I wanted to be when we got together.
It’s only going to get worse from here, deciding colleges, whatever happens with Dad’s disease. I thought maybe we could work out all of it when it was just college and distance, now it’s more with possible mourning added on top of it all. I couldn’t put all that pressure on him, no matter how much I love him and want forever with him.
He refused to leave me, he refused to let me cause us both more pain than necessary right now. He loved me too much to allow myself to cause me more pain by leaving him with no good reason.
There were countless more journal entries about how wonderful Bellamy was during their relationship, how open they were about college and staying together. Then, in June, how terribly he’d hurt her when she found out about the bet. Entries about hating him and never seeing him again. And her dad died before graduation, how Bellamy let her pound on his chest full of rage at the world for taking her father and lover away in what felt like one blow
She was sticking another post it tab when there was a knock on the door and Bellamy walked in before she could protest against it. “What are you… is that what I think it is?”
“You ruined your gift.”
Bellamy sighed, sitting on the floor opposite her. “I’m not reading your journal. I wouldn’t read it if you’d died because those are your private thoughts and feelings. I deserved everything you wrote about me in the end.”
“You deserved everything I wrote about you before even more. Please, just read a few of the ones I marked, the notable ones.”
“Are you sure? I know how it all ends…”
“I shouldn't have been so blind. You were there for my father’s funeral, you let me pound on your chest for so long , I—I should have seen that you really loved me, I was just so angry.”
“I know. You needed someone to be angry with or you would have blamed yourself for his death. Don’t be mad, but I found him unconscious in the barn while working and he made me promise not to tell you. He knew something was wrong long before he was diagnosed.”
“You should have told me.”
“I know. That’s why I’m telling you now. Full transparency. I have no secrets from you that would hurt you, I promise.”
She leaned across her high school journal and kissed him. “You have other secrets?”
“Stupid things that will eventually wind up in conversation. Not actual secrets but added personality quirks or spring break sophomore year… not secrets but stories and experiences.”
“Okay. You know I still have to go back to Polis tomorrow, right?”
He nodded. “I do. If I didn’t have so much work to do here, I’d come with you and meet your friends who hate me.”
She laughed. “They are going to forgive you instantly. Everyone always forgives you, take me for example.”
“It took me a month to wear you down.”
“I still had feelings for you, which shortened that timeline exponentially.”
“ Had feelings?”
“Have. I love you. Present tense.”
Bellamy leaned over and kissed her softly. “Please tell me you’re interested in being a farmer’s wife.”
“Mr. Blake, you’re moving awfully swiftly.”
“I have six years to make up for. I’m not wasting any time.” His fingers threaded in her hair as he pulled her into another kiss. She really couldn’t believe she let other people kiss her when she could have felt like this the last six years, the electricity flowing between them… it was otherworldly.
Clarke was getting some air after dinner and Octavia came out and joined her.
“You and Bell…”
“I don’t know how we’re going to do it. I have to go back to Polis tomorrow and his whole life is here, my father’s legacy… I’m going to try my hardest though.”
“He asked your mother if he could marry you when you first came out here.”
Clarke rolled her eyes. “Old fashioned and yet, so Bellamy. He wants to make up for lost time.”
“Sounds like him. Did you tell him that there’s no such thing, you just have to roll with the punches?”
“Try telling that to him when he gives you sad eyes. They’re brutal.”
“I have been on the receiving end of them a time or two. You’re really going to try from five hours away?”
“I have never felt like this with another partner. He understands me and he knows me unlike anyone else. I think it’s always been him and I was using my anger as a crutch for my fear of truly getting hurt if something happens to him like my dad.”
Octavia nodded. “Okay, I’m glad you’re figuring it all out, this is the happiest I’ve seen him since you guys broke up.”
The door opened and Bellamy stepped outside. “Are you two good? Can you come in please? It’s freezing.”
Clarke looked at Octavia who just rolled her eyes and stood and she did the same. Octavia stepped around her brother and into the house whereas Clarke stopped right in front of him. “You asked my mother if you could marry me.”
“My sister sucks.” His eyes were fond paired with the annoyed words.
“Can we figure everything out first?”
“Of course. Though I don’t know if I can spend more than a day away from you.”
“Bellamy, I have to go back if not to get approval to work from home but to quit and pack up my apartment. I’ll figure it out.”
“I told you I’m willing to come to you.”
“I know, but this farm is my legacy and you’re my partner, I’d rather be here.”
Bellamy nodded, pressing a kiss to her forehead as he wrapped his arms around her. “We’ll figure it out.”
“Together.”