Clara awoke sprawled face-first on her berth with Poppet draped halfway across her back. As she rolled over she saw both Abby and Ivy were gone, probably to breakfast. She wasn't hungry as she remembered the night before; they danced until she felt her feet would fall off. Her dress hung beside her bed with a note fastened to it in Ivy's fancy handwriting.

Clara, we're at breakfast, we tried to wake you. I took the liberty of hanging up your dress so you wouldn't soil it.

Standing, she noticed her ankles felt terrible from the wild dancing she did the night before. What would this day, Saturday, April 13, 1912 bring? With a grimace, she washed up before she slipped into a black wool dress that had half sleeves. Glancing with disgust at the shoes, Clara slipped them on and flinched at every step. She didn't want to go back to Augusta's room but she needed her boots. If she was lucky, Nate would be eating breakfast or luncheon with his family.

Clara skipped breakfast; instead she went to B-deck and strode to the rail where she stood watching the ocean. The funnels still spewed thick, black smoke, waves pounded against the ship and she closed her eyes listening. She wanted to see what things looked like from the bow of the ship and nothing in the "rules" said she couldn't. She took the long way around until she was climbing more steps. Making her way to the front of the ship she grabbed on the rail and leaned over.

Wind created from the speed of the ship whipped past her and she felt a little better about the whole thing. Careful not to trip she sunk to her knees and held out her hand letting the current of air lash it around. Chuckling, Clara closed her eyes again and listened to the sound of the waves combined with the wind. Finally she stood and made her way across the deck, as she did so she saw Mr. Andrews.

"Good mornin' Clara, slightly chilly out here isn't it?" Mr. Andrews said as Clara stepped onto the rail next to him.

"It is and may I ask how you are fairing today Mr. Andrews?"

"Quite well, they're speaking of lighting the last couple boilers so we may just reach New York by Tuesday."

"Actually, Mr. Andrews, I am in no hurry to reach New York. It is probably my last trip across the Atlantic and I am rather enjoying it."

"Can I treat you to anything?"

Clara took his hand and shook her head with a slight laugh.

"No, I am quite set as long as I may stand here a little longer to enjoy the scenery. Good day to you, Mr. Andrews."

"The same to you young Clara." Mr. Andrews gave a bow before he left leaving Clara to herself. She supposed it was time to change into the sapphire dress to go fetch her boots before Augusta threw them out.

*

Nate walked with Miss Andrea Bowman, a well-to-do woman who expressed great interest in him. As they strode along the deck talking of the typical fashion of the year, Nate thought he saw Clara. She stood speaking with Mr. Andrews and looked to be enjoying herself. She was probably very happy after such an exhilarating night dancing with Mr. Edward Williams. He wasn't half as fine as Nate expected him to be, but then again she didn't seem attracted to good-looking men.

"Andrea, do you find me appealing?" Nate suddenly asked as he tried to peel his eyes away from Clara.

"Nathaniel West, if I didn't find you charming I wouldn't be walking with you. Goodness look at that girl, she must be one of those poor steerage people. I was told they have what would be considered second-class accommodations on other ships." Andrea smiled unsympathetically and gave Clara the twice over.

"Actually they're wonderful people, Andrea."

The woman turned to Nate and laughed so loudly Clara turned around then quickly wished she hadn't. Oh yes, her plan had worked, Nate looked as though he was over her. She didn't feel half as happy as she should have. When he glanced at her Nate felt terrible. He didn't care for Andrea, she got on his every, last nerve and he partially hoped to find Clara. It didn't have the effect he wanted and he felt like a monster as he fought back the urge to run to Clara.

*

Clara held her head high as she had done many times when the woman of the other classes stared at her. She'd learned long ago from experience that losing her temper towards them only gave them a show. Nate didn't seem to recognize her. She shook her head telling herself life without Nate would be easier. The woman gave an impolite swish of her gloved hand as though dismissing Clara.

"I have every right to be here." Clara muttered however she made her way towards the third-class entrance. At least any doubts she was having about Nate were firmly banished, she saw what kind of women he liked.

"You look terrible Clara." Ivy said when Clara strolled into their berth; she didn't feel like doing much of anything.

"Thank you for hanging up my dress, I suppose I should return it today."

"Clara, if you like him then go claim him. Don't let him get away." Ivy stated wisely as she folded her berth for more room.

"Ivy, it's no use, he's already found another woman to occupy his time. She's much more of a lady then I shall ever be. Now tell me, where will I find Edward?"

Ivy immediately stopped folding the bed and marched over to Clara, took her by the arm and pulled her to her feet.

"Now you listen here, Miss Clara. I'm not going to let the spunk drain out of you because you let your handsome, young man go. You shall change into that dress immediately to march up there and fend for him." Ivy's blackish-green eyes sparked with anger as she whipped the dress at Clara.

"Ivy, you don't understand Nate at all! He's wealthy; he's all set to inherit the company when he returns to America. His family would disown him if he decided to go with the likes of me and Nate would never last on the streets." Clara stared at the dress in her hands and sighed.

"If he loves you, he won't care if his family disowns him. By the sounds of it he doesn't like his family." Ivy smiled secretly and Clara squinted at her friend.

"Speaking of families, Ivy, why did you tell him about mine? What I told you, I told you thinking you would keep it private, not go blabbing it to some first-class boy."

Ivy came within inches of Clara and stood toe-to-toe to her with her eyebrows furrowed and her tone low.

"He asked, Clara, he's practically smitten with you. I know it seems impossible to you, you've only ever had a dog's companionship. Poppet is a real good dog, don't get me wrong Clara, but he won't last as long as a man like Nate."

"Really, I seem to think differently, Ivy. Poppet has always been around when I needed him, especially when we were in Egypt. I ran into some tough people while I was there along but Poppet kept them away from me." It was then Clara realized her dog wasn't in the room.

"Don't worry, Abby has him, he's a keen to us now since you've spent the whole time aboard this ship with Nate." Ivy snapped and Clara wanted nothing more than to cry and scream but she remained silent.

"I have not spent 'the whole time' with Nate, only one day besides, what does that matter? I can't even have one little fantasy before I am forced to marry and settle down, like you would know!" Clara lost her calm and began yelling the words, one right after the other.

"I do know, Clara, that's why I want you to pursue Nate because I know what you will be like if you don't. Don't think this is a simple shipboard flirtation, I know about those too. He's exactly what you need and you're precisely what he needs. It's a balanced scale and that doesn't happen often." Ivy motioned for Clara to turn around and Clara did.

"I feel dreadful for screeching at you, Ivy. I am not thinking clearly." Clara whispered as Ivy slipped off the wool dress.

"Of course you aren't thinking plainly, Clara, it's because you're confused about how you feel. You're so damn stubborn, child, you won't admit to something that's dancing around under your nose." Ivy held the dress while Clara slipped into it.

"What is your history, Ivy?"

"Nothing that would interest you, Clara. Nothing that's even remotely worth telling, take my word for it. There, its work getting you into this thing but you look halfway passable, let me comb your hair." Ivy set to work on Clara's tangled mat of hair while she silently brooded.

*

Nate sat with Andrea in the dining saloon thinking about the look on Clara's face when she saw him with Andrea. The woman drove him to the brink of insanity; Andrea did, with her endless chatter about useless things. At least when Clara said something it made mild sense, as though she'd already experienced it. When Andrea turned to him, Nate didn't notice, he was busy thinking.

"Nathaniel, do you suppose I should go to the Turkish bath, I hear it is wonderful for nerves and things of the like."

Nate had, had enough; he took one look at her and sighed, his mother pleaded with her eyes for him to stay silent.

"Why don't you go, encounter something on your own accord rather than sit around and hear about it?" Nate snapped. Andrea looked as though he'd slapped her and Nate almost wished he could.

"Nathaniel, apologize to Miss Bowman immediately!" Emily didn't want the only woman Nate brought to their table - Clara didn't count in her opinion - to leave.

"I shan't mother, I'm tired of you treating me as though I am a young woman who knows nothing."

Andrea had her own weapons up her long sleeved, French-style dress and she was about to drag them out.

"It is quite all right, Mrs. West; I understand that Nate has a fascination for people in steerage. I refused to believe this, I even held a small hope I might be able to turn his head but I haven't."

Now Nate's father looked amused, slightly concerned however he leaned forward and stared into his son's eyes. Nate didn't mean to, but as Andrea spoke he found himself sitting straighter.

"What is this about, Nathaniel?"

"Please tell me, my darling, you haven't been down partaking with the steerage people, have you?" Emily looked like she wanted to strangle Nate with her mother-of-pearl necklaces.

"Oh yes, Mrs. West, it is true for that young woman Nate brought with him last night was third-class. I dined in the same restaurant with some of my traveling companions and noted her odd reactions. She had Augusta Lowell order for her and looked at the food as though it was foreign! I later found out through Jordan Henry that she returned to third-class before the meal even finished."

Now both the elder West's were so involved in the conversation Nate felt more than hot under the collar. Frederick found himself half amused with his son; the young lady hadn't seemed too dreadful. Nate quickly sent a begging glance in his father's direction. Frederick ignored him.

"And, the interesting part is, Nate trailed her into their general room only to find she was in the arms of another man! I don't see what he finds so attractive in her anyways, since she's obviously poor, unattractive and a rogue."

Nate wouldn't hear any of it as he jumped to his feet and grabbed Andrea by her thin, pale shoulders.

"I won't have you talking about Clara like that! Suppose she is poor, suppose she doesn't have your hideous looks and suppose she does have another man, but suppose the following, Andrea. She's been to more places then you shall ever dream of, she's got a brain in her head, that's something I'm positive of. Most of all, you know what I love about Clara, she's free to do whatever she wishes with not one person breathing down her back." Nate paused and noticed his blows were more than hitting home. Andrea was about in tears. "You're nothing more than a cow, made to do as the farmer wishes until your money runs out." With that as his final note, Nate threw his napkin at Andrea and stormed out of the room while many people watched.

*

Clara tried to forget about the task ahead of her as she strode along the well deck wondering about Tuesday. If they truly made it to New York by then that was good enough for her. Once there she never expected to see the West's again, all the better because she didn't need to lose her concentration. Edward stood, peering over the rail as though he had nothing better to do.

"Hey." Clara said as she came to a stop next to him.

"I've heard that you be on your way to re-claim that fellow you were with yesterday, eh?" Edward sounded as though she kicked him in the gut; he looked no better than if she had.

"I didn't mean to make a fool out of both of us, or lead you on. It was selfish of me, I'm sorry."

"Clara, you are selfish but that's how a lot of us have learned how to survive! The less people we have to worry about the better it is for us, so don't apologize." Edward cast a sideways glance at her before he smiled, if only a little one.

"Well, I imagine you're somewhat right, but I still feel horrible for playing with your feelings. I hope you'll find a pretty lass with bright red hair who likes to laugh and not look so glum."

Edward laughed and slapped his hand against the rail.

"I already have, Clara, I already have. Now go, and may you have the best of luck with this fellow." Edward patted her on the back and she felt grateful that he wasn't angry with her.

She took the steps two at a time when no one was watching until she reached C-deck where she paused. Trying to remember the number of Augusta's cabin, Clara finally sighed in frustration. She bit her lip and tried picturing the night before when she was walking with Nate down the corridor.

"Lost?"

She turned slowly when she heard Clay's voice until she finally faced him; he grinned and pointed to the door on Clara's left.

"It's that one. Augusta said she expected you to return, said you left your boots." Clay stuck a key into the lock and turned it until it clicked, the door swung inward.

"Thank you, Clay. I realized this morning that I didn't have them." Clara said as she rushed into the room and searched for her boots.

"Clara listen, Nate, well Nate really cares for you. He said so when he returned from seeing you last night."

"He obviously doesn't care too much now does he, Clay? He was walking hand in hand with a woman who looked at me as though I'm nauseating. It reminded me of my position." She finally found her boots stuffed halfway under the bed and she quickly grabbed them.

"Clara, go find Nate. I'll have the boots delivered to your berth; I assure you they shall reach it in one piece." Clay gently pried the boots out of her hands and she smiled hesitantly.

"But what about that woman he was with?"

"She cares no more for him then he does for her though I heard a rumor that she found out about you. She told his parents. He's already decided he will leave his parent's business and branch out on his own; with or without you."

She tried not to let the happiness show as she twirled around and stared at Clay with surprise.

"Is this true? Wouldn't his family disown him if he decided to go with me?"

Clay laughed loudly and patted her on the shoulder before he could finally speak.

"Clara, Nate will become renounced whether he chooses you or a life on his own with no chance of ever going back. He slightly hopes you will make the experience a little more bearable by going with him." Clay nodded his head towards the door and Clara slowly walked out.

"Where will I be able to find him?"

"You crazy young woman, he's waiting by the well deck rail hoping to catch a glimpse of you. I'll tell Augusta you stopped by, she wants you to take this golden dress. It doesn't fit her anymore. I'll put it in Nate's suite, you may pick it up there, and Clara...good luck with him."

*

Nate stood leaning against the rail watching the steerage people playing with one another and laughing. He hadn't seen a sign of Clara since he decided to tell off Andrea and his parents. It was true, when he reached New York a new, terrifying life faced him but it was one he looked forward to. Nate had hoped that Clara might spot him or at least one of her friends would find him and tell her.

When she did emerge he planned on telling her how his parent's practically rejected him at luncheon. His father stated plainly, "Nate, after this voyage you shall be allowed home to collect some of your possessions. After that small time period we don't expect to ever see or hear from you again." He fought back panic as he heard his father publicly renounce him, more than one person had watched.

"I've never seen you so quiet, it is as though you have much to think about."

He didn't dare turn around for fear that she wasn't standing behind him, when he did Clara smiled.

"I heard about your misfortune with your family and I have to say, you know nothing of what you're getting into."

She gently sidled up to the rail and grasped it. She enjoyed the fresh, but ever cooling feel of the sea air.

"Clara, I want to be my own person and do what I wish when I wish and if you can't accept that, leave." Nate winced. He didn't mean for it to sound as harsh as it did; however, she didn't budge.

"I'm simply saying, Nate. You've lived your whole life in luxury and never had to spend one winter on the streets..." Clara let her sentence die as a dark look crept into Nate's face and she knew she said something wrong.

"Why do you care so much about my fortune, Clara? Did you think that perhaps you might gain some if you stayed with me? I am not a woman, I am a man and I shall act like a man no matter what." He began walking away from her, his back stiff, his hands clenched at his sides.

"I'm not concerned about your fortune, Nate. I'm worried about you as a person and the trials that await you. I am upset about all of this because," Clara forced herself to breathe. She knew it would sound foolish. "I am upset about all of this because I love you."

Nate laughed coldly and whirled around until he stood a mere inch away from her nose.

"What do you know about love, Clara? We just met two days ago, it's impossible for people to fall in love in two days."

Clara couldn't believe the nerve he had to tell her how she was supposed to feel and she bristled.

"I know nothing more about love then you do, Nathaniel Hollister West. I've gone and confessed myself and you make fun of me!" Clara placed a hand in the center of his strong chest and shoved so hard he stumbled backwards. He stood in shock for a moment before he righted himself.

"I am not poking fun at you, Clara. It just seems so impractical that two people who bicker as much as we can love each other."

"Things only get complicated when we make them that way, Nate. Don't you remember saying that to me?" Clara lowered her voice to a whisper. It was so low he scarcely heard it. He remembered feeling like a rude idiot the previous night when he parted from her.

"What about Edward Williams?" He spat the name out and Clara smiled.

"We never had feelings towards one another. He's got another girl."

"Then what about last night when I saw you kissing him in the general room?" Nate could narrowly allow himself to hope, pray, that Clara was telling the truth.

"I did it to make you leave, to make sure you never wanted to see me again and I felt dreadful about it. May I ask what happened to that woman who seemed so protective of you?" She bit her lip hoping he was pushing her away because of some other reason, the way that woman looked at her...

"She served the same purpose as Mr. Edward Williams. Andrea did a little more though. When she saw I didn't care for her, not even a centimeter, she opened her mouth and told on you. Mother about turned her back on me then, it was father who prolonged the announcement." Nate couldn't stand it a moment longer. He knew if he let her go he'd never see her again.

Clara didn't know what to say, she was about to open her mouth when Nate threw his arms around her. His mouth found hers in a somewhat passionate kiss, his breath mingled with hers. She'd never kissed anyone before and as he pressed his lips against hers, she did the same. He tasted so sweet it seemed like a sin to be kissing him in the midst of his people.

Nate broke off the kiss and smiled like a young boy who knew he did something wrong and she laughed. He felt warm inside as though he finally found somewhere that felt like home. Taking her hand firmly into his, Nate led her across the deck and both remained silent for a few moments.

"That wasn't a very satisfactory kiss, Miss Clara Forsyth!" He winked and whirled her to him again. They stared at one another for a moment longer before she lightly kissed him, she smelled like smoke and laughter.

Clara never knew just how astonishing the feeling of being safe in someone's arms felt and she enjoyed it. Snuggling closer to Nate she allowed him to hold her, the cold air nipped at them but she didn't care. Ivy was right. She knew she was supposed to be with Nate, it was meant to be. He nuzzled her ear as he pulled her as tight to him as he could and simply held her.

"So many things have changed in the past few days, this hardly feels real." Nate murmured into her hair and she smiled.

"I know and I am so terrified that what we feel is unreal, that the moment we dock in New York you will leave."

"Clara I've gone through this much trouble trying to keep you near. I feel very strongly about you. If you left me in New York I wouldn't stop until I found you and when I did I would never lose sight of you."

Clara gently pulled away from him but he held tight to her hand, he was serious about her. Deep inside he knew the moment he saw her standing on the well deck watching them board...she was a magnet drawing him in. It was her freedom that called to him, her aggressive spirit that always tried to be bold. As she twirled around to stare at him, her gray eyes lighter, happier, he felt a shiver run down his spine. He loved her, for some reason he knew he always would no matter what.

"Clara, have you eaten luncheon yet?" He asked with a crooked, silly smile and she shook her head.

"I haven't had breakfast or lunch and I am very hungry!" She winked before she finally relaxed; she had to learn how to quit fighting him.

"Then we shall go to the Verandah Café and grab, oh, what will serve your hunger?" Nate asked as he grasped her hand a little tighter.

"If they have some good corned beef I won't care what else they place in front of my nose." Clara chuckled then followed Nate into the A-deck corridor where it felt somewhat warmer.

As they strode down the well-lit corridor she thought she heard some elderly women tittering about icebergs. Perhaps it was simply nervous chatter, the air was cold, the water was dark and foreboding and it was a ship after all. Rumors were more likely to get spread while aboard a ship in the middle of the ocean with nothing much to do.

Nate relished the warmth of Clara's hand as he held it tightly and led them towards the Verandah Café also known as the Palm Court. He opened the doors like a gentleman, allowing her to enter first. Her reaction satisfied him as she stared at the trellised walls and the ivy that climbed them. The chairs were wicker, pillowed with red and brown fabric, palm trees adorned the corners.

"Nate, this is pretty, the light really catches on the white!" Clara said as they found a place to sit. She chose a table near the seven foot tall windows that had bronze lining, she loved the sunlight.

"Ah yes, and what will you be having to eat, Miss Clara Forsyth?" Nate winked as he picked up a menu, she did the same.

"I've never tried grilled mutton chops, or mutton chops in general for that matter." Clara whispered with a playful smile.

"They by all means order them and try the delicacy of mutton!"

"What is mutton?" Clara asked she felt foolish but half the things on the menu she had no idea what they were.

"Lamb, it's supposed to be some of the finest lamb ever tasted. You've never had lamb, have you?"

Clara broke into soft peals of laughter before she finally replied. "I've eaten camel while in Egypt, never lamb though."

Several women nearby overheard her and cast her disapproving frowns while Nate burst into chuckles.

"Clara you are an odd specimen, no doubt there but I love you for it. Now, if we can just flag down a waiter...ah here he comes!"

The waiter took their order, Nate ordered Fine Old Tawny port for them, he also decided he wanted fillets of brill. While they waited for their food he was anxious for Clara to continue with her stories.

"So what was Egypt like, I'm very curious about the sands, the camels...the people." Nate waited while the waiter filled their glasses and he took a long, slow sip.

"It's not as glorious as it sounds, it's rather hot and you find yourself sweating for a greater part of the day." Clara's eyebrows shot up as she tasted the port, she hadn't had much experience with that kind of thing.

"Is it a little strong? So the heat is bothersome, how about the people?"

"Oh they're like the rest of us, battling for a living, doing what they can to survive. It's nothing new. Now quit asking me about everything I've done, we've talked about each other."

"Then let us talk about us, the future, what we will do when we finally reach New York." Nate drummed his fingers on the table, which upset the nearby women again.

"Say, this is quite fun isn't it?" Nate whispered and Clara gave him a quizzical stare. She didn't need him going stark raving drunk again, who knows what he'd do.

"Nate, you aren't drunk again, are you?" She asked as she took another long swallow of the port, it wasn't affecting her.

"No, and I mean it when I say no, it's just the excitement of being free from all this once the ship docks."

"We've been over it, Nate, it's no picnic out there but if you insist on trying it then you may come with me. My father, if he's still living, can teach you the pottery trade. I already know how. If, and I hope to heaven he isn't, my father has died the store will be entrusted to my care. With the store we will at least have a roof over our heads and income to help us with food."

Nate started to speak but at that moment the food arrived and the smell made him want to drool. He left luncheon with his parents early due to the recent renunciation of his status. He watched Clara with curious interest as she delicately sliced the mutton and placed a piece in her mouth.

"I can't argue it's quite good though I don't like to think of a poor lamb dying so I might eat." Clara took a sip of her drink to wash the juicy, flavorful piece of lamb down her throat.

"My fish is quite good as well, and on the subject of living in New York, where have you lived in the past?"

A slow smile crept across her darkened lips. Clara knew she would amuse him with the next bit of information.

"We were once second-class people enjoying a life of mild luxuries before Uncle Forsyth died. He was a millionaire, however he failed to mention my father in his will and the money went to his son. Father asked my nephew, Hubert, for a little bit to keep us cared for until he established a job. Hubert didn't like that idea." Clara paused to eat another slice of mutton. "He said we were well off enough to still stay dry, he did buy the building in which our store is located. From there we fell into the status that you see me in now."

"I'd have wanted to punch him. He was obviously very selfish in the whole matter."

Clara smiled sadly as though she thought the same thing but didn't want to voice it Nate gently touched her hand.

"What will your father think of me?"

She perked up a little at the mention of her father. She shouldn't have mentioned Hubert, just the sound of his name made her angry. The pain her father went through trying to keep the family together was almost more then he could bear. Clara stared with affection at Nate for a moment before she speared a piece of the mutton.

"I think he'll look at you with a questioning eye, study your hands and put you to work until he feels you are worthy." Clara chuckled as she offered the meat to Nate who gingerly nipped it off her fork.

"Put me to work? Heavens, Clara, after twenty years of not working I shall gladly accept whatever he wants me to do. And to get out of these dress clothes, I look forward to New York, a new life, with you."

Nate leaned back and took the napkin off his lap. Clara looked so young in Augusta's dress. Yes, she'd be a greater beauty in the clothes of the rich, yet she'd lose the luster that drew him to her. He'd still love her whether she was rich or poor and he dearly hoped she knew that.

"Nathaniel?"

Nate froze when he heard his mother. He didn't know what she would say especially in the presence of Clara. Clara saw the way he went ridged and she turned in her seat she saw why. Emily West in all her tall, well-to-do glory stood with a disapproving look on her face.

"Mother?"

Nate said, he didn't know why she bothered him, she did, after all, disown him just hours ago.

"Nathaniel, I thought your jaunts with this woman were over?" Emily kept her nose high, her back even as she spoke.

"Why should you care, mother, you denied the existence of me just over an hour ago, I thought you don't care what I do, now." Nate cast a nervous wink at Clara, his mother wasn't about to give up that easily.

"Nathaniel, I spoke out of rashness, leave her and return to us least we become a split family, you hold us together."

"Mother, why should I leave Clara when she is the best thing to ever walk into my life? When I'm around her I don't have to have money to make me happy."

"Nathaniel, it's a fling, a shipboard flirtation which will end the moment you set foot in New York. You will lose all interest in her after her falsehood stories end, she probably only wants your money. Her kind are nothing more than beggars who prey upon people like you; people who don't know better, who don't know when to put away their feelings."

To Clara the words stung more than anything. Even if he did leave his family for her they'd never accept it. He'd have her and only her, if her father was dead they'd have very little to live on. For once in her nineteen years she was unsure of what lay ahead, she was unsure on how to play against fate.

"Perhaps your mother is right, Nate, maybe my kind does target men who seem to be nice, who want to do the right thing. Maybe I'm after what's in your wallet instead of what's in your heart. Go back to your family, Nate; leave me out of the picture. Two different worlds can't get along, remember." She quickly stood up with the long awaited tears finally dripping down her face.

Nate wanted nothing more than to hit his mother in public, show her where she belonged but he didn't want things to get out of hand. He watched Clara go, her shoulders slumped, the tears rapidly falling down her face. With a glare at his mother, he stood, shoved his chair away from the table and hissed.

"Mother, you go back to father and enjoy the life you've woven together but leave me out of it. I want nothing more to do with people like you. I want to just live my life the way I please and I'm going to live it with Clara."

----------------

Sorry, this is a longer chapter that ended up totaling 12 pages/5700 words.

To whomever is reading this, would you prefer smaller chapters, or are these large ones okay?

Til next time,

x zuz