It's been a little over one year since I shared an update with everyone in this community. Since then, a whole lot has transpired, and I've received somewhat regular inquiries wondering just when Part 4 might arrive.
I'll admit that writing has fallen off my plate in that time. It's been difficult to balance school, life, and of course, Claire. While it is impossible for me to summarize all that has come to pass, I'll do my best to get you up to speed before diving into the precursor to what has easily been the greatest sexual encounter in my young life thus far.
First and Foremost, Scott and Claire are getting a divource. It has been coming for some time, but I had no idea just how difficult things would become before Claire's patience ran out. The last straw came just a few months after Part 3 was written:
I was sitting at my kitchen table on a late summer night getting some school work done. My windows were open, and the smell of fresh cut grass and cool evening air was seeping inside. I heard the sound of a car engine in the distance, growing louder, and I assumed it was Scott returning home from another late night at the bar. It was not.
A police cruiser came to an abrupt stop outside of Claire's house. I saw the porch light turn on and heard the front door open. The officer got out of the car and walked briskly to the base of the porch. While I couldn't hear the conversation, something was clearly very wrong.
Moments later, there was a knock on my front door. Standing outside was Claire. She had hurriedly changed clothes. There were tears welling up in her eyes, and she looked almost grey.
"What's going on?" I said, peering outside. The officer was walking back to his patrol car.
"It's Scott," She said, a mixture of pain and anger visible on her face, "He got in an accident on his way home. I'm sure he was wasted."
"Oh my gosh! Is he okay?" I said, shocked, but not surprised.
"Sounds like he'll be fine. He's at the hospital right now. I've got to go. Do you mind staying over and keeping an eye on Jeremy, he's asleep?" The tears were rolling down her cheeks now.
"Of course, let me grab a couple things and I'll be right over."
I ran back inside, grabbed my computer, some school work, and headed over to her place next door.
"You really are a lifesaver." Claire said before giving me a hug and getting into her car.
I sat inside on the couch and studied for a few hours before I heard a car pull into the driveway. A minute or two later Claire made her way inside and sat down. She was pale. Her eyes were bloodshot, and her expression was torn between exhaustion, anger, and sadness.
I watched her quietly, having decided that it would be better to let her do the talking. After staring at the ground for what seemed like an eternity she finally broke down in tears and sunk down onto the floor.
"I am so over his shit." Claire said through her sobs.
I ended up sitting there with Claire for a couple of hours before finally going back to my place sometime around 3 or 4 AM. She did a lot of talking and a lot of crying, but the whole time she never wavered from her decision, it was over.
Scott came home from the hospital later the next day with his arm in a cast and a walking boot on one of his legs. The argument that followed was one of the saddest things I've ever had to listen to, and unlike many of the arguments that I was used to hearing next door, in this one it was Claire that did most of the yelling. It ended with Scott and a suitcase on the front porch and a door slammed in his face. Claire had had the wherewithal to leave Jeremy at a friend's house, so he didn't have to hear it.
I didn't see or hear much of Claire in the week or two that followed. School kept up its usual pace, and I was also in the midst of training for a marathon that was just a few weeks away. Even so, I kept checking my phone waiting for her to reach out, and she never did. Of course I had no idea what all might have transpired between Claire and Scott in the meantime. I could only hope that we hadn't been discovered.
Scott came over to try to talk to Claire a few different times that I saw. One time he brought flowers. The next time he brought a friend to carry some things out of the garage. The last time he was drunk. He stood pleading and knocking on the front door for a good fifteen minutes before finally driving off into the night.
A couple days later it was the weekend, maybe two weeks after Scott's trip to the hospital, I was watching a soccer match on TV when I finally got a text message from Claire.
It read something like this, 'Sorry for dropping off the face of the earth. I needed time to process everything and focus my attention on Jeremy. Can I come over sometime soon?'
I replied right away, 'No need to apologize. Jeremy should be your priority. You can come over anytime, no need to knock. I'm home all weekend.'
She replied with a 'Thumbs Up' Emoji.
Maybe twenty minutes later I heard the back door open and close followed by the ever familiar footsteps up the stairs and through the kitchen. Claire was wearing jeans and a tank top. Her hair was down which was unusual for her. Her eyes were red and lacking their normal energy and excitement. She looked absolutely exhausted, but she still managed a smile as she held up a plastic bag.
"I brought some sushi.' She said, "Mind if I join you? Jeremy is over at a friend's house for the afternoon."
"Not at all," I replied as I moved a few textbooks onto the floor.
During the couple of hours that ensued Claire told me everything that had transpired in the time since Scott's accident. It turned out that she had been very cautious and had been meeting with a lawyer in the months leading up to the accident, and had a very strong case against Scott, who apparently had decided to not put up a fight so far. Scott had moved into an apartment near the law firm and had apparently already tried and failed to quit drinking at least twice.
Claire had definitely brightened up a bit by the time that she left to go pick up Jeremy, and I couldn't stop myself from wondering just where things between Claire and I might lead now that she was moving forward with the divorce.
Fast forward a month or two. It was now fall and I had moved into the intern/hands-on phase of my schooling which actually opened up my schedule a bit. Claire and I had slowly and gently fallen back into our pattern of love-making, only now we both felt noticeably more free, and I'd even spent the night at her house a couple times.
