Claire nodded, the real reality of the situation not fully sunken in yet. But it could take days, even months for that to happen.
“Do you,” she paused, as if suddenly unsure of the question she was going to ask. She shook her head and asked it anyways. “Do you want something to drink?” She stood up, pushing her hair behind her ears. “You look like you could use a shot or something.”
Without getting an answer she moved over to the kitchenette, opened the fridge and proceeded to pour two glasses of some sort of liquor. After she poured them she set the bottle on the counter.
“You must think I’m the worst person in the world,” Claire said without turning around.
She thought she was. At first leaving with Aaron with Monica seemed like such a good idea. Claire knew she wasn’t suited to be a mother, and everyone at the Hyperion could give Aaron what she couldn’t. She knew they’d never understand it, but when you love someone sometimes the best thing to do for them was to let them go, even if it killed you in the process. But now Aaron really was gone…dead, and she wasn’t crying. This made her feel even more horrible.