Claire Fisher's life had always been entwined with death. As a member of the Fisher family, owners of the Fisher & Sons Funeral Home, she'd grown up surrounded by grief and the quiet acceptance of mortality. But it was Ted Fairwell who taught her that life could be more than just a procession of funerals.
Ted, the attorney at Braeden Chemical Legal Department, entered Claire's life when she started working as a temp secretary. He was different—steady, pragmatic, and unafraid to reveal his Republican leanings, even if it ruffled her liberal sensibilities. Their first date was a mix of awkwardness and unexpected connection. Claire's heart fluttered when Ted took her to the hospital after she received news of her brother Nate's stroke. In that sterile waiting room, she saw something in Ted—a positive force she needed.
Their relationship blossomed, and Claire found solace in Ted's arms. They laughed over shared playlists, his "un-hip" songs blending with her indie favorites. But life had other plans. One evening, as they sat in their cozy apartment, the shadows of the past crept in.
Ted's eyes widened. "Claire, I need to tell you something."
She sensed the gravity of his words. "What is it?"
"I used to work for the mob," Ted confessed. "I was their attorney, laundering money, covering up crimes. But I got out. They think I know too much."
Claire's heart raced. "Why are you telling me this now?"
"They found me," Ted said. "They want me dead."
The next few days were a blur of fear and desperation. Claire and Ted became fugitives, darting through dimly lit streets, always looking over their shoulders. The mob's hitmen were relentless, closing in on them. Claire's world shifted from funeral homes to survival. She learned to shoot, to trust no one, and to love fiercely.
One night, as they hid in a dingy motel room, Ted's face was pale. "Claire, I'm sorry. I dragged you into this."
She touched his cheek. "We're in this together."
They made a desperate plan—to confront the mob boss, expose their secrets, and hope for redemption. The showdown took place in an abandoned warehouse. Claire's heart pounded as Ted faced the man who'd once been his employer.
"You're a dead man, Fairwell," the mob boss sneered.
But Ted stood tall. "I won't be your pawn anymore."
The gunfire echoed, and Claire watched in horror as Ted crumpled. Blood stained his shirt, and she screamed his name. The mob boss fell too, lifeless.
Claire held Ted, tears streaming down her face. "Stay with me, Ted."
He smiled weakly. "I love you, Claire."
In the ambulance, Ted clung to life. Claire whispered promises, her fingers entwined with his. They survived the mob hit, but Ted's wounds were grave. As the sirens wailed, he whispered, "Remember our playlist."
Claire nodded, tears blurring her vision. "I'll play it for you every day."
In the hospital, Ted's breathing grew faint. Claire held his hand, feeling the fragile thread between life and death. He squeezed once, then let go.
Claire played their playlist, the un-hip songs blending with her grief. She vowed to live—for Ted, for redemption, and for the love that had defied the shadows.
