**Claire POV**
Reneé leaves for tour in 2 days, tonight and tomorrow night are our last nights together for 65 days. She's just started packing, I've been helping her and it's absolutely killing me. She had to go meet with her team about a few last minute things, so I am at the house finishing up her laundry and hiding all my favorite t-shirts of hers so she can't take them with her. I've been trying to enjoy every moment with her before she leaves, but to be truthful I am dying inside. I am sad, yes but mostly nervous. All I can think about are the what ifs.
What if Reneé goes on tour and realizes she'd rather be single? What if she meets someone new and breaks up with me? What if she decides she doesn't love me as much as she thought she did? What if she barely talks to me and then breaks things off when she gets back? What if she cheats on me again?
I do my best to push those thoughts to the back of my mind, I think I know deep down that everything will be fine. Our relationship now is stronger than it's ever been and I truly don't think she would ever do something like that again. I finish folding the last of her laundry and take it to our room to put it away, even though she will probably pack most of it. On the floor of our closet, there are two suitcases sitting open with clothes piled up high. I spot my favorite pair of her sweatpants, so I pull them out and stuff them into a drawer with the rest of her shirts I have been hoarding, she won't even notice.
I walk into the bathroom and notice she's started a pile of her things to take on her side of the vanity. I'm not sure why, but for some reason that is what does it for me. Though insignificant, it's enough to send me over the edge. I collapse on the floor and start to sob silently to myself. At first it's just a few tears, until the overwhelming thoughts of everything starts to flood my brain. I cannot stop crying, I really don't want her to go. I need her to stay here with me. I haven't had a panic attack in years.
I try to catch my breath but I can't. I am a total and complete mess on the bathroom floor. Suddenly, I hear the front door slam. Fuck, Reneé's home. I can't let her see me like this, I don't want to talk to her about any of this. I don't want to make her feel bad, I know she's excited and I know all of this is out of her control. I stand up to lock the bathroom door as I hear her call my name.
"Claire?" she yells from downstairs. I say nothing.
I hear footsteps on the stairway and I know she's going to be suspicious when she sees the bathroom door closed. A few seconds later, there is a knock at the bathroom door.
"Claire?" she asks again, but still I don't say anything. She jiggles the doorknob, trying to get in.
"Baby, are you in there?" she questions, her voice sounding worried now. She jiggles the knob more aggressively as I continue to sob.
"Are you crying?" she asks, still pulling at the knob "Claire, let me in"
"No" I mutter "just give me a little bit, okay?"
"Are you okay though? What's wrong?" she questions.
"I'm okay" I assure her, although I'm not sure if I am.
"Claire, can you please just open the door?" she pleads, I can tell she's worried. I finally stand up and unlock the door, she whips it open almost immediately.
"Baby, what is wrong?" she asks when she notices my puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks. She pulls me in for a tight hug and I continue to sob into her shoulder. She rubs my back to calm me down but for some reason it just makes me more upset.
"Hey, it's okay" she soothes, pushing my hair behind my ears as I continue to cry into her "let's go lay on the bed instead of the floor"
I nod and follow her back into the bedroom, she lays down on her back and I collapse on top of her, laying my head on her chest. I finally feel my tears start to subside and I think she notices my breathing has calmed down a little bit.
