Clara knew it was always going to be hard being the old lady of Jax Teller but enough was enough.
Every day this week Clara had gone to be alone, she waited up for hin as long as she possibly could but when her exhaustion peaked she locked up the house they shared and went to bed, crying until she fell into a restless sleep.
Deep down she knew he loved her, he just had some things to work through, she just couldn't understand why he couldn't do it with her. That was the expectation of an old lady wasn't it? To be there through the good and the bad for him? Clearly Jax had other ideas.
She heard what sounded like a car come to a rapid stop, and then someone pulling at the front door. Clara opened the nightstand and pulled out the gun she kept there on Jax's orders for her own protection.
Pulling the covers close she aimed the gun at the door just as she heard a window open. She grabbed her cell debating who to call, the only one she wanted was Jax but she had a feeling he wouldn't bother to answer.
What seemed like hours later the bedroom door opened and let in an obviously drunk Jax. Clara let out a breath she didn't realise she had held and moved to help her drunken old man get settled.
She knew it was a mistake when he looked straight at her, fury shining clear in his drunken haze. "What the fuck are you still doing here you dumb whore, I thought me being gone would make you realise I don't want your fat ass any more"
As soon as he finished his slurred tirade she grabbed the nearest thing, which just happened to be a photo of the pair of them during better days and threw it at him. It hit him in the face and she watched as he crumpled to the floor in a drunken heap and immediately began to snore.
Deciding quickly Clara packed some clothes and sat in the kitchen smoking cigarette after cigarette debating whether she was better off gone. She heard Jax stirring so she left the last cigarette burning and she walked out the door, out of his life, finally realising she deserved better.
Jax was woken by an annoying buzzing that he thought was his phone but once fully awake realised it was actually the smoke alarm.
He jumped up confused as to why he was sleeping on the floor in the bedroom he shared with Clara and fully clothed – Did she not bother to help him?
He walked into the kitchen spotting a still burning cigarette and the smoke alarm blaring. He waved a towel at it to stop the incessant noise. He then spotted the open window and went to close it. He then saw the car in the front yard and little pieces came back to him.
He rushed round the small house hoping to find Clara holed up in the spare room, when he couldn't find her he grabbed his cell and called her.
Not surprised when it went to voicemail. "Clara hey, I can't remember what I said, or what you threw at me. I just know I didn't really mean it and I know I am my own worst enemy but baby please, can we forget about it, I promise I didn't mean it, I need you."
Realising he had probably lost the best thing in his life Jackson Teller did something he never did.
He sat and cried.
