Sealed With a Vow

I didn't even realize that I had fallen asleep on the couch when the sound of the front door opening woke me up.

Oh great, he was home.

Derek switched on the living room lights and immediately, my hands went to shield my eyes from the sudden brightness. Geez, did he really have to do that? For god's sake, I was having such a nice dream!

He was about to make his way upstairs but then paused when he saw me. What did he want now?

"If you're not gonna watch the TV, then turn it off," he ordered with a stern voice.

"Well sor-ry. I fell asleep," I stated, rolling my eyes. Did he always have to be this bossy?

"Have you had dinner yet?", Derek asked, undoing his tie.

Yes hon, I'm pretty sure everyone eats dinner before two in the morning.

"Yup. I left you a plate on the table as well. You'll probably have to microwave it though 'cause its been sitting out for hours. Speaking of which, where have you been?"

"Work," he replied before heading upstairs.

Of course.

That was always his excuse. I bet he slept with a different girl every night, although I couldn't care less about what he did.

I directed my attention back to the TV and since nothing good was on, I switched it off.

There, you happy now, Derek?

I went to the kitchen to grab a glass of water. My stomach suddenly began rumbling, so I decided to eat something light. I opened up the fridge and took out some leftover salad from dinner.

Derek showed up as I was sitting down at the table...wearing nothing but boxers. His abs were visible and I inmediately scolded myself for even staring at them. Seriously, was it that hard to put a shirt on?

I hated to admit it, but my husband was indeed as handsome as everyone claimed him to be. He was quite tall, around 6'2", with dark brown hair and the bluest eyes. His jawline was chiseled to perfection, and he had the body of a Greek god.

If only he was as beautiful on the inside as he was outside.

Derek's personality seriously made me want to throw up sometimes. He could be so rude and demanding. But once in a full moon, he'd do something nice for me- like carry one grocery bag when we go shopping while I carry the other five.

Pathetic, I know.

I usually went by myself though. I tried to avoid sitting in a car with him as much as I could. It'd get awkward because neither of us would talk. You could say that he and I were like the north and south poles. Complete opposites of each other.

To be honest, I didn't even know that much about him, and it had already been over six months since we got married back in January. He was still just a stranger to me.

As far as I was concerned, Derek James Weston was an extremely rich and successful CEO at the age of twenty-four. And he had a suckish personality.

"Aren't you supposed to be in bed?", Derek asked, pulling out a chair across from me to eat his "dinner".

I swear, if I ate this late like he did everyday, my stomach would've been the size of a giant balloon by now. But then again, the guy worked out a lot, so I guess it balanced everything out.

"I'm eating," I replied with a blank face, waving my fork in the air, which caused the tomato that was on it to fall to the ground.

Oops, I shouldn't have done that.

"Smooth," Derek commented with a chuckle.

"Oh be quiet."

I reached down to pick it up, accidentally banging my head against the table during the process. And of course, I looked up to see Derek laughing his ass off. It was a deep sound that made me feel all tingly inside.

Whoa, what on earth was I saying? Did I even hit the table that hard?

"God, you can be so funny sometimes," he said with a teasing smile.

"Just shut up and eat your dinner."

And everything was back to being quiet again.

The truth was, I couldn't even remember the last time we ate together. Derek would always leave for work early in the morning and then come home super late. Maybe it was just his way of trying to avoid seeing me.

After I finished my salad, I left my plate in the sink then headed upstairs to my bedroom.

"Hey, Claire?", I heard Derek call from the kitchen.

"Yes?"

"What were you watching on TV?"

"The NHL draft," I replied. Why did he care?

"Oh, I didn't know you were a hockey fan," he remarked.

Yes Derek, there's a lot you don't know about me.

And for the second time that day, my thoughts drifted to Nick Schneider. Tomorrow would mark the three-year anniversary of his death. I'd always visit his grave when I went to Minnesota to visit my mom and brother. And each time I did, the realization that he was truly gone would hurt more and more.

As soon as I got to my room, I pulled out the box from underneath my bed that contained Nick's jersey, blowing off the dust. I hadn't taken it out in a while, but tonight was just one of those nights. After all, it was draft day.

I held the red jersey close to my chest as tears spilled from my eyes. I could still imagine Nick's scent on it and the expression on his face when he had worn it.

"Oh Nick, why did you have to go?", I muttered out loud as I mourned for my best friend.

It was then that I felt truly alone and wanted nothing more than to have Nick by my side again. I climbed into bed with the jersey still in my hand and cried, letting all of my emotions out.

I heard Derek coming up the stairs and then his footsteps headed in the direction of my room. Immediately, I forced myself to stop crying so that he wouldn't hear me.

"Claire, are you all right in there?", he asked, knocking on my door.

"I'm fine. I'm just blowing my nose. It is allergy season, right?", I lied.

"Oh. I thought I heard you crying or something. Never mind then."

And with that, Derek walked off, probably to his bedroom, which was located at the other end of the hall.

As soon as I was sure that he had left, I cried until I couldn't anymore before falling into a deep sleep.