I hesitantly push open the door before taking a couple steps into the brightly lit room. He’s leaning against a small ledge with his back to me. He has a pencil in his right hand, making long strokes onto a thick sketchpad, and his phone in his left hand pressed to his ear. Just seeing him standing there adds to the realization that I’ve missed him so damn much.
“Yeah,” he says into his phone as he turns toward me. The smile he’s wearing immediately fades when his gaze meets mine.
“Later,” he mumbles as he drops the pencil on the ledge and shoves his phone into the front pocket of his jeans.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were on the phone,” I tell him with a hint of nervousness in my voice. I’m so afraid he’s going to ask me to leave and never come back. His lips remain firm, and his eyes are full of emotion. But it’s not the happy, “I’m so fucking excited to see you” emotion. But rather the “what the fuck are you doing here” kind of emotion.
“Why are you here, Henley?” He takes a couple steps toward me.
I suddenly feel awkward. Why am I here? I should’ve texted or called. My heart is racing against my chest. I hope he doesn’t see the effect he’s having on me right now. Because I’m having a super hard time controlling my expressions, my body language, and my need to jump into his arms and hold on to him so fucking tight.
Caleb stops just inches from me with raised eyebrows. He’s waiting for my answer. And I know without any doubt that today’s the day I tell him about me and then cross my fingers and hope like hell he doesn’t walk away. Or in this case, tell me to walk away and never come back.
“I missed you. So fucking much.” My voice is breathy. Because breathing is pretty much all I can do right now, and even that’s difficult.
“So, let me see if I understand.” His brows knit together, as he continues, “You left town almost a month ago with one simple text, and today, you decide to show up here at my job during the middle of the day and tell me that you missed me so fucking much. I have no idea where you’ve been or what you’ve been doing. But you had some kind of communication with Smitty, because he knew you were coming back. So, with that, I know you had the ability to use your phone; you just chose not to use it to contact me. Did I leave anything out?” he asks as he jams his hands in his front pockets.
“No, but you make it sound so—”
“So… what, Henley? Mean and hurtful? Or maybe deceitful and dishonest. I don’t know what to think about you, me, us. I don’t even know if there is an us anymore,” he cuts me off.
“Please don’t say that,” I plead.
“Say what? The truth? Somebody needs to, because, from what I can see, you are avoiding the truth or anything remotely close to it. You elude any and all conversations that may accidentally let me in here.” He lays his open hand over my heart. The warmth of his touch seeps through my shirt directly onto my skin. I’ve missed this so much. Him, his touch, my overwhelming need to be a part of something that includes him. The only guy who has ever come close to breaking down the walls I built around my heart.
I don’t know what I was expecting. But it wasn’t this. I had hoped he would say he missed me and he still loves me. Because he does. He must. He just fucking has to still love me.
“When things get a little tough, you’re supposed to hold on tight and fight for this.” He motions between himself and me. “Not tuck your fucking tail and run away. I trusted you with my truth. With my secrets and my past. I opened up to you,” he hisses. “So the least you could’ve done was to show me a little respect. Because, dammit, Henley, I was fucking worried. About you. About whether or not you were alone. If you were safe. In case you didn’t know it, a relationship involves two people, not just you. Fuck. Why am I even wasting my breath?” His voice is deep and ragged. He turns away from me and drops his head.
“I’m sorry, and I love you,” I whisper.
He either doesn’t hear me or chooses to ignore me, because he walks back to the ledge to the sketchpad and picks up his pencil. He moves it quickly along the paper. His strokes are short—quick—impatient. He’s so angry.
“My mother was sick. She almost died. My dad showed up at the school to take me to her. I had to go. She and I… let me just say that we don’t have a very good relationship. I hadn’t talked to her since I came here. And the thought of her dying and me not seeing her one last time was the only thing on my mind when I left that day. It had nothing to do with you or us. You have to believe me,” I tell him, knowing this is only the tip of the iceberg.
He shifts his weight as he drops the pencil and grips the ledge with both hands.
“When I left school two years ago and came to New Orleans, I did so for an important reason. To be alone. To be away from her and the confinements of her protection. She was always so overbearing. She suffocated me with her need to watch over me. To make sure I was okay.” Shit. I don’t know if I can do this. It seems like too much to tell in one sitting.
But I suck in a deep breath and continue. “I have issues, Caleb. I mean real problems that I should have made you aware of sooner. Before feelings and emotions got involved. Because, to be honest, this is probably one of the most difficult things I’ve ever had to do. Telling you about me.”
His weight shifts again, but this time, he releases his hold on the ledge and turns to face me. A part of me wants to look away. This is so damn hard to do. Somehow, it seemed easier when I was talking to his back instead of his face. He folds his arms across his chest as he glares—yes, glares—directly into my eyes.
I hold his gaze before continuing with the truth. The secret that I haven’t said out loud in what seems like an eternity. “I have Retinitis Pigmentosa. I realize those two words don’t mean anything to you, but they mean everything to me. Everything. God—this is so difficult to do,” my voice trembles. I close my eyes, wishing he would say something… anything. But when I open them, he’s still standing there with his arms crossed and those brown eyes burning through me.
“It’s a genetic disorder that causes blindness.”
I said it. My secret is out. The truth hangs between us.
His face is void of emotion. He doesn’t look away, but he doesn’t speak either. So here we are, standing just a few feet apart. His past and my future linger in the air.
“So, it basically means that one day I will see nothing. Only darkness. There is no cure for this disorder, so nothing will change my fate. What makes it worse is that I have no way of knowing how long it will be before my vision is taken from me by this horrible condition. So, this is why I’ve been so protective of my privacy. Why I fought my parents so hard to be alone. Because I don’t want to ever be a burden on anybody.” I struggle to get out the words.
There is still no reaction from Caleb. He’s not moved an inch. His breathing steady, calm.
I’m suddenly at a loss for words. I don’t know what else I need to say. My eyes are dry, but my heart is heavy. I truly believed my revelation would have played out differently. But I guess not. He said his piece when I first got here.
I pull my eyes from his and turn toward the door. This went well. So fucking well. His lack of words is the only reassurance of his feelings that I need. I move slowly toward the hallway. Never looking back.
Thirty
Caleb
“Is she okay? Your mom—is she okay?” I ask, hoping like hell Henley hears me before she makes it out the door.
She hesitates, so I know she did. But right now, I’m sad and confused and have no idea what to say. So I just spit out the first thing that came to mind.
I’ve always known she was hiding something. I just never imagined it would be so life-altering. I thought she was probably hiding from an ex-boyfriend, or maybe she had an affair with one of her professors while in college and got caught. Or fucking anything but this. Her future actually molded and shaped her present, and it fucking sucks.
“Yeah, she just went home from the hospital. At first, the doctors were
n’t sure she was going to make it. She had an infection in her kidneys, and because she didn’t go to the doctor for treatment, the infection spread to her blood. She was really sick for a while, but I’m thankful she’s home now.”
She looks over her shoulder at me while still standing halfway in my station and halfway in the hall. Her eyes are glassy. Fuck! The last thing I want is for her to cry. No, the last thing I want is for her to be alone. And as long as I’m around, that’s not gonna happen.
I walk quickly to the door and wrap my arm around her waist. As I guide her back into my station, she covers her eyes with her hands. Once she’s inside, I push the door shut and lock it.
Once the door is secure, I turn around, and she throws herself into my arms.
“Please give me another chance,” she pleads. “I promise I’ll never leave you again. I’ll never walk away from us without you knowing why. There are so many things I’m unsure of, and one is how to do this. How to do us,” she cries. Her face is pressed against my chest, and her hands are holding onto my T-shirt like her life depends on it.
I should say something. Anything. But what? The girl I quickly fell so deeply in love with just told me she has some rare genetic disorder that causes blindness.
I pull her closer into my body, doing my best to comfort her. This bitchy, feisty, beautiful girl is mine. I love her, and she loves me. And right now, that’s all we need.
“I’m sorry I was such a dick earlier, and I’m sorry your mom was so sick. But you should have told me, because I wouldn’t have let you go through that kind of shit by yourself.”
She squeezes me tighter, before saying, “Thank you.” Then she sniffles a couple times before rising to her toes and kissing the left side of my chest, just above my heart.
“It’s beating again, because of you,” I whisper. I’m such a pussy, but hell, it’s the truth. She makes me so fucking angry at times, but I can’t help the way I feel about her. “I love you, and I’m here for you. We can talk about your vision if you want. But that’s completely your call.”
She lifts her head from my chest and inhales deeply.
“I don’t want to talk about it now, but at some point, if we work through this and are still together, then we will have to address it. But right now, I just want to live like a normal twenty-six-year-old. And spend as much time with you as possible.”
She traces my lips with her finger before wrapping her arms around my neck and pulling my lips to hers.
She tastes so damn good. Fuck, I’ve missed her. I’ve missed this.
When she pulls away from the kiss, her gaze meets mine. Her dark eyes shine brightly, and I know we are gonna be okay. No matter what happens, this girl is it for me. My forever.
Thirty-One
Henley
Epilogue
Seven years later
The lead singer of the band FastHook belts out the final words of the song, and the crowd goes crazy. Seriously. These people can’t get enough of all the indie bands that grace the stage this year at Crave the Music Festival. Every year, all the local bands get together and have a two-day concert, and even though I’ve been in the city almost ten years, this is my first time to attend. Caleb wraps his arm around me and pulls me into his warm body. I rest my head on his chest while we wait for the next band to take the stage.
It’s been a little over seven years since I walked into Caleb’s apartment that stormy night and beat the shit out of him. He’s over it. Well, at least he says he is. But he still doesn’t like to talk about it.
“So what did you think of the band?” Caleb whispers into my ear.
“Which one? They’ve all been great. Thank you for bringing me.”
He pulls me in tighter and kisses the top of my head.
We spent the first couple years attacking our problems together. I know his struggles are so much different from mine. Especially living in a city like New Orleans, where there’s a bar on every corner. Somehow, we’ve been able to fight through the temptation together. I’m so proud of him.
Over the years, we’ve learned that to make this relationship work, we talk about everything, including my controlling mother and the fact she’s not happy about me having someone like Caleb in my life. Her words—definitely not mine. We’ve also spent time discussing Piper’s death and how it affected him. We laugh, cry, and mourn the loss together. We each found our way to New Orleans for a different reason, but I truly believe it was fate that brought us together. And maybe Smitty. Since it was his apartment where we first met.
“Anything for you,” he says, and I can hear the smile in his voice.
He moves away from me slightly, and I know what he’s doing. My husband is so damn predictable. Yes, my husband. I still get giddy when I think about being married to the most amazing man in the entire world. We were married three years ago in a small ceremony at his Aunt Maria’s home in Houston. It was one of the best days of my life.
Caleb’s hands cup my face just as his lips meet mine.
“I love you,” he whispers against my mouth, and this makes me smile. Every. Damn. Time.
I brush my lips against his, before saying, “Love you forever.”
He drops his hands from my face and gently grabs hold of my arm.
The next band doesn’t come on stage for about an hour, and I’m kind of wearing down. Or at least I need to sit for a little while.
Caleb must notice me getting fidgety, because he says, “You want to head home for a while? You know we can come back later tonight. I just don’t want you to overdo it.”
Oh, yeah. Home. We both gave up our apartments when we got married and moved into a condo together. He’s still with Smitty, and I’m still at the school, but every night, we’re together. Caleb’s sponsor, Mike, was a bit worried about our relationship at first, but soon realized we work best together. Caleb still goes to his meetings every morning, and I’ve even been to a few Al-Anon meetings to better understand his disease process and what he needs from me.
“I want to go home. I think I need a nap,” I tell him. I wish I weren’t such a wimp, but standing for long periods of time makes me exhausted. Lately, too much of anything makes me tired.
Caleb releases his hold on me and his shoulder brushes mine as he leans between us, grabbing my bag. He puts it in my hand before I dig out my folded white cane. This has become a necessity, along with my dark shades. My vision left me gradually. It didn’t happen like I expected. It was truer to what Dr. Bartholomew predicted. It left slowly—day by day—until it was gone.
I can still see some light, but other than that, I’m pretty much completely impaired. I’m not sad or depressed about it. I’m happier than I’ve ever been. I have a man who adores me, an amazing job, and—
“You don’t need this,” Caleb says, pulling me away from my thoughts. He gently takes my cane from me and puts it back in the bag. Then he slides his hand in mine.
“I’ve got you, babe,” he says with a smile in his voice. Then I feel his hand on my growing belly. He rubs it gently, before continuing, “I’ve got both of you… forever.”
Thirty-Two
Epilogue
Beautiful Baby
Caleb
“I’m going to explode!” Henley’s voice echoes through the car. “I can’t… I’m not… I mean… Take this fucking seatbelt off me!” she screams.
I glance to my right and notice her glasses are still securely on her face, covering those beautiful brown eyes that I fell in love with all those years ago, but I think there may be fire rushing from her ears as she wrestles with the strap of polyester that is securing her to the seat.
“What the fuck are you doing over there?” she spits out, directing her question at me.
“I’m driving, babe,” I tell her, my voice calm and soothing. I keep my left hand secured to the steering wheel and slide my right hand over the console and rest it on her thigh.
“Why is your hand on my leg?” she asks as she grabs my hand and slin
gs it off.
I hold back a laugh, even though I know there is nothing remotely funny about what she’s going through.
“Henley, please try to calm down. This can’t be good for you or the baby,” I plead with her.
“Like you know what’s good for me or the baby. Have you ever had a seven-pound human trying to claw its way out of your body?” she hisses.
Henley, my wife, is hopefully just a few hours from giving birth to our first child. And for some reason, she doesn’t seem to be handling it very well. All the promises of how she would never let her pain override the fact she loves me are apparently forgotten.
“No, I can’t say that I have, but I promise you’ll be fine. We’re only a few blocks away from the hospital.” I grip the steering wheel a little tighter as I will my body to relax. Even though I’m not experiencing any of the pain, my nerves are shot. My girl is trying her hardest to be brave, and if her blaming me for her pain and suffering helps her fears, then she can blame me all she wants.
The deafening silence that follows my answer to her question is fucking frightening. Since Henley began having contractions about forty-five minutes ago, she hasn’t stopped talking. At first, she was excited but nervous, gathering her things and loading the car. Then she went into full bitch mode—which I expected—and hung out there for most of the ride. Now there’s nothing but the sound of our breathing.
I roll to a stop at a traffic light just two blocks from the hospital. “Everything okay over there?” My gaze moves to Henley as I reach for her hand and place it in mine. This time, she doesn’t resist, but instead, she locks her fingers securely with mine.
“Yeah, I’m good.” She sniffles.
“Henley, baby, are you crying? Please tell me you’re not.” I lean over and wipe a tear from her face. Dammit! I would rather her scream at me all night than shed one single tear.
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