by L. A. Casey
“Come on if you’re bloody coming then,” I grumbled.
I heard the smile in his voice when he said, “Yes, ma’am.”
I could hear him chuckle under his breath as I exited my parents’ house and walked briskly down the pathway and out of the garden. He was hot on my heels and jogged to my side, where he easily matched my strides because his legs were a lot longer than mine.
“You’re going to give yourself a stitch if you don’t slow down,” he commented.
I grunted. “It’s either walk fast or thump you for—”
“For what?” he said, cutting me off. “Making sure you get to the inn safely? You think I’m taking chances when it comes to your safety?”
I sighed and slowed my pace down.
“You’re taking the decision away from me about whether you accompany me to the inn.”
Kale laughed. “It’s been years since I took anything from you. Let’s call this a catch-up on due goods.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re something else.”
“Yeah,” – he chuckled – “I know.”
My lip twitched.
We walked in an oddly comfortable silence for a few minutes, and when we neared the inn, something clicked within me. Back at my parents’ house, my instinct had been to run away because that’s what I was good at, but now I got it – that nothing had ever been resolved by leaving them, by leaving Kale, by leaving York. For six years I’d felt exactly the same as the day I left York, if not worse. I’d allowed my fears to blind me. I’d let the “what ifs” win.
What if I couldn’t handle seeing Kale happy with a family?
What if I came back home and fell into a deeper state of depression?
What if? What if? What if?
“What’s wrong?” Kale asked, clearly wondering why I came to a sudden halt.
I looked at him and blinked. “I’ve just realised something.”
He licked his lips. “What’s that?”
“I don’t want to stay at the inn; I don’t want to be away from my family,” I said, and shook my head clear as a cloud of confusion lifted from me. “I’ve been on my own for so long that I felt like I needed to get out of the house and away from them, but that’s not what I need at all. I need their love and support, and I think they need mine too.”
A smile broke out over Kale’s face. “Then let’s get your things from the inn, check you out and go back to your parents’ house.”
Could things really be that simple? I wondered.
I nodded. “Yeah . . . yeah, let’s do that.”
We walked to the Holiday Inn, and before we headed up to my room, I informed the lady behind the desk that I would be checking out. It was past checkout time, and I didn’t know if she would charge me a fee, but she told me it was perfectly fine, so Kale and I headed up to my room.
He hovered near the door while I walked into the room and lifted my suitcase onto the bed.
“That is your case?” he asked.
I nodded. “I left the city in such a rush, I just grabbed what I could think of and practically ran to the airport.”
Kale was silent for a moment and then he said, “I’m sorry you’re going through this, Lane.”
He was still the sweetest, most caring person, even with the hollowness within him now.
When I didn’t reply, Kale told me to get any belongings of mine from the bathroom, and he would wrap up my hair appliances, laptop and chargers. I planned on doing exactly what he asked, but the silence between us screamed at me. I didn’t understand why he was being so nice to me. I understood his being kind during my uncle’s funeral, but why hadn’t he so much as hinted at being mad? I’d left on such bad terms and hadn’t been there for him when Kaden died.
I swallowed and said, “Why don’t you hate me?”
He stopped rolling the wire around my hairdryer, and placed it on the desk.
“I’m not doing this in a hotel room, Lane.”
I sucked up my fear.
“And you aren’t leaving here until you answer my question,” I countered. “I don’t want to have our talk right now, I just want to know why you don’t hate me when I have given you every reason to.”
The muscles in Kale’s back tightened before he turned to face me, his hazel eyes locked on mine. “I’ve never hated you, and I never will,” he simply said with a shrug of his shoulders. “You mean more to me than any other living person on this planet, and if you think after not having you in my life for six years that I’m just going to ignore you and play some stupid game, then you’ve got another think coming, kid.”
I felt my eye twitch. “I’m not a kid anymore, Kale.”
The eyes I loved so much dropped to my chest, then lowered until he was leisurely drinking me in. It made me feel weak; one look from his whisky-coloured eyes and I was done in.
“I can see that,” he mused.
I swallowed and felt in my heart it was the right moment for me to say what I had been carrying around since last night.
“Kale, I’m so sorry about Kaden.”
He went silent for a long time.
“Who told you about him?” he asked after a deafening silence.
I looked down to my feet.
“My dad. I was at my Aunt Teresa’s and Uncle Harry’s grave the night before the funeral, and he showed me . . . showed me where Kaden was buried. I saw you and Drew at the plot yesterday after my uncle’s funeral, and I wanted to go over to you, but I didn’t want to interrupt you.”
“Look at me,” he said after a moment.
I exhaled before looking up at him, hating that his expression had changed to one of sadness.
“Thank you for your condolences about my son.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. I didn’t want to be formal . . . not about this.
“I saw his picture on his headstone . . . He was adorable,” I whispered, my eyes still closed. “He had your nose and lips; he even had your tiny birthmark on his neck.”
Kale’s breathing picked up, and I hated myself.
I opened my eyes but kept them downcast. “I’m sorry, Kale. I’m making everything worse. I’ll go and finish packing—”
I turned to walk into the bathroom, but Kale shot across the room and grabbed hold of my arm. “No.”
I turned my head and looked at him. “No, what?”
He stared at me with his puppy-dog hazel eyes. “Don’t leave. I’m not mad at you; I was just remembering my son. You would have loved him. He was the most perfect being I’ve ever laid my eyes upon, Lane. He was . . . everything.”
A sad smile curved my lips. “I’ve no doubt. He was your son, Kale. He wouldn’t be anything less than perfect.”
“You think he looked like me?” he asked, surprised. “I think he looked more like his mum.”
I smiled brightly. “Men always see the beauty of the mother in their children’s faces. He was the perfect mix of you both. You and Drew created someone astonishing.”
Kale’s eyes bored into mine. “Thank you.”
I nodded. “My pleasure.”
“Do you want to see a video of him?” he suddenly asked, his eyes alive with pride. “I have loads of videos, and pictures of him too.”
“Like you even have to ask,” I beamed. “Gimme.”
Kale smiled at me and quickly dug out his phone from his pocket. “I only have a few videos and pictures on my phone, but I’ve loads more backed up onto flash drives and storage sites that I can show you if you want.”
A daddy protecting the physical memories of his pride and joy. It hurt me that memories were all he had.
“I’ve got time to see every second of him, Kale,” I assured him.
He did something that shocked me then: he reached out and put his arms around me, and pulled my body into his. It wasn’t a hug of sorrow and sadness like the ones he’d given me over the past couple of days; it was a hug of promise. A promise of what I didn’t know, but whatever it was, I felt it in my bones.
&nb
sp; “I’ve missed you so much,” he said into my hair.
It took me a second, but I lifted my arms and put them around his body and squeezed him. “I’ve missed you too, Kale, more than you know.”
We stayed like that, hugging one another until Kale stepped back and stared down at me. “I know this might sound stupid, but I can’t believe you’re really here,” he said with a shake of his head. “When I first saw you on Friday in the parlour, I wanted to be the one to touch you instead of your dad, just so I could see if you were real. I’ve dreamt so many times about you being back here, I wasn’t sure if I was just seeing things.”
His admission stunned me.
“Kale,” I whispered.
“It’s dumb,” he blurted out, flushing slightly. “I know—”
“It’s not dumb,” I interrupted. “When I’m in my apartment in New York and I’m falling asleep at night, I hear your voice in my head. Sometimes it keeps me awake because I miss you so much.”
I wasn’t embarrassed to admit something so private; it felt right to tell him.
Kale swallowed. “You’re still my best friend.”
“I know, pup, and you’re mine.”
He looked away from me. “I can’t believe how our lives have turned out. Everything is so different from when we were kids.”
I sighed. “Tell me about it. I’ve wished for a time machine many a time to go back and change some things.”
Kale looked back at me then. “What do you want to change about your past?”
It was my turn to look away then. “You said you didn’t want to have that conversation here.”
He cleared his throat. “I don’t . . . sorry, I guess I’m just using every second I can to talk to you, and I’m saying the first thing that pops into my head.”
I looked back to him, reached out and pressed my hand against his arm. “I know this will be hard to believe considering I’ve bolted before, but I’m not running away. I’m going to stay right here in York and make things right with my family, and with you, before I even think about anything else. Harry would’ve wanted that.”
He would have. He had told me enough times over the years.
“What about you?” Kale promptly asked. “What do you want?”
“A lot of things,” I replied, my heart heavy.
He tapped away on the screen, then lifted his arm and turned it to face me. “This is Kaden.”
I gasped and immediately snatched Kale’s phone from his hand, which he found amusing. “Oh, my God,” I gushed as I stared at the newborn baby in the picture. “He is beautiful, Kale. Just . . . oh, my God. He was perfect. I knew your baby would be perfect, but he really was.”
Kale nodded. “He was everything.”
“Little angel,” I whispered and stroked my pinkie over the picture of Kaden’s beautiful little face.
Kale watched me meeting his son, with joy.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” I said softly as I scrolled through the pictures and watched videos of Kaden at various stages through his short life.
Kale was silent for a long time, but he eventually said, “You were with me; just not in person.”
I looked up from his phone and found him watching me. He backed against the wall and had his hands jammed into the front pockets of his jeans. He seemed to be positioned that way a lot whenever he was in my presence. “Why didn’t you want me here?” I asked, curious. “You told Harry not to tell me about Kaden’s death. Why? I would have come home. I swear I would have.”
He walked back over to me and kneeled before me, placing his hands on my thighs, sending my stomach into cartwheels. “I know you would have come home,” he said firmly. “Trust me, Lane, God himself wouldn’t have kept you away – and sweetheart, I know that.”
I blinked. “Then why didn’t you want me here?”
“Because,” he began, “you would have dropped everything for me. I didn’t want to hurt you again because I knew deep down I would have been using you to mask the pain over losing Kaden, and you didn’t deserve that. I didn’t want to take advantage of your feelings for me, and I probably would have to make myself feel better at the time.”
I solemnly nodded. “I understand.”
“Do you?” Kale prompted. “Do you understand how much it hurt that I needed you, but I couldn’t have you?”
“Yeah, Kale, I understand exactly how much that hurts.”
He stared at me, his eyes swimming with different emotions. “I’m so sorry for hurting you,” he whispered.
I smiled and said lightly, “I hurt myself, Kale – you did nothing wrong.”
“But I did,” he pressed. “I could have gone after you and brought you home.”
“That wouldn’t have changed a thing, and you know it.”
He frowned and stood up, moving back across the room, where he began to pack my suitcase again. He was silent for a minute or two, and then he said, “I know, but sometimes I wish it could have been that simple.”
“Me too, pup.” I swallowed. “Me too.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Seven years ago (nineteen years old)
Lane?” Lavender’s voice called through my bedroom door. “Are you alive in there?”
I groaned into my pillow as her voice wreaked havoc on my throbbing head.
“Stop screaming at me,” I rasped.
I heard Lavender’s chuckle as the door creaked open. It had been fixed years ago, but the squeaking noise never left after my father kicked the door in.
“I suppose asking how you’re feeling would be a stupid question?”
I grunted, my eyes still closed. “It’d be a really stupid question.”
I heard Lavender giggle as she crossed my room, her feet pattering across the floorboards. I momentarily wondered what she was doing, so I lazily lifted my eyelids, but I quickly squeezed both eyes shut when blinding light wreaked turmoil on my retinas.
“Bloody hell, Lav,” I whimpered, and pulling my pillow from behind my head, I plunged it over my face, coaxing my senses back into darkness.
“If it makes you feel any better,” she snickered, “you pulled one of the hottest lads I have ever seen last night, even if he is a bit weird.”
Though I didn’t forgive her morning wake-up call, I had to agree with her conclusion about last night’s escapades.
I smirked into my pillow. “He was a bit of all right, I guess.”
I chose to overlook the part about him being weird, because I couldn’t remember that much of what had happened to comment on it.
“You’re so full of it.” Lavender laughed as she climbed onto the end of my bed.
I smiled and slowly lifted my pillow from my face, wincing at the sunlight that filled my room. After a few moments of adjusting, my vision cleared and I stretched out my limbs.
“Did you wear protection?” Lavender asked, her tone very motherly.
I lifted my head and looked at her with raised eyebrows. “Don’t I always?”
She dead-panned, “Your reply makes you sound like a slut.”
I devilishly grinned. “I’ve slept with ten different lads over the last year and a half. I think that does make me a slut.”
“Hardly,” Lavender scoffed. “We both know you only get drunk and lost in the closest body because you feel rejected and hurt over Kale . . . still.”
My chest ached and my stomach lurched at the mention of his name.
“Not now, Lav,” I groaned, lying back down. “I’m too hung over for this conversation.”
“Tough,” my so-called friend chirped as she whacked both of my feet with her hands. “I’m getting fed up saying this to you, but here I go again. No matter how many people you have sex with, it will never erase your night with Kale. You can’t replace the person you want for life with the person you want for a night.”
I growled at Lavender.
“I’m nineteen and in university,” I argued. “Wasn’t it you who told me to play the field?”
“P
lay the field? Yes,” Lavender agreed, then narrowed her eyes. “Fuck every man in sight? No.”
I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Give over. It’s not funny and you know it’s not,” she grumbled. “You don’t want to be that girl, do you? The woman who degrades herself with meaningless hook-ups and loses herself because she is sad?”
I hated when she got deep like this, especially when I felt like shit.
I blinked. “I’m not sad.”
“Babe,” – she frowned – “yeah, you are.”
I looked up at my ceiling and grunted, “I knew I shouldn’t have come home this weekend.”
Lavender snorted. “We go to the same university and share an apartment. You can’t escape me.”
That was the sickening truth.
We both attended the University of York and lived in a student apartment close to campus. I studied English, and Lavender studied English in Education. After I got my Bachelor of Arts degree, I wanted to be a literary editor, and Lavender wanted to teach children. Her term was like mine, three years long, and she needed a Bachelor of Education degree to take the first step towards her dream job, and I was happy to take my steps right alongside her. We were in our first year of college life and loving every second of it.
I rolled my eyes at her. “Tell me something I don’t know.”
Lavender grinned. “Okay, Kale and your brothers are downstairs.”
I shot upright and quickly reached for my head when the room spun slightly. I closed my eyes, counted to ten and when I was sure I wasn’t going to vomit or pass out, I opened my eyes and narrowed them to slits.
“You lie!” I rumbled.
Lavender held up both of her hands in front of her chest. “I’m not – they’re downstairs eating. They didn’t know you would be home this weekend either.”
This couldn’t be happening.
“I can’t deal with my brothers when I’m hung over, and I can’t see Kale, knowing what I did last night with some stranger.”
Lavender raised a brow. “Why? I thought you didn’t care about him like that anymore.”
I gritted my teeth. “I don’t.”
“Come downstairs and prove it then,” she challenged.
I hated her.