Say Love (Lost & Found #2)

by C. L. Stacey

  I agree with a nod. “Okay, I’m listening.”

  “I’m not a good person, I’ve always told you this. I’ve also told you that I tell women whatever’s necessary in order to get laid. That wasn’t the case with you, it never was. I’ve never lied to you about a single thing, not when it came down to my feelings for you. All that was true. I want to make that clear. You left thinking that all of that was a lie, and I can’t have you thinking that anymore.”

  I will not cry. I refuse to cry.

  “I also wanted to thank you for finding my brother. I didn’t handle the news so well the first time, but I’m hoping to change that soon. I think I’m ready to get to know him.”

  I offer him a small, supportive smile. “That’s great, Caleb.”

  A moment of silence hangs between us, and Caleb takes a hand to the back of his head, scratching. A habit I used to find so endearing. Whatever he’s about to say isn’t easy for him to get out.

  “All I want, Ari, is for you to be happy. If that is with Brody, then so be it. Will I be happy for you? No. But I promise you that I won’t bother you about what we used to be anymore; I think I’ve put you through enough. It’s time I let you go.” The sincerity in his apology, and the sad way he smiles back at me brings tears to my eyes.

  I don’t know what to make of this change in him, because I’m not entirely sure if I like it. I should be relieved, alleviated, but I feel the exact opposite of those things.

  “If you need a friend, call me. Rule number one: Don’t let anything that happens change us. I promised you that we’d stay friends if we didn’t work out, and I have every intention of keeping my word. That’s all I came to say.” Caleb rises from his seat. “Be happy, kid. I’ll see you around.”

  The use of his old nickname for me is enough to make me cringe. I always hated it when he called me that, and I still hate it now.

  After the last conversation I had with Ari in her home, it helped me make peace with the situation. I’m not sure if I’ll ever have the closure I need to be able to fully close the book on us, but it did bring me a lot closer to accepting everything for what it is. Just over.

  Brody’s good to her, and she seems happy. I don’t want to be the person to make her unhappy anymore.

  All I am now is a horrible memory, a piece of her past, and I need to learn to accept that and move on. Maybe one day she’ll be able to call me a friend again. Until then, the only thing I can do for her is be patient.

  I’ve been given a chance to experience something I never thought I would. For that I should be grateful, and I am.

  “I won’t be making a follow-up appointment after I leave here today,” I tell Kellerman. “I came and got way more than what I was originally searching for, and I thank you for that, Dr. Kellerman.”

  “What is it that you’re referring to, Mr. Carlisle? What more did you get from coming here?”

  “Clarity.”

  “Clarity?”

  “I was trying to correct some of the mistakes I made with Ari through Lexi. I was trying to redeem myself, in a way, I suppose. I wanted to know that I could be a good friend to someone without somehow finding a way to ruin their life, like I did to Ari.” I run my hand across my forehead. “Everything was going great, until Lexi was shot. Then it took me back to the night Stefan attacked Ari. It’s the first time I really thought about her in a long while, and that’s exactly when the nightmares had started.”

  He gives a single nod. “Makes sense.”

  “When I found out what Stefan had done, I wanted to kill him. I don’t say that lightly, doc. It’s not like, ‘Hey, you drank the last of the beer, I’m going to kill you.’ I wanted to watch the life drain from his eyes.”

  “Watching Lexi bleed out—I felt exactly the way I did that night. Brad hurt her, and I thought she was going to die. I tackled him to the ground. He was going to shoot me. We wrestled, struggled… and when I saw him take the gun to his head, I… stalled. In that split second, I wanted him to do it.”

  “When I finally came to, I rushed to take the gun from him, but his brains were already splattered across the floor.” I shake my head, feeling some of the weight lift from my chest following my admission of guilt for the first time. “I stalled. So I can’t help but wonder… did I kill him?” I ask, needing an answer.

  “No.”

  “What does that make me, then?”

  “Human,” Kellerman states simply. “You didn’t take the gun to Mr. Davis yourself. He took the easy way out. He knew of the consequences of his actions, and he wasn’t ready to face them.”

  “He should be rotting in jail right now, paying for his mistakes.”

  “We all end up paying for our mistakes, one way or the other, Mr. Carlisle. I don’t imagine he’s resting peacefully.”

  A small laugh leaves my mouth in the form of a breath. “You believe in hell?”

  “I believe there is a Heaven. I believe that one cannot exist without the other. So, in other words, yes. I do believe in hell. Don’t you?”

  I shrug, considering the question. “I guess I do. But I don’t believe you have to die to get there.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Usually, breaking anything I feel down into words for someone to easily understand is borderline impossible. Not this time. This question is not at all difficult for me to answer.

  “Heaven’s perceived as a blissful, peaceful place. Hell’s perceived as the exact opposite, a place of great suffering. When I was with Ari, Heaven’s exactly where I believed I was. Without her, I feel nothing, emptiness. I suffer the loss of her every single day. Is this not hell?”

  With a thoughtful look, Kellerman answers, “While I do see your side, I believe that our suffering lasts for only as long as we allow it. We are only stuck if we give up. All it takes for you to come out the other side of this place you’re in is to get up and fight your way through it.”

  I nod, agreeing with him wholeheartedly. “I went to see Ari the night of our last session.”

  “Really?” he asks, seemingly surprised. “Did you tell her?”

  “I wanted to. I went there with every intention of telling Ari. God knows I’d put it off for far too long…”

  “I’m sensing a but…”

  “Well, I realized something.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I’m Randy.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Randy… he’s a nobody. He’s this cunt of an ex Ari used to date, until he cheated on her. The circumstances are of course different; he was fully aware of what he was doing when he cheated, and I… I was out of my goddamn mind. But that’s beside the point, a cheater is still a cheater. Am I right, doc?”

  “I suppose that is… true…” Kellerman shrugs. “But it doesn’t make you this Randy character. No one person is the same.”

  “While I was waiting for her to get home, I kept thinking about how much she’s changed. She must’ve worked so hard to get over what happened, and I was about to disrupt that for her all over again.”

  “A long time ago, Ari said that hurting people is what we do, that we do it to fulfill our own selfish desires. What kind of person would I be if I proved her right? I don’t want her living in a world where that could be a hundred percent true. I wanted to do the right thing, for once.”

  “She’s obviously moved on, and I just… I just couldn’t bear hurting her anymore to fulfill my own selfish desire. She deserves to be happy. I want for her to just be happy. That’s all I’ll ever want for her.” I bring my leg up, resting my ankle against my knee and the side of my head against my fist.

  We sit in silence for a moment, and it’s weird because Kellerman’s usually always ready with a follow-up question or statement of some kind.

  “What do you think, doc?”

  “I think that you were wrong before. I think that you are definitely capable of love, Mr. Carlisle.”

  Dear God, where the hell am I?

  The place is filled with
children running from their parents like criminals from cops. Off to the side, I hear a baby crying. Members of staff are vastly outnumbered by needy customers— price-checking, stock-checking.

  And I’m standing in the middle of an aisle, staring at a shelf full of pink shit, surrounded by products I don’t know the first thing about. I’m overwhelmed by all the choices.

  I have no idea what the hell to look for.

  “Excuse me!” I nearly shout at a female employee, stopping her from whizzing past the aisle.

  “Yes, sir?” She turns into my aisle with a smile, ready to assist me.

  “I need advice, if you have a minute.”

  With a knowing laugh, she agrees to help me with a nod. “How old’s your daughter?”

  “Niece. She’s, um…” I do the math in my head. “Three… and a half… I think.”

  “Hmm…” The girl looks around the shelves. “Do you know of her interests?”

  “Interests? She’s three.”

  Another patient laugh leaves her mouth. “No, I mean, does she like princesses? If so, which ones? Does she like dress-up? Does she—”

  “Whoa—wait, I’m going to stop you right there. I have no clue. I haven’t seen her in almost two years.”

  “Well… let’s see.” The girl heads down the aisle, and I follow her. “Dress-up is always a hit with the kiddos—”

  “What about that? Do you sell that?” I point toward a pink princess castle some little girls are having the time of their life in.

  “We do.” The girl nods.

  “In stock?”

  “Yes. Were you interested in that one?” she asks.

  The little girls are told they have to go home by their parents. When they stubbornly shake their heads no, the parents physically remove them from the castle. The girls start screaming bloody murder, faces turning red when bursting into tears.

  “Yes, I’m interested in that one,” I tell her.

  The girl asks for help through the walkie in her hand.

  When the person on the other end informs her that a couple of employees will soon be by to help us, she asks me if I was interested in anything else before heading to the front of the store to checkout.

  “Which princess dresses are popular?” I ask, staring at the collection in front of me.

  “How much were you looking to spend?”

  “Doesn’t matter. The more the better.”

  After giving her the freedom to choose, she starts pulling them off the rack. “Belle, Aurora, Cinderella, Snow White, Rapunzel, Elena of Avalor, Sofia, Elsa, Anna…” the girl recites each princess’s name before handing me a dress.

  I’m holding eighty years of Disney in my arms. I should’ve fucking brought Lexi. Why didn’t I think of that? I could’ve been out of here by now.

  “What about makeup?”

  “No!” I shoot the offer down immediately. The abruptness in my delivery startles the poor girl. “I’m sorry. She’s three,” I tell the girl again. “And I hate makeup. Babies in makeup sounds terrifying.”

  “Okay,” she laughs.

  Before heading to the front, the girl grabs a few tiaras when I okay it.

  I check out, load princess-palooza in the back of my car, and then I’m on my way to Aryn’s.

  I received a phone call from him this morning. After telling me that he’d finally made his move to LA a few days ago, he asked to see me. Which is what brought me to that toy store.

  Heading over to see Ayli empty-handed didn’t seem right. I didn’t have too many toys growing up, but I remember appreciating the ones I had.

  The Tuscan-Villa style home I pull up to suits Aryn perfectly. While not overly flashy, the property’s got plenty of space on an expansive lot. It’ll be a perfect place to raise Ayli in. Definitely better than the high-rise tower with no backyard to play in.

  I hold off on unloading the car, heading straight for the front door.

  The door opens a few short moments after I ring the bell, and I frown when I’m greeted by an empty space where Aryn’s face should be.

  “Hello, mister,” a small voice greets me from below.

  A grin splits across my face when I’m met with a pair of familiar silver eyes. “Oh, my God,” I utter under my breath.

  “What’s your name?” she asks like she’s waiting for me to give her the secret password to enter.

  I crouch down, bringing myself at eye-level with my niece. “You don’t remember me, do you?”

  Ayli thinks about it before shaking her head.

  “I’m Uncle Ca-Ca!”

  Her brows push together with her thoughtful expression. “My daddy said your name was Caleb.”

  “Well, it is. But you used to call me—” I stop when I realize that conversation could get a little heavy. I hold my hand out mid-air instead. “Five me.”

  Ayli’s mouth lifts into a smile, and she smacks her tiny hand against mine.

  “I taught you that,” I tell her.

  “Ayli, who’s at the door?” Aryn’s voice comes from inside.

  “Ca-Ca!” she shouts back.

  “What’s your daddy doing?” I ask.

  “Unpacking.”

  Aryn comes walking toward the front of the house, and I straighten myself back up to greet him.

  Unsure of what to expect, I stand nervously, waiting for him to speak first.

  “Caleb, hey.” Aryn smiles, holding his hand out to me.

  Relieved by the warmth in his greeting, I take his hand, and we both lean in to clap each other against the back. “Hey, man, how are you?”

  “Good, just trying to get settled. Come in.” He nods into the home.

  “In a minute, I got some stuff for Ayli in the back of my car.”

  “Presents!” she screeches from down below.

  “Yes, presents,” I laugh. “Wanna see?”

  Ayli turns to look up at Aryn. He reaches down to pick her up and follows me outside.

  The trunk lifts open when I press the button on my key, and Ayli lets out a loud gasp. “Which one is mine?”

  The question makes me laugh. If I went around, randomly handing presents to little girls in the neighborhood, I could end up going away for a long while.

  “Well, which ones do you want?” I ask.

  “That one.” She points to the castle. Of course. “And that one.” She points to the bag with the dresses. “And that one.” She points to the bag with the tiaras.

  “So, basically, you want them all?” Aryn chuckles.

  “Yes,” Ayli answers honestly. Shameless. Guiltless.

  “That’s good. They were all for you anyways.” I ruffle her hair before leaning in to grab the castle box. Aryn sets Ayli down and grabs the bags.

  Ayli can barely contain her joy, skipping alongside us while we carry everything inside.

  When Ayli’s tiny hands reach for the dresses, the tone of her father’s voice makes her freeze. “Ayli,” he warns.

  “Yes, Daddy?”

  “Lunch first.”

  “’Kay.” She walks toward her tiny table and sits to finish the half-eaten sandwich she’d abandoned to answer the door earlier.

  I see the flat screen in the living room is playing an animated film, and I smile when I notice two characters right away from the dresses I bought earlier. “Does she like this movie?” I ask, hoping to learn that it’s one of her favorites.

  Aryn shakes his head. In a lowered voice, he answers, “Every day, I get closer and closer to stabbing myself in the ear. Ayli’s obsessed with all the songs. I can sing ‘Let It Go’ without having to pull up the lyrics. At first, I thought it was catchy, but after hearing it a billion times, it’s just fucking ridiculous. Fuck Disney.”

  “Ooh…” I tilt my head with a laugh. “You’re not going to want to say that in front of your boss’s wife-to-be.”

  “What?”

  “Lexi’s obsessed. In fact, when you meet her, sing her that song. She’ll love you forever.”

  Aryn laughs at t
he suggestion. “Uh, pass.”

  “Daddy?”

  We both turn toward Ayli, and Aryn answers right away. “Yea, baby?”

  Her mouth is packed with her sandwich. Like she shoved the whole thing into her mouth. “Can you build my castle?” Her question comes out a muffled mess.

  “Ayli, don’t talk with your mouth full.”

  “Yes, Daddy.”

  “But, yes, we’ll build your castle,” he accepts her request, following with a condition. “Can you clean up your area and color for a little bit?”

  “Yes, Daddy.” Ayli stands from her seat with her plate in hand, reaching on her toes to place it on the counter before returning to her seat with her coloring book and crayons.

  “God, she got so big in the time I haven’t seen her,” I say, my tone bittersweet.

  “Yea.” Aryn stares off at her with a proud smile.

  “I see a lot more of Kayli in her now…” I say, careful when mentioning her name.

  “Yea, we all do,” Aryn agrees, small lines creasing his forehead.

  “Do you two talk about her at all?”

  Meeting my eyes again, Aryn nods. “All the time. She has a lot of questions.” He shrugs. “I do the best I can, show her pictures, stuff like that.”

  Before I can say anything else, Aryn excuses himself to go and retrieve his toolbox.

  We’re halfway through building the castle. Neither of us bothered to mention the fallout we had over his sister, just sticking to neutral topics when conversing through the easy building process.

  Right up until Aryn asks the first question to set us down that path. “Do you know why I called you here?”

  “Didn’t care to ask. Just glad you did.” I offer a tight smile.