by C. L. Stacey
“No.” I shake my head, welling up again.
If I look at him now, I’ll break. I’ll fall apart and cry. I’m so sick of crying.
If I look at him now, I’ll only fall in love with him all over again, making myself vulnerable.
If I look at him now, I’ll run straight into his arms, and I refuse to be that girl.
I asked him why he was here.
He told me he came to tell me the truth.
What does he expect from me now that I know? Peace? A truce? A second chance? What? What does he want?
We’re barely friends now. I’m not putting what little we have back in harm’s way. I heard from my brother last week that he and Caleb have reconciled, and that he wants me to do whatever I feel is right for me, that he no longer wants to be the reason for standing in our way.
That’s not good enough for me. Caleb needs to figure out just what the hell he wants, and he needs to be able to say so with confidence. I can’t handle another dead-end with him. I won’t ask what he’s doing here a second time. I won’t sit here and spoon-feed him all the answers.
Without first giving me the answer I’m looking for, I can’t let him back in.
If he wants me back, he needs to tell me so.
“I love you.”
I stop, the weight of his words halting my steps.
Three words. Eight letters. I love you.
There is no perfect moment to tell someone you love them.
The perfect moment comes with saying it.
“I love you.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, I’m set free of all the misery, the anger, but at the same time, it hurts. My heart swells with so much fucking love that it hurts so good.
Ari stops pacing, then she turns to shake her head at me when I take a step forward.
“I love you, Ari,” I say again. Needing to say it again. Then I say it for every moment I wanted to but didn’t, for the times I let the opportunity roll by me.
Three more steps, and my arms are around her. Snaking my fingers in her hair, I force her to look at me when she tries to turn away. Tears burn in my eyes when I lower my forehead to hers. “I have every right to say those words to you. I’m here because I’m not giving up on you again. I want you back. We belong together. It will never work with anyone else. I love you, only ever you.”
Ari bursts into tears, trembling in my arms. She doesn’t say anything, just stands there and cries.
I’ll stand here and hold her until my legs give out if she needs me to. If it’ll help, even just a little, to make her feel safe again, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do. I’m never letting her go again.
“You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear you say that.”
Relieved to know that she feels the same way, I squeeze her tight, crushing her to me. “You’re all I need, Ari.”
Bringing her arms up and around me, Ari holds on tight. “You’re my one, Caleb.”
With newfound confidence in what’s really in Ari’s heart, I shake my head. It’s not enough. “No.”
“No, what?”
“Say it, Ari. I need to hear you say it.”
“I love you, Caleb,” she whispers against my shoulder. “Only ever you.”
Letting out the breath I had no idea I’d been holding in, I feel tears spill down my cheek. I’m not sad. I’m not sad at all. I’m mind-numbingly happy.
Happy tears. I’ve seen Ari shed them, but I never really understood why. Not until now.
“Marry me.”
Ari giggles. “Um, no.”
“Aw, man, that worked for Jackson.”
A hard smack lands against the center of my back, and I turn to press my lips against the side of her neck. “It’s going to happen,” I declare. “And you’re going to have my babies,” I add.
“One thing at a time, Caleb.”
“No, I want it all. I want everything.”
“How many am I supposed to have?”
“Three.”
“Three!” she exclaims.
“I want a big family. Be glad I didn’t give you my original number.”
One Month Later
Taking my strong recommendation, Ari started seeing Kellerman a couple times a week. He’s been so great about helping her through her issues, and I see the old, happy Ari slowly returning to me.
Let me stop here. I’m leading you astray. Our life is far from your version of perfect.
When Ari felt ready enough, she invited me to join in on her sessions. I learned about all that happened to her the night of the attack. We talked through it. I’d crumbled partway through, but not to worry, I came out the other end okay.
Then, came the fighting. Ari learned about my post-Ari number. She’s not at all pleased. Even though we weren’t together at the time.
She gets really jealous.
And I fucking love it.
We’re still fighting. About the same damn thing.
We have a new rule.
We only fight in therapy.
When out of therapy, we’re as happy as can be. Because of all the fighting in therapy.
This makes my life easy.
Right now, we’re in the middle of our second session with Kellerman as a couple.
So, hold that thought. I have to pay attention. She hates it when I miss something, accusing me of not listening.
With a hand by his head, Kellerman listens to Ari and I shouting over each other.
“Quick, Caleb, give our therapist your number,” Ari challenges me.
I recite my phone number.
“The other number,” she grates, eyes a chilling shade of blue.
“It doesn’t matter, dear.”
“Of course it matters!”
“You opened up to another man!” I counter back.
With a roll of her eyes, Ari dismisses my issue. “That’s irrelevant.”
“How is that not relevant?”
“I never opened my legs for him, Caleb, while you drilled your way through most of LA! So really, which is worse?”
“Still yours.”
“How the hell is mine worse?”
“You opened your heart to him,” I state, still bitter and wounded by the fact.
“I never let him in, Caleb. He was just a distraction.”
“And a pretty one at that, wasn’t he?” I bat my eyelashes to mock her.
Snapping her head in Kellerman’s direction, Ari jabs a thumb over her shoulder to indicate me. “He took a crazy bitch home with him,” she stresses for the billionth time. “Did he ever tell you about her?”
My head hangs back with exhaustion. “She drove me home. I. Was. Trashed!” I smack my hands together between each word, for the sake of emphasis.
She disregards the fact completely. “And then he let her into bed!”
I shoot up, straightening my back and scooting to the edge of the couch, and then I hold a finger out to both of them. “She climbed in with me!”
Spinning out in an angry, jealous rage, Ari rants, “I refuse to step foot back in that house. I hate that house.” Then she whips her head around, leveling me with her piercing glare. “I hate your house. I want it burned to the ground,” she growls.
Intensely heated screaming matches with a significant other may be draining for some.
But I’ve honestly never wanted her more.
“You say that you two never fight outside of therapy,” Kellerman states.
“Never,” we respond in unison.
“How do you two manage to get along? How do you manage to keep everything bottled up until these sessions?” he asks curiously.
I turn to Ari with a smirk, and she sinks back into the couch. My gaze drops to her chest when her arms come to fold against it, perking her cleavage. Then I stare at her lap when she brings her leg up to cross over the other, making her dress ride up a few inches over her thighs.
“Hate sex,” she tells him.
My eyes swing back in Kellerman’s direction. “She smacks me
around a little bit. I kinda like it, I must say.”
“Freak,” Ari mutters dryly.
“Bitch.”
“Slut!”
I bring my hand over the other in the form of a T. “Timeout.”
As we do whenever things get just a little too intense.
I lean over, and Ari meets me halfway, stretching her neck out to kiss me before returning to her side of the couch.
“I’m not a slut. I’m your slut. There’s a difference. You need to specify,” I tell her.
Giggling, Ari returns her attention to Kellerman, and so do I. He appears slightly stunned by the peculiarity of our exchange, going from hostile to sweet at the simple call of a timeout.
He writes something down on his notepad, and I shoot Ari a wink.
“What happened with the boyfriend?” Kellerman asks Ari.
“I’m right here,” I answer in her stead.
“My apologies, I was referring to Ms. Andrews’s ex,” he clarifies.
Swiveling my head in her direction, I wait to hear Ari’s answer.
“He wasn’t the one,” she answers simply. Turning to meet my gaze, she says, “There are days where I just…” Her hands come together in the form of a chokehold. “But you’ll always be my one, Caleb. Only ever you.”
That familiar wave of happiness washes over me, soothing me, calming me.
“Marry me.”
Exhausted with my game of word-vomit-marry-me, Ari rolls her eyes. “NO.”
“Uh…” Kellerman shifts uncomfortably.
I throw my hands up, letting them drop back onto the couch. “Don’t feel too sorry for me, doc. She’ll say yes. One of these days.”
“Not if you continue asking like that, I won’t,” she says out the side of her mouth.
“Why don’t you just give me a list of demands to meet,” I suggest. “It’ll save me some time.”
“No set of rules this time, Caleb. You need to figure this one out on your own.”
Bringing a hand up, I turn my head into it to conceal my smile.
I get that timing is everything when popping the question. I’m not an idiot.
I also know that tradition is very important to Ari.
Which is why I already sat with Carl and Jane two weeks ago when visiting them in New York.
They said yes.
I asked Aryn, too.
He said yes.
Oh, and I also asked Ayli. Just to be safe.
She said yes. After suggesting that I get Ari a ‘big one.’
I wisely took my niece’s advice. I have a ring. And it’s a big one. Bigger than Lexi’s.
I’ve already booked the room for New Year’s Day at the Four Seasons New York. Same exact room.
I’m taking it back to the beginning to ask her for forever.
Don’t worry. She’ll say yes.
The End.
Hubs: Friends for fifteen years, lovers for eight, married for six. I love you first, now, and always. Thank you for all that you’ve done and will ever do. Also, thank you for not being nosy. You make keeping this secret so easy.
Spawn: Thank you for being you, for being mine.
Chelsea Kuhel: Huge thanks to my editor for seeing this book all the way through. Thank you for being patient and kind.
FictionPress readers: Thank you for your undying devotion and loyalty to my stories and characters over the years. Thank you a million times.
To the reader: Thank you for simply picking this up, for inviting my characters into your life.
CL Stacey is a Florida native, born and raised. She still resides in the Sunshine State with her husband and daughter. Relaxing with any good love story she can get her hands on is her favorite way to end the day.
In effort to keep her dream world from colliding with her wonderful reality, she keeps her writing life a secret.
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