Carry You Home (Carry Your Heart #2)

by K. Ryan

  I was no better than her piece of shit father. Always wreaking havoc, always leaving chaos in my wake. Unreliable and disappointing.

  Maybe that ATF agent was right all along: maybe this life was just a bitter, fucking cycle. I might be going in for a couple years this time, but it could be longer next time and there would be a next time.

  Isabelle would be a normal art student in Richmond if it wasn't for me and none of this would've ever happened to her. Her life would be so much better if I just wasn't in it and she deserved so much more than the lifetime of shit I had to offer. And then I heard Becca's bitter, spot-on voice in my ears and I shook my head. Being with her doesn't make you a better person—it's just makes her a worse one.

  As my legs gave out on me, I stumbled backward until my back hit the wall behind me and I sank down to the tiled floor, one arm folded across my knees while the other flew up to cover my face. The tears wouldn't stop and I didn't really care. It was all I could do just to keep myself sitting upright against the wall.

  I was so lost in the grief, so carried away by the torrential waves crashing through me, that it took me a few moments to realize my mom had discreetly texted me to let me know the doctor needed to talk to me.

  After shoving myself up to my feet and wiping my eyes one last time, I pushed through the bathroom door and headed back down the way I'd come before. Dr. Reynolds was already waiting for me right outside of Isabelle's room with his hand supportively on my mom's shoulder, but the better part of my attention fixed right on the door. It didn't matter if she slept through the next week, she needed to know I was right here in this with her.

  Dr. Reynolds nodded to me politely and then over to my mom, who reached out to slip her fingers around my hand.

  "I know how difficult tonight has been for you," Dr. Reynolds started slowly, genuine regret filling his quiet voice. "So I'll make this as brief as possible and then you can get some rest. I'd like to keep Isabelle overnight for observation. There's some bleeding that needs to be monitored and if it should get worse, it's better if she's already here so we can act quickly if needed."

  All the blood drained from my face in alarm and the doctor jumped to explain.

  "There's no need for immediate concern," he told me gently. "Given everything her body's been through, not to mention the emotional toll, I'd rather play it safe."

  Dr. Reynolds paused for a brief moment to consult something on his chart and as I cast a sideways glance at my mom, I could see the visible relief cross her face. I didn't really understand everything the doctor had just said, and while bleeding seemed like something I should be worried about, if my mom's reaction was any indication, I would just have to take the doctor at his word.

  "Lots of women go through this," Dr. Reynolds continued. "It's not uncommon, unfortunately, and those same women go on to have successful pregnancies afterward when they're ready. You're both young and healthy and you've got time on your side for that."

  My heart plummeted at the doctor's words. There was no way he could possibly know that time, in fact, wasn't on our side. In two weeks, I'd have to go in front of a judge, plead guilty, and pray to all things holy the judge would throw a little mercy my way and accept my 12-18 months plea.

  It wasn't likely.

  If Isabelle and I were a normal couple in normal circumstances, we'd be able to start trying again when Isabelle was ready. Now, whenever that happened, I probably wouldn't be around anyway.

  "Thank you for everything you've done tonight," my mom called out to the doctor in a quiet, somber voice.

  I immediately extended my hand. "Yeah, thanks, doc."

  Dr. Reynolds smiled weakly as he shook my hand. "You're welcome. I just wish I could've done more. One of the nurses can bring you the memory box whenever you want."

  "I can stay the night with her, right?"

  The thought of leaving Isabelle here alone tonight sent terror rippling down my spine and I squeezed my mom's hand searching for anything to make this easier. I never found it.

  "Of course you can," Dr. Reynolds nodded.

  When the doctor left and my mom left with plans to come back with a change of clothes for us and some food, all I wanted to do was just get her home. Right up until they pumped her with sleeping meds, she'd been trying so hard to to be strong.

  And then I realized I'd been standing here like a zombie and that Isabelle had been alone for too long already. I needed to get to her; I needed to hold her; I needed to let her know she could cry and scream and throw things and do whatever else she needed to do.

  I needed to hang onto her for as long as I possibly could.

  So I creaked open the door, tip-toed to the bed as quietly as humanly possible, and crawled into the hospital bed with her.

  . . .

  Isabelle

  I shifted uneasily in the hospital bed, wincing at the stiff soreness in my abdomen. Everything still felt foggy as my body slowly began to wake up again, but that glaring absence in my stomach wouldn't go unnoticed. Was it always going to hurt this much? Was I always going to feel so empty now?

  Rough fingers moved gently through my hair and then I couldn't stop myself from shifting on the bed so I could really see him.

  "Easy, Iz," Caleb murmured against my cheek. "You probably don't need to be moving around so much."

  "It's okay," I winced a little and finally relented, letting him turn me until we were lying face to face on the bed.

  "Hey," he smiled softly and moved forward just enough to kiss my forehead.

  "Hi," I tried a smile, but it didn't feel right. "How long have I been out?"

  "A couple hours. My mom was here before with some food and some clothes. She wanted to let us rest for a little while, but she'll be back."

  Smiling was a wasted effort, so I opted to lean into him instead. The second my cheek made contact with his chest, my entire body convulsed with sobs. I just couldn't hold it in any longer. There was nothing that could stop it. Nothing that could make this go away, not even Caleb's tender touch or his gentle kisses in my hair.

  The feel of his hands on me, in my hair, pulling me against him made me forget for just a moment. For that moment, it was just the two of us here, holding each other, and without the emotional baggage of this night. And then everything came rushing around me. The searing emptiness in my stomach, the agonizing pain, the anguish of what we'd lost tonight and another wave of sobs racked my body.

  "I got you, Iz," Caleb whispered in my hair. "I got you."

  My body just completely gave out on me now as tears pooled into Caleb's T-shirt and I was vaguely aware he seemed to have drawn me in deeper and somehow closer against him. All I could do was bury what was left of myself against him and allow him to catch me.

  I didn't know how long we laid here wrapped around each other. The only things my mind allowed me to focus on were his gentle massaging into my hair, his lips pressed against my forehead, and the wetness on my cheeks. Slight tremors shook Caleb's body and it was then that I realized the moisture on my face and in my hair wasn't just from my grief. We were both suffering and in two weeks, we'd would both have to suffer alone.

  Now I snapped out of it a little and reached up to gently wipe his cheek clean of his fresh tears. I pulled away from him just enough to really get a good look at him and what I found sent me plummeting back to the depths of despair. His normally bright and vibrant cobalt eyes were now an ashen black, tortured and anguished, and lined with tight, red creases.

  My fingers lightly traced the skin where the compass I'd drawn for him was inked on his forearm and his hand quickly closed around my own.

  He opened his mouth to speak, but his face fell. I wasn't even sure if my voice would actually work, but I had to try. He deserved this, especially after the way he'd swooped in, just like he always did, and put my needs and my well-being before anything else. He'd never hesitated to reach for me and I knew I needed to give some of that back.

  "I love you," I whispered, my voice crac
king from the sheer weight of it all.

  His face twisted in anguish and then his lips pressed gently against mine.

  "I love you too," he murmured against my lips. "So much."

  I sucked in a sharp breath and allowed my fingers to continue their ministrations across his tattoo. "And here I was starting to feel like we could do this, that we could be parents and maybe not completely screw it up."

  He smiled sadly and his Adam's apple bobbed violently as tears welled up again in his devastated eyes.

  "Do you think it'd be alright if I waited a little while to finish the mural?"

  Caleb nodded immediately through his tears. "Absolutely, Iz. Whatever you want."

  I knew how stupid it was that, out of everything, the mural was the thing that had bubbled to the surface, but maybe that was just the safest thing to fixate on right now.

  He grasped my fingers again in between his hands and pressed a long, meaningful kiss into my fingertips. "Just tell me what you need and I'll do it. If I can't do it, I'll get it for you."

  I laughed in spite of myself, relieved I really was able to feel something other than pain and numbness.

  "I need you to keep holding me and kissing me like this."

  He nodded, immediately kissing me again. "I can do that."

  We stayed like that for a few moments longer until his voice cracked against my hair.

  "I named her, Iz."

  My head jerked away from his chest. "What?"

  Caleb swallowed tightly. "The doctor said you were right. She really was a girl and I—I named her Ava like you wanted."

  There was just no way to ever prepare yourself for something like this. I'd always known I was right, even when it was too early to truly know, but hearing the confirmation...the sledgehammer that had flattened my heart got back to work again.

  "I put Katherine for her middle name," Caleb went on quietly. "You were sleeping and I didn't want to wake you and I figured that was what you would want—"

  I cut him off with my lips, my heart swelling at yet another reminder why he was absolutely everything I needed. He was and always had been everything to me. With him, all the pieces of my shattered existence could be pieced back together again. It would take time, but I knew that at the end of the day, as long as I could lean on this man, who was the glue that held everything together, there would be light at the end of the tunnel.

  There would be life after this night.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Cancelled

  Isabelle

  The music thumped in my ears, effectively drowning out everything else, but the beat, the paint, and the canvas. My brush swirled and swayed to the rhythm, but what I was doing right now could hardly be categorized as art. Leaning back to study the muddied shapes on the canvas, I cringed at the sight.

  It had been over a week and I'd spent most of that time right here, perched on my tiny stool as I attempted to exorcise the demons threatening to consume me. Which also meant my interactions with Caleb had really been few and far between. He was giving me the space I craved right now and I knew it, but the timing couldn't possibly have been worse. Caleb was due in court in three days and here we were, as far apart as ever.

  When the day we were supposed to go to City Hall came and went, neither of us even acknowledged it. And now that we were staring down a separation, the length of which still had to be determined, this distance was only going to make things worse.

  With a sigh, I gingerly set the paintbrush down and rubbed my hands anxiously against my thighs. Shutting him out wasn't going to help anything. What I really needed right now was for everything just to go back to normal. But, the problem was, with all these impending changes in my life, I had no idea how to define normal anymore.

  The idea of having to confront these changes and work through this emptiness without Caleb there beside me was excruciating. How could I possibly expect to heal without being able to lean on the other half of my soul? How could I possibly expect to move on without Caleb moving in step beside me?

  That last thought was all the motivation I needed to propel me out of this room and out into the rest of the house. I hadn't seen Caleb since earlier this morning, when we'd had a quiet, almost awkward breakfast. Our interactions had been tentative at best with Caleb mostly treating me like glass and with me mostly keeping my distance.

  The time for separation was over.

  Figuring he was most likely working on his bike or something along those lines, I rounded the corner to head towards the garage only to find Caleb already stepping into the kitchen. It was hard not to see him like this, in just a pair of red Nike shorts with sweat and grease streaked across his bare chest, and not drop everything to wrap my legs around his waist. I hadn't realized how much I'd missed him until just now.

  That familiar stirring pulled at my stomach and I had to swallow down the urge to sprint toward him. While my doctor had cleared me for things like exercising and general day-to-day activities, sex was not on that list yet and it wouldn't be for another week or so, which was really a week too late. Still, I found myself chewing absentmindedly on my bottom lip with my eyes focused on those taut muscles.

  "Hey, Iz," he called out to me as I slowly closed the distance between us. "I thought you'd be working a little longer."

  "I did too," I shrugged. "But it was starting to look like a huge blob of nothing, so I thought I'd see what you were up to."

  "Okay," Caleb nodded softly and ran a hand over his scruff.

  We stood there awkwardly for a few long moments and I chewed on my bottom lip as he nervously tugged a hand through his hair. He was just standing there looking so hesitant, not wanting to make the first move and wanting to give me whatever I needed, but not completely sure what that exactly was. I couldn't wait any longer. All I needed right now was just to be close to him.

  But when I got close enough to wrap my arms around him, the typical warmth I was used to seeing in his eyes wasn't there. He was smiling, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. For a moment, he even seemed frozen by my touch. Then a beat later, his calloused hands grazed my waist before pulling me flush against him as he buried his face in my neck. With a deep exhale, I leaned into him, reveling in the feel of his bare skin against my cheek.

  One of his hands was gently massaging my head now as he drew me in closer and I squeezed my eyes shut. Our foreheads found their way to each other and I lifted my head just enough to search for his lips and carefully pressed my lips into his. Caleb jumped a little at the sudden contact, but it only took him a moment to recover from his surprise.

  Instead of pulling me in, like he always did, his fingers tenderly grazed my cheek and I wanted to cling to him for as long as I could. He released me almost immediately, rubbed his hands anxiously on his thighs, and gestured to our kitchen table.

  "Iz," he started unsteadily as he pulled out a chair for me. "I think we should talk about what's gonna happen when I'm inside."

  I swallowed hard and nodded despite the fact that all I wanted to do right now was forget about everything and just be with him.

  But when I sank down into the chair across from him, something shifted between us. I stared back at him in a daze, searching his face for the cause. This was more than just the weight of the last few weeks. I knew his expressions like the back of my hand and right about now, the steeled, blank resolve in his eyes sent my heart plunging down into my stomach.

  We sat there like that for a few long, silent moments as Caleb quickly averted his eyes away from me and the longer I sat across from him, the more I felt like everything was about to come crashing down around us again.

  He squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed a hand roughly over his face. "I don't think it's a good idea for you to visit."

  Those words had me frozen to the chair and I couldn't move even if I wanted to. Suddenly, my eyes darted around the kitchen, searching for the easiest way to cut and run. Maybe if I could get out of here and bail before he had the chance, maybe I could
stop this.

  Caleb swallowed tightly and when he forced his gaze back on me, his eyes had glazed over. I furiously shook my head at him and just as I started pushing back from the chair to run, his cold voice stopped me.

  "I don't want you to wait for me, Iz."

  My mouth dropped open in protest, but my throat was hoarse and dry, unable to form the words I needed. I stared back at him in shock, my heart thundering wildly in my chest.

  "I don't understand."

  I understood full well what he wanted, but I needed to hear the words. I needed to make him say it.

  He glanced up at me for just a moment and then tore his eyes away. It felt so foreign to see him this way, so spineless, so cowardly, and I couldn't reconcile this man with the man I fell in love with a year ago.

  "Iz," he started again shakily, still unable to meet my eyes. "I—"

  "Why are you doing this now?" I sputtered furiously. "And you know what? If you're gonna lay this on me now, at least fucking look at me!"

  His cloudy blue eyes shot up at my outburst and the blank expression there quickly eroded into clear pain. At this point, I couldn't have cared less.

  "Iz—"

  "Don't call me that," I snapped.

  He shifted nervously in his seat and chewed on his bottom lip with a brief nod. "Alright. I know the timing doesn't make sense to you, but I wanted us to have a couple of days to sort everything out before I leave. Like I said, I don't want you to visit me. I'm not gonna," he swallowed hard as his voice caught on the words, "I'm not gonna put you on my visitors list."

  I leaned away from the table, feeling like the walls were starting to close in on me and now, I just wanted to scream.

  "What about us getting married? The baby? All that just never happened?"

  He couldn't hide the pain that flashed across his face, but he recovered quickly. "It's just better this way. You can stay at the house for as long as you need to, but—"