Don't Explain

by Audrey Dacey

  Charles kissed the top of her head and said, “I think I could fall in love with you easily.”

  Caitlyn jolted up and turned to face him. “What?” she gasped.

  “You would be easy to fall in love with. You're vibrant and beautiful and distracted. These things intrigue me, and I find that I could easily love you.”

  She stared at him intently, “Now who's jumping into the future?”

  Charles laughed quietly. “I don’t want this to be our last date. Let’s work around your schedule.” He leaned in and softly pressed his lips against hers. She searched for the spark. It was there the night before, but she couldn't quite feel it now. Caitlyn grabbed his face and kissed him harder and more deeply trying to find or create a connection that would make her feel what Charles was feeling for her, but all thoughts of love still returned to Michael.

  Please, she begged herself, feel something. Feel something for Charles.

  She positioned herself so that she was straddling his lap. She ran her fingertips across his chest and sucked gently on his neck. He embraced her tightly in return, and while his body comforted her, it was not exciting her. There was no passion, no want for more than an embrace. She pushed herself away from him and looked into his eyes. They were kind, friendly, and full of desire.

  She moved off of him. “I am so sorry. I can't do this.”

  “What's wrong? Is there anything I can do?”

  “Yes,” she said quietly. She quickly rose from the floor and straightened out her blouse. “Charles, I am so sorry, but I can't do this with you knowing that I belong to someone else. You have been great, but if we continue I’ll end up hurting you badly, and I don't think that I will be able to stand that. So, I think that you should leave.” He looked at her dumbfounded for a moment. “Please,” she begged.

  Charles lifted himself from the floor and held her hands in his. “He broke your heart,” he gently reminded her.

  “I know, but it still belongs to him—to break and repair.” She gently kissed him on the cheek. Her hands dropped his, and she escorted him to the front door. “Thank you for the past couple of nights. You really were wonderful.” He looked at her in awe. He didn’t say anything. He just shook his head and left without resistance.

  Caitlyn ran to her bedroom and pulled off her shirt and jumped out of her pants on the way. Searching through her closet she tried to find something appropriate to wear and eventually settled on a large, knit navy sweater that was Michael's eleven years ago. She had claimed it before he could donate it to charity. Even back then he told her that it looked great on her. She pulled a skirt on underneath it. Her makeup had worn off a bit and her hair was a bit frazzled, so she washed her face removing any residue that remained and quickly brushed out the rebellious strands. She rushed out to her car and started the engine.

  She drove to Michael's house nervously tapping her hands on the steering wheel and bouncing her left leg vigorously. Another sad love song played, making her more anxious. Flipping off the radio, she rode in silence and prayed that she had not made an irreversible mistake.

  The lights were still on at Michael's house when she arrived. She ran up the stairs to the front door and burst through. “Michael?” she screamed. “Michael?”

  She leaped up the stairs and stepped out from the hallway to the top of the staircase. Their bodies hovered one inch away from another, and she struggled not to fall into him. She looked up at him, and he looked back down at her. She felt tears rising to her eyes.

  “You can't hurt me again. I don't think I'd survive,” she said.

  “Caitlyn, I will never not choose you again. I will not hurt you. I love you.”

  “I love you, too.” They leaned in toward one another and kissed hard. All the magic that she had been looking for was there in that kiss and for several moments they just clutched one another tightly.

  He pulled away from her. She noticed that his eyes were red from crying, too. Michael held her face in his hands, “Je t'aime, mon ange.”

  EPILOGUE

  “It’s so small. I don’t think that it will work.”

  Michael pushed Cat Murphy’s wheelchair further into Caitlyn’s cottage while she looked around with squinted eyes that Caitlyn knew were looking for something to criticize.

  “It’s better, Mom. You’ll be closer to us, and I can visit more often and get you the things you need. I can work on rebuilding the coffee shop. Plus Charlotte will be here with you all day in case something happens. Most importantly, there are no stairs.” Caitlyn had been giving the same spiel for the last week.

  For the first few months of Cat’s recovery, Caitlyn had been the dutiful daughter who waited on her mother hand and foot, and she knew that if she stayed in her mother’s house with her much longer, she would go insane.

  Michael had come up with the idea: Caitlyn would live with him, and Cat would take over Caitlyn’s cottage with a caregiver during the day. Though he played off as for Caitlyn’s sake, she knew that he wished she was closer and that they could see each other more often. It was hard for them to be intimate with a 60-year-old woman constantly making demands on them.

  Michael smiled at Caitlyn and then said to Cat, “Plus, if you need a doctor, I’m a lot closer.”

  “Well, we can try it out, but I don’t know how long it’s going to last.”

  Caitlyn sighed. Her mother was finicky, but Caitlyn might be the one that killed the idea before it was every really executed.

  “I’ll be right back.” She might as well find out now, so they could bring her mother straight back to Worcester if they had to. There was no point in her living in Maple Field if Michael kicked her out.

  Caitlyn went to the bathroom and dug into her big purse to find the pregnancy test she purchased a couple hours earlier. She was only a little late—two weeks—and her breasts ached a little, but that was probably just PMS. Of course she was never late, and she never had that symptom of PMS, so she had to at least check.

  She carefully placed the plastic stick on the back of the toilet and looked at her watch before moving away. She couldn’t look at it during the two minutes, it was too stressful. She’d rather wait and have a definite answer.

  She had barely finished moving her stuff into Michael's house when she realized that she could be pregnant. If she was, it would significantly change the dynamic of their relationship. She cursed herself for moving too quickly, for not being more careful, and strangely, she feared his reaction.

  Anxious, Caitlyn sat on the edge of the bath tub. Her leg bounced erratically as she looked at her watch hoping the final thirty seconds would at least seem quicker than the last minute and a half. Filling her lungs with a deep, calming breath, she moved to the sink, washed her hands, and splashed water on her face before looking at the test.

  “Pregnant.”

  “Okay, then. Okay. It’s going to be alright.” She took another deep breath and left the bathroom with the stick in her hand.

  Michael met her in the bedroom and said, “You have to come see this. Your mom turned on the TV. Margaret pled out. She’s going to prison for ten years.”

  Caitlyn walked over to him, wrapped her arms around his waist, and squeezed him tightly. He kissed her on the top of the head. “What wrong, amour de ma vie? Why do you look sad? I thought this would make you at least a little happy.”

  Caitlyn swallowed the tears that were threatening to break through. “I’m not sad. It’s just… well, something unexpected has happened.” She could not look at him. He was going to think that she was another Margaret, trying to trap him.

  “Whatever it is we can handle it. Right?” She nodded. “So out with it,” he said.

  She bit her lip and then let it run out of her mouth rapidly. “You're going to be a father.”

  Michael quickly pulled away from her and looked into Caitlyn's eyes. “I am?”

  “You are, and just so we are clear, I am going to be a mother.”

  “You are? Are you sure?” He loo
ked at her with intensity.

  Caitlyn hesitated for a moment, gripping the test tightly in her hand; she still wasn't sure how this was going. “I am. Do you want proof?”

  His mouth began to turn upward. He gently squeezed her. “Why would I need proof from you? I trust you. This is amazing.”

  Caitlyn tossed the pregnancy test in the trash can beside the bed and then pulled herself against him, rose on her toes, and kissed him. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “Can I still open the coffee shop?”

  Michael smiled. “If that’s what you want to do. I’ll even call that reporter again and have him do another story.

  “I knew it!” She gave him a little shove, but he held on to her tightly and didn’t move far.

  “But I think it should wait until after the wedding.”

  Caitlyn looked up at him, her eyebrows scrunched in, “What wedding?”

  Michael dug into his pocket and pulled out a ring box. “Ours.”

  Caitlyn heart threatened to pound out of her chest.

  “I was going to wait until later, but,” he opened the box.

  Caitlyn quickly nodded and said, “Yes.”

  “I didn’t ask you anything yet.” Michael smiled. “But I’m going to hold you to that answer.”

  Caitlyn wrapped her arms around Michael’s neck. “You’d better.”

  The End