Ten Thousand Points of Light

by Michelle Warren

  “Fine.”

  “Tools are in the hall closet.” He reclines back with a pleased smirk. I dig out the tools and retreat as fast as I can, before I’m sending the two on a damn Alaskan Cruise.

  By the time I knock on Cait’s door, I’ve dug myself a pretty substantial hole. It’s well worth it when she answers. The sunlight filters in behind her, illuminating her silhouette and making her look like a damn angel. My knees weaken.

  “Morning.” I beam, still astonished she’s here. How long will it take before it sinks in?

  “Come in.” She steps aside.

  “Which unit?”

  “Bedroom.” She points.

  “You’ve been busy.” I glance around.

  “Stayed up all night organizing. Can’t stand messes.”

  I remember. She reorganized my kitchen once and I about killed her, but it was a great argument, one that ended with sex on the kitchen counter. Twice.

  In her room, I drop to the floor to inspect the AC/heating unit combo. I’ve watched Gusterson fix these plenty of times, but now that I have to do it myself, well, I’m drawing a blank. Or it could be that Cait’s behind me, watching everything I do, making me a nervous wreck.

  I attempt confidence. I play with the digital controls and when it won’t kick on, I release the front panel and poke around inside.

  “This happen a lot?” She shuffles closer.

  “Old buildings require a lot of maintenance.”

  “Does it look fixable?”

  “Looks like I have to buy the part,” I say even though I have no clue. I’ll need to ask Gusterson what to do. Looks like I’ll be sending he and Miss Venti on a cruise after all.

  “Will you be home later?” I ask.

  “I’m hitting Ikea. I’ll be out for a few hours.”

  “Perfect. I mean, I’ll have it fixed before you return.” I lock on the cover, grab my tools and stand.

  “So, I’ll owe you two pizzas,” she says.

  “Yeah, I was thinking I could show you around next weekend? If Linden finds out I didn’t fulfill my tour guide duties this weekend, there will be hell to pay.”

  At her reaction to my offer, it becomes painfully obvious she has no intention of sightseeing with me, even if her new boss mandated it.

  “Another rain check?” She scrunches her face.

  “No problem.”

  Getting to know her won’t work if she’s resistant. Which I can see she is. And this is the blueprint for the next several months. Being near her is more painful than I expect. I do my best to engage, but no matter how many appliances I purposefully break in her apartment, and no matter how many times I fix them, and no matter how many times I joke like old times, she pushes me away. The harder I try, the more she vanishes into herself.

  I discover there is something very different about Cait now, as Shelby predicted. She’s not the woman I fell in love with. She’s not the person I pulled all-nighters with, watching TV marathons of Doogie Howser. She’s not the person who filled pinboards with photos of all the places we wanted to travel. She’s not the person who made fun of me for talking in my sleep. But most troubling, she’s not the person I loved.

  The light that used to shine behind her eyes burns dim, if at all. From what I’ve observed, she’s lifeless and living in the husk of a woman who meant something to me. When I pass her apartment, I often hear her crying. If she’s not home, I see her running. And if she’s not running, she’s at work. Linden says she pours herself into her job. She’s become one of the best agents he’s ever had—a confident bulldog at work but a complete wreck at home.

  I want to rip open the door, rush inside, and hold her and convince her everything will be okay, that I’m here for her and we can make it through anything together. I’d tell her she should be easier on herself. She doesn’t need to go through this alone, and I want to bear whatever she can’t. We’ll be stronger together. But these are all the things I should have whispered to her before. Instead, in the present, where everything’s wrong, I keep a measured distance.

  Like I do over and over again, I remind myself she wants to be anonymous here. She doesn’t want to know the old me, even if I’m desperate to know the new her.

  Eventually I see her with a friend—a kooky blonde who’s the complete opposite. Cait often seems annoyed with her. I think the blonde sees it too, but she’s determined to be her friend. I’m happy Cait has someone, even if that someone puked in my garden on St. Patrick’s Day.

  Over the years I imagined Cait having a life without me, recovering and moving on. But anyone could see she’s hanging by a diminishing thread. The proof is in every movement she makes: the insecurities, the envelopes from her family she throws away, her perfunctory responses to any questions, her loneliness and disconnection to the people around her and to me.

  Until one day her glacial personality melts. Just a little.

  CHAPTER 50

  It happens without warning. She’s doing things she did before. Things we did before. We’re having the same conversations, sharing the same jokes, and the same smiles. And not fake smiles. Real ones. Some of the things are subtle, other indications are blaring. Are her memories returning?

  When she called me SpongeBob, did she remember she gave me that nickname? When she asked me for a one-night stand, no strings, did she remember she asked me once before? When she flipped her sweater over her head and handed it to me, leaving herself half naked, did she remember she stood in our kitchen the last time she did the same thing before we were together for the first time? Does she remember where she got the band T-shirt she wears all the time?

  “Why are you here when Cait’s in your apartment, sleeping in your bed?” Linden yells.

  He steps out of his kitchen with a tumbler glass. He crosses the room to the fireplace and lifts a poker to move a log around the raging fire.

  “I don’t know.” I lean forward, elbows leveraged on knees and shake my head. I don’t know anything anymore. When she moved back, I told myself I would let her be and give her space. She wanted a new life. I told myself I could and should give her that. With all she’s been through, life owed her that little thing.

  But now? Something’s changed. It’s like some kind of fucking flame’s been lit in her mind. And that little flame is a flicker of the Cait I used to know. Could it one day roar like the fire before me?

  I cried like a baby the night she kissed me after she showered at my place. My insides burst with happiness when I suspected she might be remembering. Even after her wistful gazes, I didn’t dare to hope, but she continued repeating the life we shared together. Every single thing has rooted me right back into the world we used to share.

  “Go back to her, Evan. I’m kicking you out,” he says.

  I don’t move.

  Linden lifts the poker and points the tip at me. “If you’re not out of here in ten seconds, I’m calling the police.”

  I sigh and consider letting him do it. Being locked in jail might be the best way to keep me from her. It worked before. Why not now? He digs his cell out of pocket and shakes it.

  I groan and stand, then grab my coat and leave without another word. Soon, I’m back home and unlocking my front door.

  Despite the fact she’s been throwing herself at me, I shouldn’t be doing this. I know what will happen if she wakes and finds me here, but I can’t help it anymore. I’ve been waiting to be close to her for years. What if this is the one chance I have to be with her again and I don’t take it? Just like I didn’t the last day we were together?

  The lights pop on and she’s standing in the hallway in a tiny tank-and-shorts set, ready to bust me in the head with a baseball bat signed by the entire Cubs team. It’s the one she gave me on our second Christmas.

  “Evan! Jesus, you scared me.”

  “Sorry.” I raise my hands.

  She relaxes and sets the bat aside, looking relieved. “What are you doing here? I thought you were staying with a friend?”


  “I went to stay with Linden but he kicked me out.” I twist off my scarf, take off my jacket, and toss them on a chair.

  “Why? What the hell did you do?”

  “Let’s say he decided to entertain.” It’s a partial truth. Viv was on her way over when I arrived. No telling if they were planning a fight or sex—probably both.

  “He kicked you out for a booty call?” She laughs and my insides flip at the sight of her cheeks. A real smile.

  “Something like that. I texted you, but when you didn’t answer I thought I could sneak in and crash on the couch without waking you. Sorry. I can stay at a hotel.”

  Tell me leave. Tell me to get out of here.

  “No, of course not. I’ll go. It’s your place.” She picks up her bag and I react.

  “Stay.” I place a hand on her arm and a million chill bumps spread from our point of contact over her beautiful skin.

  “Um, okay.” She pauses, looks thoughtful, and continues. “Listen, I’ve been wrong to throw myself on you. It wasn’t fair. Obviously it’s not something I normally do. It’s not something I’ve ever done.”

  Inside, I want her to know the truth. You have done it before. You remember and you don’t even realize it. You’re coming back to me.

  “You seem to be pretty damn good at it,” I joke. I need to make her comfortable, assure her it’s okay.

  “Except for the part where I was denied—twice.” She laughs.

  “I didn’t. I mean, I did.” This is the part that’s hard. Explaining why I’ve made the choices I have. Since she returned, I tried to do right by her and give her a new beginning without allowing our past to interrupt.

  I continue, “Even though we do what we do,” I pause, “you don’t know anything about me. I have—a past.”

  We have one together.

  “I guess that’s the whole point of a hookup. We don’t need to know much about each other. One night we’re lovers, the next back to doing what we do.”

  At this I tell her what I’ve wanted to. I tell her the truth, even if it’s the tiniest sliver of the entire picture.

  “The truth is, Cait, I do want you. Very badly.”

  There’s a tension-filled pause. Her eyes are wide and locked to mine. “So take me,” she whispers.

  My heart silences. I’m frozen for a moment, and I do something I don’t want to. I decide right here we can be together for tonight. It can’t reach beyond this. What’s between us can never grow into more because I don’t want to lie to her further. If we shared a life together in the present, I could never keep her from the truth. And if she learned the truth, she would hate me.

  There are so many years between what we were and are now; I don’t want to break her heart. After tonight I’ll be that nobody she hooked up with once who lives in her building. She’ll never know more. After tonight she can move on like nothing’s happened. I can’t say I’ll do the same, but at least I’ll have the chance to say goodbye. This could be the closure I’ve needed, one last time to be near her, and know it’s finally over.

  “One night. That’s all it can be. The other thing I said was true. Even if I want more, I can’t. It’ll only be tonight.” I lay it all out. That’s my offer.

  “One night,” she agrees.

  I step forward to do the most selfish thing I’ve ever done. I lift my hand and trace a finger over her skin. She trembles beneath my touch. My hands, soft on her skin, rediscover all the sensitive spots I remember from before. I take my time. And when she tells me she’s sure, I close my lips over her skin, her mouth, and her body. My hands slide and find familiar ridges in her back. My breathing quickens as I take all of her, and I kiss her like someone who’s been given a second chance at life, a second chance to live.

  I make love to her.

  Even if she doesn’t remember me, her body does. She moves with me even without me beckoning. Her hips join with mine like a magnetic twin before I command it. Deep down, she knows how perfect we can be. It’s in every movement we make.

  I make our connection last, treating her like no time has passed. I want her to know how much she’s loved, how much she’s been loved and also missed. Over the course of the night, I want to share what I can of our three years’ worth of memories and force them into the size of each and every kiss, touch and shiver. I want the memories to pour out of me and into her in the form of love. They’re forever seared into my mind, and I want to believe they’re still hidden in hers too. After she leaves here tonight, I want her to have a little bit of the old us in her future.

  I love you, Cait. I repeat the words in my mind. I wish to will them into her body and make her understand. I do it until she’s standing at my front door, and I kiss her for the very last time.

  CHAPTER 51

  Perfect timing. Lou. The friend Cait’s passing off as an ex-boyfriend. At first I asked if he was her boyfriend as a joke, but when she outright lied, I played along to see how far she would take it. It’s like she subconsciously knew it would kill me.

  The first time I saw them together, I had a heart attack. And when he kissed her on the cheek, I saw red. Thankfully, Linden got me up to speed. Lou’s not into chicks. That should be enough to settle my shit, but seeing her with any guy twists my heart. Maybe I’m jealous of any person who is lucky enough to orbit her world, or maybe he represents what I’ll never be.

  At the sight of him, I slam the door and head straight for my bedroom. I drag a duffle bag from the closet and toss it on the bed. It’s not long before I’m packed and shuffling outside. Shelby will be pissed when she finds out, but I need to get the fuck out of town.

  I call Linden to tell him to meet me. My taxi stops at Grayson & Wade’s building. Linden’s already waiting at the curb, wearing a perturbed expression. I roll down the cab’s window.

  “So it went well, huh?” He leans in, peering inside.

  “Give me the damn keys.”

  “Try not to get too fucked up.” He tosses them in my lap and steps back like I’m about to explode.

  “Go,” I tell the driver. Linden shakes his head, watching us drive away. Meddling motherfucker.

  By afternoon, I’m releasing my duffle from my grip. It drops to the floor of Linden and Viv’s apartment in New York City. I head straight for the bar, select a bottle of Jack, and plant my ass on the sofa. With my teeth, I twist off the top and spit it across the room. After a long swig, I open a video of Cait on my phone, select the repeat button, and prop it against a leather box sitting on the coffee table.

  As I watch us on vacation on the beach in Miami, I tell myself it’s over. We’re done. If I pretend we broke up, maybe I can survive this like any other relationship. People do this all the time. Why should I be any different? For the first time in years, I let myself mourn that she’s out of my life. Something I never allowed myself before now.

  I give in to the sorrow and break down. I spent so many years hating myself for making the wrong decisions, and now I can be done with her and us. The more I drink, the easier the idea of moving on becomes. I drink until I fall on my side and the video’s unreadable behind my blurring vision. The empty bottle slips from my grasp to the floor. I relent to the darkness that’s been eating away at me for years.

  After several days of binging to forget us, I wake to the phone ringing. I moan. The annoying sound radiates between my ears, rattling my brain. The taste of vomit sours my tongue. I sit upright and pinch my aching forehead. Mercifully, the ringing stops.

  But now I’m awake and remembering what happened. If I didn’t hate myself enough before, I do now. God, I’m a fucking asshole. Why couldn’t I have stayed away from her?

  The phone rings again.

  “Motherfuck.” I reach for the cell to decline the call but accidentally press the accept button instead. A whiny little mouse voice bitches me out at a mile a minute on the other end. Shelby. I turn on the speaker, allowing the full force of her rage to fill the room. My face plants back into a pillow. Horizontal is better th
an vertical.

  “And how dare you leave me in the lurch again! I’ve got a mind to kick your skinny ass to the curb. I can’t work like this, you lovesick, dumb-shit, crooked-dick, no-good, cactus-ass, classless sack of pussy juice. You don’t deserve a best friend like me. You deserve no friends.”

  “Cactus ass?” I slur with my cheek pressed into a pillow. My lips twitch in search of a smile. Gotta love this girl.

  “I’m one hundred percent confident in my assessment. Shall I continue?”

  “Only if you want me to hang up.”

  “Where are you?” she asks, her anger cooling a bit.

  “Far away from your cactus-ass-kicking foot.”

  She hrumffs. “When are you coming back?”

  “What’s the answer you want?”

  “Evan!” Her anger’s back.

  “This is your fault,” I remind.

  “My fault.” I can see her expression in my mind. Her head cranked and eyes warning me to watch myself.

  “You told me not to tell her.”

  “Did you?”

  “No.”

  “So what’s the problem?”

  “I want to.”

  And that’s the root of everything that’s gone wrong. It has been since the day she left. I’ve wanted to tell her but Linden talked me out of it for her sake. Her parents stopped me for their hate, and eventually I stopped myself because it was too late. What I’m starting to understand is that not even allowing myself one night to say goodbye will extinguish my love for her. I’m magically not going to give a shit. If I were, it would have already happened.

  “So tell her. Be done with it. Whatever happens, happens. At least you’ll know she knows. You deserve some peace too. It’s not only about her.” She pauses. “It’s not like you haven’t suffered too. I never understood all your crazy quirks until you explained, but now I do.”

  She continues, “How many times have you jumped out of your skin because of a loud noise? You thought they were gunshots. How many times have we gone to a restaurant and insisted on having your back against the wall? How may times have you scanned the hands of the people around you. You were looking for a guns. In your dreams, how many times have you seen your best friend die in your arms? You need closure, Evan. And after you get it, maybe you can be whatever the hell normal is for you.”