My problem sometimes was that I was too honest for my own good. I held her face between my hands. We were in the cafeteria at lunchtime, with people gaping around us. I didn’t care.
“Caleb, we are in the cafe—”
“I don’t care about them. They’re not important. No one has ever been important to me. Until you.”
She was breathing hard, like she’d just run a marathon.
“Do you trust me?” I asked.
She looked hesitant, but nodded eventually.
“All right, then. Let’s get the hell away from here. We have time before your shift starts.”
I grasped her waist as I rose, sliding her to standing. I grabbed her backpack and slung it over my shoulder, then reached for her hand.
“Pancakes,” I said, but she didn’t reply.
“Pancakes,” I repeated, waiting for her to acknowledge me.
She looked up with those expressive, lovely eyes. “Pancakes,” she replied.
* * *
Veronica
Caleb drove us to the beach again. This seemed to be his go-to place if he was feeling intense emotions. That was fine. I liked the beach, especially when he was with me.
He held my hand again as we drove there. It felt good. It also made me uncomfortable because I knew it was becoming a habit, and I didn’t know how to stop it—or if I wanted to.
The sun was sprawled in the clear blue sky, but there were only a few people at the beach sunbathing. I could taste the
water in the air, the humidity enveloping me. With Caleb holding my hand and his green eyes looking into mine, I felt like I was in a different universe. Somewhere no problems existed. Somewhere hope and happiness lived.
He spread a blanket on the sand and pulled me down with him. He was lying on his side facing me while I was on my back. He draped his arm over my waist, pulling me closer to him. The beach seemed to have a mellowing effect on me because I let him hold me without any protest. Or maybe Caleb was growing on me.
“What’s wrong, Red?”
I realized I had been staring at the sky, lost in my thoughts.
“Will you tell me what you’re thinking?” His fingers reached for mine again, intertwining. Caleb had a fascination with lacing our fingers together. I liked it a lot too. Sometimes when I hadn’t seen him in a while, my hand tingled, as if missing his.
Missing something was the last thing I wanted. I didn’t want to yearn for anything. Yearning meant heartbreak. Every time I felt myself responding to Caleb, I stopped myself. But his strong presence and his constant caring were breaking down my defenses.
I constantly pushed him away, but he kept coming back. I knew he wanted to know why I was so afraid, why I kept myself at a distance.
I could feel his eyes on me and his silent plea that I open up to him. When I turned to look at him, something in his eyes had my heart skipping a beat. “Caleb…”
He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. I saw the understanding in his eyes, the patience. And I knew even if I didn’t say anything in this moment, he would be okay with that. And that somehow made it impossible for me to keep holding back.
“It’s hard for me to talk about it,” I started. “I need to…” I sat up, feeling the need to put some space between us. I was going to give this part of myself to him, expose my weakness to him willingly, and I needed some distance. Some sort of protection. I wrapped my arms around my middle. He sat up beside me, silent, waiting.
“My dad was the only man I loved, and the only person to break my heart. I remember times when he was so attentive, so loving, but then he would change drastically. In the blink of an eye, he’d be a different person.
“He made me feel…unworthy. Always reminded me that I didn’t deserve to be loved, that it was my fault his relationship with my mom fell apart. It made me feel…guilty.
“He blamed me for every bad thing that happened to him. Over and over again. I-I can still hear his voice sometimes. I usually block it, but sometimes…sometimes I feel like he’s right.” I shook my head, erasing the memories forcing their way into my head.
“No, Red. He couldn’t have been more wrong.”