by Claire Raye
Sienna rarely mentioned her father besides talking about how useless he was, but it was obvious the relationship he had with his kids was non-existent. Since Caleb’s arrival, he hasn’t said much either. Even though their relationship was strained, the loss of a parent is hard. Caleb has more than just his PTSD he’s dealing with.
“What do you remember about your parents?” I ask, wondering if he’ll even share.
He doesn’t respond right away, picking at some loose skin around his fingernails as he looks around. The answer to my question isn’t as simple as it would be for me and I give him the space to think, hoping he’s able to find the words.
“Honestly, Ruby, this isn’t really something I want to talk about. It’s the reason I will probably never have kids of my own because how can I possibly know how to be a parent when I didn’t even have parents?”
Obviously he doesn’t want to talk about it. I’m not sure that even needed to be said out loud. He’d rather let everything live inside him and turn sour than share it. He’s kept this shield in place for so long he finds comfort in not talking about his childhood or what he feels his future looks like because of it.
“I know you don’t want to talk about it. No one wants to talk about the bad shit that’s happened to them, but how else are you going to move past this?”
He lets out a long sigh, blowing out a hard breath as he shakes his head at my comment. I can tell he’s growing annoyed with me, but I’m over caring at this point.
“If you don’t want to talk about your parents then tell me what your future looked like before all this happened. Before your dad died, before you lost the bar, before the beating.” The last part comes out with some hesitation. None of us refer to it as anything specific, never mentioning Reid’s dad or the assault. We don’t call it an assault, we don’t call it what it is for some reason. Like saying it out loud makes it more real.
This question is another one he isn’t interested in answering. It delves too deep, it cuts to the core of all of this and calls out what I know are his biggest insecurities. He doesn’t want to talk about what his life was supposed to be or what it could still be, because he doesn’t think he deserves any of it. He doesn’t get to dream or think about the future. He doesn’t get to have a functional relationship, but this is where talking about it will help. He’s built this wall around himself, acting like he doesn’t care, acting like he isn’t affected by any of this, but I know he’s dying inside.
“You know what my future looked like before…” He stalls out. Again we avoid calling it what it is.
Trauma.
“I wanted to take over the bar and bring it back to what my grandfather built, but it all failed. I failed,” he now says, biting out each word as he finally admits what he believes to be true.
“Fuck, finally!” I shout, slamming my fist into the water, letting up a spray that causes Caleb to turn away.
“What the fuck, Ruby?”
“You failed. You’re right, but that doesn’t have to be the end of it. Not everything happened because the bar failed. You didn’t get assaulted because the bar failed. Your dad didn’t die because the bar failed. You had no control over any of this, so you need to stop letting it control you.” My words are louder than necessary and even though I’m not his therapist or a doctor or anything but his girlfriend, someone needs to say it.
“What the fuck am I supposed to do, huh? Go out and buy a new bar? Start the fuck over? Does anyone really start over?” he asks, the rhetorical aspect of his question now settling between us.
“Yes, people do. They move on—”
Caleb cuts me off, letting out a humorless laugh. “Move on? You act like shit like this just fucking disappears because I moved away or I slept well one night. Fuck, Ruby, it doesn’t.”
These are the conversations he hopes push me away. He argues and fights back and gets defensive because he wants me to give up, but I won’t. Inside of Caleb is someone amazing and wonderful, and I saw him and I fell in love with him. Right now he’s not that person and that’s okay. He will get there again.
“You never even let me finish. I get that shit sucks so fucking bad. You were dealt an incredibly shitty hand and it feels like it just keeps getting worse. But how can you move on if you won’t even consider making some changes?”
“What changes?” he asks, pursing his lips and hitting me with an extremely pissed off glare. I love it though. I love that he’s being real and he’s angry and he’s talking. “Like starting a new relationship? Because I’m doing that and it’s going just great. Getting berated by my girlfriend is really fun.” The sarcasm drips from every word and it’s hard not to smirk at him when I realize he has no idea what’s happening here.
“You think I’m berating you? You think that’s what this is?”
“Sure the fuck feels like it.”
He starts to reach for his towel, climbing out of the hot tub as if he can’t stand to be around me. This is what he does when shit gets too real and things have gotten real.
“You don’t get to walk away from me because you don’t want to talk about this. Sit your ass back down!” I demand, standing up and reaching for him. “You’re finally talking to me. That’s what this is. I get that you’re angry. I get that you’re uncomfortable, but that’s when change finally starts to happen. You can’t live in this bubble forever, Caleb.”
My hand is wrapped around his wrist as we both stand in the hot tub staring at each other. He hasn’t pulled away which I take as a good thing. I take in a fortifying breath, my shoulders rising and falling with it as I wait for him to respond.
“Take a risk, damn it. Make a fucking change,” I add, my words quieter this time.
“A risk? Tried that. I beat the shit out of your professor and look where it got me.”
I step closer to him, resting my other hand on his bare chest. I can feel his heart racing under the weight of my hand, the stress now visible on his face.
“That wasn’t a risk. It was a decision controlled by fear, and while that fear came from a place of protecting me, it didn’t do anything for you.”
He shakes his head vehemently, looking away from me, but not moving away. I tighten my hold on his wrist, tugging him closer to me.
“Look at me,” I whisper, swallowing hard because if I start to cry this is all over.
“I can’t do this, Ruby. Not now.”
“Not ever,” I say, knowing that’s what he really means. “We’re doing this because otherwise everything that has happened in your life means nothing.”
“Maybe it does all mean nothing.”
I have no idea how to pull him out of this. I wish I had all the answers. I wish I knew the right things to say, but I’m just as lost as he is. A few semesters of counseling courses and a couple of research papers don’t make me an expert.
“That’s not true. Because if that were true, we would mean nothing. What’s happening between us would mean nothing and I can’t live with that. What we have is real and intense and it came at a time when you needed it, when I needed it. We need each other and I’m not going to let you act like—”
“I’m sorry,” he says, cutting in and wrapping his arms around me. “I don’t want to do this with you. I hate that it turns into an argument and I hate that I want to blame you for it.”
He’s rational at times; so rational he knows when he’s being a dick, which is why I stay. It’s this side of him that gives me hope he’s making progress.
“I love you, Ruby. You’re the one thing in my life that feels right. When everything else is falling apart I know I have you and sometimes I feel like I’m ruining that.”
“You aren’t ruining anything, but I’d love it if you talked to me. And if you won’t talk to me about what’s happening, you have to open up to your therapist.”
“I want to tell you everything, but when I try to, I feel like…” Trailing off, he struggles to get the words out. “I feel like… Like when you asked about
my parents,” he starts and I sit back down, tugging his hand to join me, but instead of sitting next to him, I ease myself between his legs when he sits down.
“Talking about your parents is hard, I get that. Sie never wanted to talk about them either,” I say, hoping to encourage something out of him.
“It’s not just that it’s hard. I guess it’s more about the way I feel. I don’t want to be angry anymore, but that’s all I feel when I think about them. And after the anger subsides, I feel so fucking guilty.”
“I know you do and I can tell you not to feel guilty, but it doesn’t matter.”
I lean back into him, his arms slipping around my waist. Leaning down, he softly kisses my neck, the heat of his mouth mixing with the warmth of the tub.
“I don’t want to argue with you anymore. I don’t want to be in this cycle of arguing with you and then apologizing. We won’t last this way and it’s fucking dysfunctional.”
“It isn’t arguing and it isn’t dysfunctional. You’re getting help.”
“Speaking of, will you still come with me to my appointment? I think it will be easier for me to talk about it all with someone else there. Someone who can possibly explain all this shit that clouds my head to you.”
“Of course I’ll go with you.”
“I don’t want to lose you the way I’ve lost everyone and everything in my life,” Caleb suddenly says, his words so pure and so true, his admittance makes my heart ache with his loss. His grief is palpable and has been from the second we met and all I want for him is to realize how worthy he is of love.
I can say it a million times and I will continue to do so until he finally feels the weight of my words.
“I love you.”
Chapter Twenty
Caleb
The next day after breakfast, Ruby and I are on the way to my therapist’s office. It’s not my standard appointment time, but after everything that happened with the charges and the new civil suit, everyone seemed to think it was a smart idea that I go and see her.
I wasn’t so sure.
Just like I wasn’t sure bringing Ruby with me was a smart idea either.
This could really only go one of two ways in my eyes. Fucked or really fucked.
Because regardless of all the things Ruby had brought up, all the things she had forced me to talk about yesterday in the hot tub, things were far from being okay between us. We both knew what she was doing and we both knew what I was doing, which was being a total dick about things, but it still didn’t make any of this any easier to deal with. Or any easier to talk about.
I just hoped with Liz there as a buffer, that whatever I did say, didn’t scare Ruby. Or push her away.
“It’s going to be okay,” Ruby says, reaching for my hand, squeezing it as though she knows exactly what I’m thinking about right now.
I thread my fingers through hers, turning to look out the window, because I can’t bear for her to see the fear in my eyes, or the outright fucking terror that I know must be plastered all over my face. Why the fuck did I ever think I could do this? I’m such a selfish asshole and if I was anywhere near the decent person Ruby seems to think I am, I’d let her go. Let her go, so she could find someone better to love her, to give her everything she deserves to have.
I feel my hand being pulled and when I turn back, Ruby is lifting our joined hands to her mouth, gently pressing a kiss to my knuckles before she bares her teeth, biting down on one of them, her brow narrowed as she glances sideways at me.
A chuckle falls from my mouth as I pull my hand away, her fingers still intertwined with mine. She pouts in mock annoyance and I smirk as I move our joined hands between my thighs, laughing when her eyes light up.
Unable to resist, I lean across the console between us, burying my face against her neck. “I know what you’re trying to do.”
Ruby’s head tilts to the side, giving me better access. “I’m not trying to do anything.”
“Bullshit,” I breathe into her neck.
“What?” she asks.
“You’re trying to distract me.”
Ruby scoffs, her fingers, which are still laced with mine between my legs squeezing. “Is it working?”
“Maybe,” I murmur, kissing and biting her neck. “Yeah.”
“Well,” Ruby says, sitting up a little straighter. “Mission accomplished.”
I can’t fight the smile, gently biting her neck once more before pulling back. Ruby glances over at me, her smile wide as she navigates the car into the parking garage next to my therapist’s office. After she’s parked and switched off the engine, she turns fully in her seat to face me.
“You ready?”
“No,” I immediately reply, shaking my head as if to emphasize my point.
Ruby’s face softens as she reaches for my hand again. “Come on, you can do this.”
Her faith in me feels so fucking misguided it’s not funny, but I still can’t make myself let her go. It’s almost like she’s the anchor and the force I need. That she’s the one both grounding me and pushing me to do this, to make me a better person. Even as I know she’s my inspiration and reason for it too, all at the same time.
I don’t even want to think about how I’d do this without her, even if deep down there’s a constant reminder there, telling me that I’m actually kind of using Ruby here. Using her to make myself better. Which is not to say I wouldn’t be with her if I wasn’t going through this, I absolutely would be. She’s fucking amazing and beautiful and everything I’d ever want in a girlfriend.
But I also know that if none of this were happening, if I weren’t this big fucked up mess of shit, this relationship we now have would be completely different. Or maybe not exist at all.
“Caleb?”
I force a smile. “Yeah, let’s go,” I say, turning to get out of the car.
Liz greets us with a smile, barely batting an eye when I ask if Ruby can come in with me this time. Even though I haven’t been coming here long, it’s the first time I’ve ever brought anyone into a session with me, the first time I’ve even suggested it.
“So,” Liz says, taking a seat as she smiles at me. “How have things been?”
I glance at Ruby quickly before turning back to her, wondering how much she knows. “The, um, the charges got dropped.”
Liz’s eyes widen, telling me she had no clue. “Oh, well that’s fantastic,” she says, smiling at me.
I hold a hand up. “But I’m now being sued for two million dollars.”
Her mouth snaps shut as she looks at Ruby before turning her attention back to me. “Civil case?”
I nod.
She tilts her head, almost as though she expected this would happen. “And how do you feel about all of this?”
I let out a short laugh, shaking my head because of course this is what it always comes down to with her.
How do I feel?
How do I feel?
I feel fucking awful, fucked, shit, angry, pissed off, over it, done. Is that enough?
But I know these aren’t the answers she wants to hear. So instead I take a deep breath, sitting back in my chair as I say, “Obviously not being charged or whatever is a good thing,” I start. “But being sued isn’t exactly great.”
Liz smiles at me. “No, obviously,” she says, brows raised. “How have you been sleeping?”
I take a deep breath, letting it out on a long slow exhale. “Not great.”
Liz nods as she writes something on the notepad she always has on her knee. “Nightmares still?”
“Yep.”
“And you definitely don’t want to consider sleeping pills?”
“Nope.”
“Caleb,” comes Ruby’s soft whisper.
Both Liz and I turn to her and I see the surprised look on her face that quickly morphs into a blush when she realizes we are both looking at her.
“It might help you sleep,” she suggests, her words barely audible.
“I don’t want to take them,�
� I tell her. “I can’t. I won’t.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Liz says quickly, her words meant kindly as though she’s diffusing something before it has a chance to start. “They are only there as an option. Have you been trying—”
“Ruby was in my last nightmare,” I say, cutting off her question.
I hear the quick intake of breath in the chair next to me and as much as I want to turn to her, to apologize or try to convince her this is no big deal or whatever, I can’t. My eyes stay firmly locked on Liz as she sits in the chair across from me, a gentle smile on her face.
“I know you already know this,” she starts. “But dreams and nightmares are not actually literal.”
“I know.”
“They are simply a product of our subconscious trying to make sense of the warring thoughts and emotions that our brain is still trying to process. There is nothing true in what we dream in that the literal translation of what we see and hear means nothing. You know this, Caleb.”
“Yeah, I know,” I repeat, agitated. “But I’ve never dreamed of her before.”
Liz shuffles in her chair a little before asking, “And this is why she’s here today?”
I nod but say nothing.
“Okay,” she says, smiling at me as she turns to Ruby. “Caleb tells me you’re a psychology major?”
I glance at Ruby, see the surprised look on her face, the way her mouth drops open as she turns to me. I hear Liz chuckle, before she continues.
“He talks a lot about you,” she says. “He’s very lucky to have you. He knows this, too.”
Ruby’s eyes widen as she continues to look at me. I shrug, because it’s true, even if I don’t always act like it is.
“I think part of why he’s brought you today is because he wants to let you in. He just doesn’t know how.”
Ruby’s eyes are still on me and this time I nod, my head tilting ever so slightly as I swallow hard, afraid to admit how true Liz’s words are.
“So rather than talk about your dream and what it might or might not mean,” she continues, seemingly oblivious to the monumental shift that’s taking place between me and Ruby right now. “I’d like to suggest that after every session, Caleb tells you one thing about himself and his past.”
