47
Calhoun
Year Four - Seven Years Ago from Present Day
“Where’s Libby?” Iris asks the minute I toss my phone onto the kitchen counter. She and Sam decided to stay over as a surprise for Libby since we’d been gone for so long. Sam takes a long pull of the beer that was one of the few edible items in our fridge.
I guess I understand why now. “She won’t be back until tomorrow. She’s wrapping up a client dinner in Atlanta.” Snagging my beer, I take a drink. “I guess we’re on our own another night.”
Sam frowns. “Did she not get the message…”
“Apparently, Libby’s so accustomed to Rebecca calling her with news that our trips have been extended that she didn’t bother to check.” I flick the cap of the beer into the sink, uncaring if it scratches the stainless steel.
Iris gives Sam a concerned look before she slides off the barstool and wraps an arm around my waist. I loop mine over her shoulder. “Listen, Cal, she’s not entirely wrong.”
I pull away, our arms falling in between us, fingers brushing. “I don’t want to hear this.”
“That’s the problem—you don’t!” she throws back hotly. “You’re pissed your wife isn’t here, but what was she supposed to do? Walk off her own job?”
I open and close my mouth a few times because anything I say at this moment would come out sounding like an asshole. Iris gets back in my space and pokes me in the chest. “You’re gone as much as you’re here, Cal. You have to expect her to fill her life while you’re gone.”
Sam scoffs. “It could be worse. Instead of building an empire, she could have left your sorry ass like Pete’s wife did. I mean, look at what he came home to after our last trip.”
“That’s not funny.” My heart begins tripping in my chest at the very idea of Libby sliding out of my life because of the job. “I’d sooner give up Alliance than I would my wife.”
It’s Iris’s turn to laugh. “You say that, yet your every action says otherwise, Cal.” Finishing her drink, she puts the empty bottle into the sink. “Let’s go home to Rachel, Sam. I spend enough time with Cal as it is. If Libby’s not here, there’s no reason to stay.”
Iris’s words strike me hard in the chest. She’s right. Without Libby around, there’s no happiness. So, what reason is there to stay? Putting my beer on the counter, I walk them to the back door. “Good trip, guys.” Even to my own ears, my words sound lackluster.
“Yeah, buddy. It was.” Sam slaps me on the back.
Iris squeezes my arm as she passes in front of me. “She’ll be home tomorrow, you said?”
I nod, my throat too tight to speak.
“Then maybe we’ll drop by then.” Iris bounds down the steps.
“Call first,” I yell after her.
She waves at me as she walks to the car. I stand at the door and wait while she and Sam pull out until I can no longer see their headlights down our street.
Closing the door, I snag my beer and move into the living room. Dropping down onto the sofa, I say to the framed picture of Libby and me taken on our wedding day, “Is it really the effects of the job causing these problems? Or is it that I was never meant to have you in my life? I don’t know if you know it, honey, but it’s thoughts of your smile that keeps the darkness at bay on the days I’m not with you. It’s the only way I can keep doing the job.” I reach over and plop my beer on the table next to me.
Tipping my head back, I only intend on closing my eyes for just a moment. This last trip was a bitch. What we found once we rescued the computer mogul’s niece was beyond words. There were piles of bodies in that pit…I shudder as the images flash into my mind. Pulling Libby’s favorite throw off the back of the couch, I wrap myself in the scent of her instead of the lye. “Never should have happened,” I mumble as sleep threatens. “Right under their noses.”
But instead of Libby’s sweet arms to hold the nightmares of the first night at bay, I’m assaulted by the memories of the girl chained up. Then my heart trips in my sleep as I recall being given authorization to go in and get her once we provided the intel that assured us all she wouldn’t be set free. Then the issuance of the secondary mission of leading the joint task force back to the camp to begin to identify the decomposing bodies. “Nooo,” I groan.
“Shh. It’s just a nightmare, Cal,” Libby’s honeyed voice whispers. Her delicate hand runs over my unruly hair. I jerk up, almost slamming my head into hers. A quick scan around the room shows me the bleakness of the dark outside.
“It’s not morning,” I accuse. I press the heels of my hands against my eyes as I try to force my heartbeat to some semblance of normal.
“I couldn’t leave things the way they were after we talked,” Libby admits quietly. “When I was done with my business dinner, I went back to my hotel, packed, and checked out. I just got home.”
“What time is it?” I manage to croak out.
“A little after one. Come on, we’ll deal with it the morning. Let’s get you to bed.” She shifts away in preparation to stand, but I don’t let her. Instead, I tumble her down on top of me. Rolling her so she’s braced against the back of the couch, I search her face. She looks exhausted—as if she hasn’t slept well in weeks. And suddenly, I’m humbled and ashamed. “I’m sorry.” The words are out of my mouth before I realize they were on my lips. “I was a jackass,” I admit.
Libby rubs her hand over the scruff on my cheek. “I have to do something to distract myself or go mad.”
“I get it.” And I really do. This is why I’ve never told her the extent of what we do; I don’t want her worrying while I’m gone.
“Okay.” There’s a long pause where we do nothing but take a moment to learn each other after so much time away. It seems like we have to do that a lot because the other person keeps changing and becomes just a touch more unfamiliar each time I come home.
Or maybe it’s just me who thinks that? I shake my head. Rolling away from Libby, I push to my feet. Offering my hands down to my beautiful wife, I pull her up into my arms and into a hug—one I desperately need to reassure myself that the flash of pain I glimpsed on her face when I held her was only temporary.
48
Present Day
Elizabeth
“So, Cal began to resent your job?” Dr. Powell asks incredulously.
“It seems impossible, doesn’t it? But as Deja Vu became more and more successful, it seemed like I was arguing more and more about not being at home. Expansion meant more business, and more business meant more trips.” I shrug.
“As you turned thirty, you were on top of your professional game. Tell me about it.”
“I worked hard in the seven years since I started my business. I had a staff of eight full-time designers by that point, was turning over two million dollars of profit, and was featured in local magazines as well as a few national ones. Deja Vu was absorbing the energy my husband wasn’t around to receive.”
“Nor did you have a child to direct it to either,” Dr. Powell concedes.
“Exactly. But it turned out to be a good thing for Deja Vu. Being a business owner takes focus. Elon Musk once said being an entrepreneur is like staring into the abyss of death.” I shake my head. “I have a greater appreciation for that, and yet it still holds true. You don’t own your own business without being willing to give it everything.”
“And you did?”
“Where else was I supposed to direct my feelings?” I ask with a shrug.
“To your family some would say,” Dr. Powell challenges me.
I pause before responding, knowing my words hold significant impact. “We all get tired of trying to fight a battle where there appears to be no recourse. In my case, I was fighting against broken promises. When Cal bought into Alliance, he swore he’d make more time for us. That was long past. At what point was I supposed to stop waiting and start living? Because before long, I feared there wasn’t going to be much left for me to hold on to.”
“What do you mean?” Dr. Powell
probes.
“I feel needy when I talk about this.” I shake my head.
“People who are in a loving, committed relationship should have certain expectations.”
“Fair enough. Cal had to go out of the country before my thirtieth birthday,” I begin.
49
Calhoun
Year Five - Six Years Ago from Present Day
“You’re packing again?” Libby walks into our bedroom just as I’m zipping the top of my black travel duffle.
“Yes. I just got a call from Sam a few moments ago. Something’s come up with one of our clients in Europe.” I hasten to add, “It should only take a few days. We’ll all be back in time for your birthday.”
I cringe on the inside as Libby shrugs. “If you can’t make it, just have Rebecca send me a message so I can cancel the reservation.” God, I really don’t want to miss this; it’s Libby’s thirtieth birthday. We’re all supposed to go out for a night on the town to celebrate, the same way we did for Iris’s.
“We’ll be back, Libby,” I say firmly.
“All right.” Her voice is understanding even as it’s bracing for defeat.
I don’t want her to prepare for anything. I want to be with my wife. “Only a few days, Libs.”
“Cal, it’s your job. I’ve lived it for how many years? Just let me know.” Turning, she slips out of the doorway, and I want to call her back. I want to make her understand if it wasn’t for the most dire of needs, I wouldn’t leave her side. But the boy in me who was left alone to grow up on my own can’t bear to imagine a child out there crying for parents who want their children back.
Grabbing my bag, I heft it from the bed. Making my way down the stairs, I stop by Libby’s office where she’s focused on something on her screen.
I wonder what it is. I didn’t used to have to; I used to know exactly what clients she had, what she was doing, who she worked with. Now, in so many ways, my wife is a beautiful stranger I’m dying to get to know again.
“All set?” Is her voice overly bright, or is that my imagination?
“Yeah. I have just a few minutes before Sam arrives to pick me up.”
Libby stands up and comes around her desk. Smoothing her hands over the lapels of my topcoat, she tips her head back. “Safe travels. Call me when you’re able to. I’ll let Rebecca know of any changes in my schedule.” She brushes a soft kiss against my cheek before starting to slide out of my arms.
And I realize if I let her go, I’ll be letting everything go. I tighten my embrace. “Libs?”
Her body naturally conforms to mine. “Yes?”
“You know how much I love you, right?”
I hear a tiny sigh escape her lips before she nods. “Of course.” Even though it’s a Saturday, Libby’s in heels. I frown. Come to think of it, she’s fully dressed for work.
“I didn’t know you were heading in today?” Why does my voice sound so accusatory? After all, I’m the one who’s about to leave for an indeterminate amount of time.
Libby just shrugs. “I got a call late yesterday to meet with a client for about an hour. Since it’s a new line of business, I agreed to meet with them.”
“What kind of…” My question is interrupted by the tooting of Sam’s horn outside. I give her a crooked smile. “We’ll finish this up when I call later.”
Her lips hitch. “Right. I’m sure we will.” Just when I’m about to ask her what that means, Sam honks for a second time. I turn my head to begin cursing at the window when Libby’s fingers slide over my jaw, bringing it forward again. She rises on the balls of her feet. Brushing her lips against mine once, twice, I don’t have to be invited a third time to deepen the kiss.
Unfortunately, as Sam lays on the horn, I have to tear my mouth away just as it was getting interesting. “I’m going to kill him,” I announce.
Libby’s smile thaws, which is what I need right now. “Just travel safely, okay?”
Giving her a final kiss, I make my way out of her office and throw open the front door. Holding up a finger to ask Sam for one more minute, I wrap my arm around Libby, who trailed me there. “Consider this an early gift for the birthday girl,” I say, before I crush my mouth down on hers.
Long moments later, I lift my head. “You light up my world, Libby.”
Her countenance softens. “Cal…”
“I’ll be back to celebrate with you in just a few short days. I love you.”
“I love you too.” And my last image of my wife smiling for quite a while is her leaning against the door as I jump in the car so Sam can get the three of us to the airfield to make our transport to Finland to be briefed before we head to find our target in the Ural Mountains.
* * *
Five days later, I’m calling home to wish my wife a happy birthday on a secure SAT phone because I didn’t make it back. My mind isn’t surprised when she doesn’t answer.
My heart is devastated.
I disconnect, hold the phone to my chest, and whisper, “What’s happening to us?” before stepping back inside the tent I’m sharing with Sam and Iris so we can get close enough to the camp where the twin children of the United States ambassador of Sweden are being held for ransom.
I haven’t completed the mission, have my boss up my ass, and I broke another promise to Libby.
What’s happening to my life?
50
Elizabeth
Year Five - Six Years Ago from Present Day
His dark hair is hanging over his ears since he didn’t have a chance to get a trim before we left for dinner.
At thirty-six, Cal’s more devastating to look at than when I first met him. I could sit for hours and study the candlelight highlights the lean planes of his features. Absentmindedly, I reach for my wineglass on my right. Swirling it around, I listen to Cal finish ordering the extravagant dinner he thinks I need.
What I need is to scream in agony over the overwhelming politeness that’s beginning to exist in my marriage. When did I lose my lover and gain a roommate? I think hatefully. With a flick of my wrist, the red wine I ordered is sent swirling.
“I don’t remember you drinking red,” Cal remarks.
There’s a lot you’d notice if you were home to see it. Instead of lashing out when Cal’s trying, I simply answer, “On one of my trips to Atlanta, a client suggested this.”
“Business seems to be going well.” He lifts his own glass and takes a drink.
What, are we on our first date? The urge to throw back a scathing reply is on the tip of my tongue. Until the candlelight catches my wedding rings, sending a twinkle in my eye. I let it go. “It is. There’s a possibility of being featured in a few magazines.” I shrug it off as if the news is nothing major even though when the news came in, I sobbed because I wanted to share it with my husband.
But he was away. Again.
“That’s incredible, Libs.” He lifts his glass. I click mine against it. “We have more than just your birthday to celebrate tonight.”
“I suppose so.”
Cal pushes back from his chair. Coming around the table, he slips his fingers into his pocket of his suit jacket. Pulling out a solitaire choke chain, he clasps it around my neck before brushing his lips against the back of it.
Shivers I can’t control race through my body. “Cal, there was no need. All I want is you.” It’s the God’s honest truth. I just want to find that spark that’s been missing from my marriage.
“You have me, honey. I will always be yours. I just thought you deserved this. The way it lights up reminded me of you.” Another kiss to the curve of my shoulder, which I lean into.
“Thank you,” I tell him sincerely. And I mean it. I truly do. No matter what ripples our marriage might have to endure, this is the man I love.
My fingers play with the unfamiliar weight as he makes his way back to his seat. Gone is the solicitous husband; in his place is the sexy man I’ve never been able to resist. “I can’t wait to see you wearing just that later.”
/> And I can’t help but tease him, “If you’re lucky.”
He winks just as our appetizers arrive.
* * *
Later that night, Cal is sleeping next to me after thoroughly making love to me. True to his promise, I’m left wearing nothing but the gift he gave me as a belated birthday present.
I don’t know what makes me do it. Grabbing my cell phone, I pull up our joint credit card account. I just want to be wrong. Please.
But my stomach pitches when I see the purchase from earlier today. It’s to the infamous jeweler whose distinctive blue box Cal left in our closet so he could appear romantic when he slipped the choker around my neck.
He didn’t even get my gift until today. All this talk before he left was just that—talk. He had no plans. All of this was just an afterthought, just like I am.
Closing my phone and setting it to the side, I carefully unhook the delicate chain and lay it on my end table before extracting myself from Cal’s embrace and settling down onto my side of the bed the way I normally do.
Curled up and alone.
51
Present Day
Elizabeth
Dr. Powell flips over another page of notes. “You’re telling your story with a different perspective now which is understandable. Put yourself in the you of when you first got married. Was Cal right that you couldn’t have handled the day-to-day details of what his job entailed?”
“Unequivocally, no,” I say flatly.
“That’s certain.”
“Trust is supposed to be absolute. It’s the cornerstone of a marriage. Secrets do nothing but erode it.” I press my hand into my mouth because the emotions grip me so hard. “I had so much to forgive…”
Ripple Effect Page 19
