The Secrets We Held

by Blair, E. K.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Nothing. Just checking the time.”

  “Sorry, I kept you waiting for so long.”

  “It’s okay,” I tell him, happy to have him next to me. “You should know that your mother practically forced me to bid on one of the auction items.”

  He chuckles. “I hope you bid high.” He then slips his arm around my waist. “Come on, let’s dance.”

  After I set my fluted glass on a random table, Caleb guides me over to the dance floor. With one hand holding mine and his other pressed against my lower back, he leads me as we move to the music.

  “Who taught you how to dance like this?”

  “My mother.”

  “I’m impressed.”

  He smiles down at me, and I swear it’s perfect. Tugging me in closer, I rest the side of my head against his cheek as we dance. He keeps a tight hold on me as the band drifts into another song.

  “You’re quiet,” I note, to which he responds, “I have a lot on my mind.”

  Drawing back, I look into his eyes, imploring him to tell me without my having to outright ask.

  “My father introduced me to a former colleague of his that now lives here.”

  “What did you two talk about?”

  The muscles around his shoulder tenses. “I’ll tell you another time—not tonight.”

  He’s polite in his refusal to tell me, but that doesn’t stop me from wondering what they were speaking about. As the evening moves forward, we eat a lovely dinner, listen to a few cancer survivors tell their stories and offer thanks to the charity, and cheer on the auction winners, of which I am not one.

  “Next time, bid higher,” Caleb teasingly whispers in my ear.

  When everything is said and done, and they have announced how much money the evening raised, a popular band takes the stage for an intimate concert. Soon after they start playing, Conrad and Rose say their goodbyes, and we follow suit.

  As Caleb is talking to the valet, I pull out my phone and text Trent back, this time on his cell phone, addressing his last message he sent.

  Me: Yes, I miss you too. But, lately, you haven’t been the easiest person to be around.

  “Let’s get back to Miami,” Caleb says when he gets into the car. “Did you have a good time?”

  “Yeah, it was fun,” I tell him as I reach down and unfasten the straps to my heels. “My feet are killing me.”

  My phone vibrates, and I read the incoming text.

  Trent: You’re not going to start bustin’ my nuts again, are you?

  “Who are you talking to?”

  “Oh, no one.” I brush off Caleb’s question as I send another message.

  Me: You scared of me?

  I place my phone face down on my lap and rest my head back. Through a deep yawn, I mutter, “I’m so tired. I had no idea it was going to last so long.” When he doesn’t say anything, I run my hand along his shoulder and sit up when I find it’s rock hard with tension. “Is everything okay?”

  He gives a curt nod, but before I can say anything else, my phone buzzes.

  “Seriously, who are you texting?”

  “No one.”

  He glares my way, and I hold my phone a little tighter.

  “You’re obviously texting someone. Just tell me who it is.”

  “Why are you getting so mad? I’m just texting a friend.”

  He shoots me another nasty look before he darts his hand out to snatch the phone away from me, but I’m too quick, and I pull it away before he can grab it.

  “Give me your phone,” he demands on a low, steady tone, raising the hairs on my neck.

  This isn’t the first time he’s spoken to me this way, and it makes me nervous. But what makes me even more nervous is what he’ll do when he finds out that I’m texting Trent.

  “I’m not giving you my phone.”

  His hands grip the steering wheel tighter as we drive south down I-95.

  “Give me the goddamn phone, Kate.”

  “No.”

  When his eyes glaze over in rage, fear rushes into me. His knuckles turn white, and at this point, I attempt to calm him down.

  “Baby, relax. I’m here with you.”

  “You’re not,” he barks. “You’re on your phone, giving someone else your attention, and your secrecy is pissing me off. I don’t understand you, Kate. Here I am, giving you a great night, but it isn’t enough, is it?”

  He’s being ridiculous.

  “Of course it is.”

  My phone buzzes again, and my heart triple beats when he jerks the steering wheel and pulls off onto the shoulder of the interstate before throwing the car in park. A stream of icy cold panic swims through my veins.

  “Give me that phone or else I’ll pry it out of your fucking fingers.”

  “Caleb, stop! You’re scaring me!”

  Thrusting his hand across the console, he grabs ahold of my wrist and twists, sending a biting pain up my forearm and down my fingers.

  “You’re hurting me!” I wail as I hiss against his unyielding force.

  “Give me the phone!”

  He uses his other hand to rip my fingers away, and when I try to wrench my wrist out of his vise grip, he twists it even harder. I screech out against the excruciating pain and then give up. He snatches the phone away, and I burst into tears, cradling my throbbing hand against my chest. I want to yell and scream at him, but it’ll only enrage him more, so I stare out the window and cry as he snoops through my phone. Everything inside me is pleading to get out of this car, but we’re sitting on the side of the interstate at eleven o’clock at night. I’m trapped here with him, heartbroken and silently bawling in agony.

  “Why the fuck are you telling Trent that you miss him? What the hell is going on between you two?”

  “Nothing,” I manage to blubber through my tears.

  “Don’t lie to me,” he says, but it sounds more like a threat.

  “I’m not lying. He’s just a friend.”

  “Bullshit!” he shouts, throwing the phone at me so hard it strikes my collarbone and tumbles to the floorboard, but I don’t dare reach for it. Instead, I stare at him in sheer horror.

  “I am not lying. Go ahead, look through the phone. See for yourself that I haven’t talked to him in months.”

  “Have you fucked him?”

  “What? God, no!”

  “Then why are you telling him you miss him.”

  “Because he’s a friend!” I blurt hysterically. “That’s all. Just a friend.”

  He huffs, fuming in anger as he stares out the windshield. Breathing heavily in and out of his nose, his hands shake and he grits out, “If he is just a friend, why lie to me about it?”

  I open my mouth but choke on every word that comes to me, too worried it’ll be the wrong one. Eventually, I go with the only surefire thing I can possibly offer to diffuse him. “If you don’t want me talking to him, just say the word, and I won’t.”

  His teeth grind, and slowly, he turns to me, but his eyes no longer hold fury—they’re sad. Almost lost. “You’re the only thing that matters to me.”

  His pupils are dilated, and as I look into them, I see a tenderness within him that his temper defies. We sit in silence for a while as cars fly by, but time allows my mind to drift away from him and focus on the pain in my hand that’s swelling up. The throbbing agony worsens when I bend my wrist and move my fingers to make sure he didn’t break or fracture anything.

  When I lift my head, I find his eyes fixed on my injured hand as I cradle it against my chest. “You hurt me.”

  “I’m so sorry.” His words come on a breath laced in remorse, and if I felt any hatred toward him, it’s masked by the compassion he’s able to evoke in me. Gently, he takes my hand and brings it toward him, his thumb running along my puffy wrist that’s beginning to unveil a bruise. “You have to know that I love you.”

  A tear rolls down my cheek. “Then why do you do this?” I ask, needing for him to clear this
cloud of confusion around us.

  “If I didn’t care about you, I wouldn’t get this upset.” He kisses my knuckles tenderly. “You think I like doing this to you?” His expression fills with pain. “It kills me to know I hurt you, but if I were a man who didn’t love you, I would just walk away because you wouldn’t be worth everything you put me through. But I’m here when anyone else would’ve given up on you.”

  When I see his eyes rim in tears, my heart softens.

  “I won’t ever give up on you, Kate,” he affirms, his voice cracking beneath the suffering I’m causing him.

  Guilt combusts inside me, making me question why I was even texting Trent, knowing it would upset Caleb. He has insecurities and issues that he’s made me well-aware of—Trent being one of them—yet, I continue to ignore them. I should be putting him first, but tonight, I pushed him aside and put the one guy he can’t stand in front of him. I had no business doing that when Caleb is the one I love, he’s the one sitting here now with tears running down his face because of the remorse he feels for hurting me because I hurt him.

  “I don’t think you understand how much I love you. How much I want to give you.”

  Running my fingers along his cheek, I wipe away his tears. “I feel the same way,” I tell him. “I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love you; you have to believe me.”

  “It’s hard to trust when I’ve been burned in the past.”

  “I know, and I’ll be better, I promise. But I’m not your past, Caleb.” I unfasten my seatbelt and lean in toward him. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. You don’t have anything to worry about. But I don’t like it when you get this angry and hurt me.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “It can’t happen again.”

  He takes my face in his hands, affirming, “It won’t. I promise.” He folds his arms around me and holds me against him. “I won’t ever hurt you again.”

  Even though he admits that his temper comes from a place of love, it doesn’t make it right, and I don’t want to have to face his violence again, but that doesn’t erase the guilt I feel, knowing it was all my fault that this even happened.

  “I’m so sorry I upset you,” I tell him, adding, “I won’t talk to Trent anymore.”

  He pulls back and rests his forehead against mine, and even though my wrist is still radiating in pain, it has nothing on the ache my heart is enduring. I only wish I could take back my behavior tonight so that none of this had to happen. All I can do is move forward and be better and love harder because it’s the least I can give him when he’s already given me so much.

  KATE

  Sitting out on my balcony, I kick my feet up onto the railing and soak in the heat of the sun, thankful for the decline in humidity.

  “I used to be obsessed with pigs when I was little,” Ady says, kicking her feet up next to mine as she leans back in the patio chair. “For three years straight, I dressed up as a pretty pink piglet for Halloween.”

  I smile at my friend. “I bet you were adorable.”

  She flicks her hair as if she were a diva. “You know it.”

  Even though Ady and I see each other on campus, it’s been months since we’ve spent time together like this. Having her at my condo presents a weird juxtaposition. On one hand, I’m happy to be in her company because I consider her a true friend. But, on the other hand, I’m so sad to have her here because it only magnifies how distant we’ve become.

  It even extends beyond that because, ever since Caleb came into my life, I’ve shifted my stance with all my friends. Again, on one hand, it makes me sad to have my friendships suffering, but on the other, I’m so happy with Caleb.

  “Are you going to Brody’s Halloween party tonight?”

  I close my eyes when a small gust of wind carries through my hair. “No. Caleb is coming over later, and we’re just going to lie low.”

  “I thought for sure you’d be there, wearing something sexy.”

  “Sexy?”

  “I could see you as a cat. A naughty cat in a black latex suit,” she says with an equally naughty smirk.

  “Oh my god! You’re crazy.”

  We both laugh.

  I was actually looking forward to dressing up this year and hitting Brody’s party until he told me that Trent would be there. I’ve held true to my word with Caleb. Ever since the night of the gala, I haven’t spoken to or texted Trent because I want to put Caleb’s feelings first, something I don’t think many people have done for him.

  At first, I felt bad about severing my friendship with Trent because I like him and we had become good friends. Caleb then pointed out how Trent, in a backhanded way, was putting me down by putting down our relationship. I couldn’t see it at first, but the more I thought about it, the more I understood where Caleb was coming from.

  “Maybe next year,” I tell her. “I might even buy a whip.”

  “No maybe about it. You better make it happen.”

  “What about you and Micah? What are you two doing tonight?”

  “Camping out in his bed and watching TV. There’s a Nightmare on Elm Street marathon on.”

  “How romantic,” I deadpan.

  “How lame are we?”

  “We aren’t lame, we’re just in relationships.”

  She turns her head and looks out over the sky, seemingly in thought before asking, “So, how are things with you and Caleb?”

  “They’re good.”

  When her eyes meet mine, she looks skeptical. “Yeah?”

  “Yeah,” I assure. “Why are you asking?”

  She shrugs and moves her focus back to the sky. “It’s just . . .”

  “Say it.”

  Dropping her feet from the railing, she sits up and responds, “Trent told me about what happened at the beach last month.”

  She brings to life a fluttering of anxious jitters when she mentions this. “What did he say?”

  “That he didn’t feel like things were quite right between you and Caleb.”

  What she doesn’t say is that he told her that he saw Caleb grab me a little too roughly. Trent isn’t the type of person to hold something like that back. Only, it wasn’t as if Caleb meant to hurt me. He isn’t an asshole.

  “Trent has a thing against Caleb, you know that,” I slough off with a shake of my head.

  “I know,” she says before adding, “He isn’t the only one who has said something like that though.”

  “What is this all about?”

  “Nothing.” Her voice pitches with a hint of defensiveness, and she catches herself. “I just want to make sure you’re all right.”

  “Why would you even think that I wouldn’t be?”

  “Because people talk.”

  “What people?” I ask, my annoyance blooming with how my relationship is being scrutinized, not only by Trent but also by Ady.

  “Just people.”

  “What are they saying?”

  She hesitates to answer.

  “Just tell me.”

  Looking at me straight on, she comes out with it. “People are saying he hurts you. That they’ve seen you two fighting. That you’re probably hiding bruises.”

  My jaw falls. “What? Are you serious?”

  “Trent said he saw him grab you.”

  “Trent doesn’t know what he saw,” I defend.

  “Brody said something similar as well.”

  “So, everyone is talking behind my back and spreading these rumors? Nice.”

  “Kate, these are your friends.”

  “Doesn’t sound like it to me,” I tell her before standing and walking back inside the condo.

  “I’m not trying to fight,” she says as she follows me. “But I care about you, and I would be a horrible friend if I didn’t at least ask you about it, right? If something were going on, and I ignored it . . .”

  “If you cared about me, you wouldn’t be accusing Caleb, in a roundabout way, of hurting me. I mean . . . you know how people like to gossip. D
o you know what this could do to his reputation?”

  “I’m not worried about his reputation. I’m worried about you.”

  “Well, don’t be,” I state and then take a seat on the couch. “People will always have their opinions, but I’m the one in the relationship, not them.”

  Even though he has put his hands on me, I know it wasn’t because he meant to. He has a problem with his temper, but he’s promised me that it won’t happen again, and I trust him. It isn’t worth betraying his trust to confide in her about this. I would never do that. He’s so ashamed of his behavior, and at the same time, I’m ashamed too—embarrassed that she might think less of me if I told her this has happened and I’m still with him because, no matter what I would say, I doubt she would understand.

  “Caleb is a great guy. He would never, and I mean never, do anything to hurt me,” I tell her adamantly. “Do we sometimes get into disagreements? Sure. But every couple does. That doesn’t make him a bad person.”

  She stares at me with reluctance, and I hate that people are painting Caleb as a monster when it is so far from the truth.

  “If you knew him, you would see how sweet and kind he is. He’s good to me and so thoughtful. But I don’t like having to defend my relationship to everyone.”

  “It’s coming from a place of love.”

  “Is it? Because it feels like it’s just fodder you all are feeding on.”

  “Maybe it is just fodder,” she responds. “But if you heard those things about me, I would expect you to say something about it.”

  With a huff, I sink back into the couch.

  “Trust me when I tell you that I’m not going around gossiping about you. Neither is Trent. None of us are. We’re just concerned because on top of that, I feel like he’s isolating you from all your friends.”

  I groan, rolling my eyes before sitting up again. “No one is isolating me. You’re here right now, aren’t you?”

  “Right now, but this is the first time we’ve hung out in months when we used to hang out all the time.”

  “You can thank Trent for that,” I tell her. “It’s just hard because you live with him, so I don’t feel like I can come over and chill with you anymore.”