by Kallysten
“Bryce.”
Deep circles under his eyes make him appear older and darken his gaze as he observes Calden.
“Calden. All better, I see.”
Calden gives Bryce a tight smile, the one he usually reserves for Petters when he says something particularly stupid.
“Yes, of course you see. Encephalitis and its effects can be observed by the way a person dresses. How clever of you to notice. Your talents are wasted as an ambulance driver.”
A flash of anger twists Bryce’s features.
“Drop the act. Maybe you can fool Eli—”
His annoyance growing deeper, Calden interrupts him. “Whether you believe me ill or not is none of my concern,” he says sharply.
Bryce actually laughs at that, a dry, angry bark of laughter.
“You don’t look ill. You don’t sound ill, either. You’re just you. You certainly didn’t forget how to be rude. Or how to manipulate Eli.”
Briefly, Calden considers defining anterograde amnesia for him and pointing out that he’s lost twenty-five days so far but remembers just about every moment of the three-and-a-half decades before that. What purpose would it serve, though? Bryce made up his mind already. He can’t see the damage, so for him it doesn’t exist. Nothing Calden says is going to change that. Bryce decided Calden was bad news the moment they met months ago—and in truth, Calden decided the same thing about him.
“Why are you here?” he asks.
Bryce shifts in his seat, pulling a thick envelope he’d wedged against the side of the armchair. He shows it to Calden before setting it on the table next to him, on top of a pile of mail Calden brought in earlier.
“I came to give this to Eli,” he says, frowning at the mail. “But I see I could have just sent it through the post. He already gets his mail here. He really didn’t lose any time.”
Calden doesn’t reply. The timeline of events is a little unclear in his mind, and he’s not quite sure how long Eli has been living with him.
“I wish he could see you the same way the rest of us do,” Bryce says, his cold eyes back to Calden. “Just because you saved his arm, he acts like you can do no wrong. And now this. Playing him, playing on his guilt again when he can’t save you. Faking a life-changing illness so he’ll take care of you.”
“You’re wrong,” Calden says, but doesn’t bother listing all the ways in which Bryce is mistaken, because something he said is suddenly explaining a lot about Eli. Guilt? Is that really Eli’s motivation here? He’s a doctor. He has to know there was nothing he could do. Doesn’t he?
“Did you even stop for a second to think he had a home and a husband?” Bryce asks, and now he sounds tired and sad. “Did he stop and think about that before he agreed to all this?”
Again, Calden has no answer for him. He doesn’t remember asking or Eli saying yes.
“Of course not,” Bryce says as he stands. “I don’t know why I bothered asking. Well, congratulations. I hope you’ll be very happy together. Until he realizes you’re a fraud and you break his heart again.”
He marches out without a word of goodbye, leaving Calden confused beyond words. He doesn’t care one bit that Bryce thinks he’s faking. If he wants to willfully be blind, it’s his issue, not Calden’s. But what on Earth does he mean by ‘break his heart again’? And the guilt thing…
Just then, Calden’s phone beeps. He picks it up from the coffee table and glances at the text message. Eli’s timing is rather astounding.
Almost done here. Everything all right?
Fine, Calden sends for all reply.
‘Fine’ is a stupid word, and if Eli was here, he’d realize Calden is anything but. Or maybe he can sense something through that one-word reply because a new message soon comes in.
I won’t be long.
Calden clenches his hand over the phone, his eyes drifting to the envelope Bryce left behind. Divorce papers. It has to be. Should he tell Eli Bryce was here?
No. That’s a can of worms Calden doesn’t care to open, especially when he’s still thinking about Bryce’s parting words.
Why does Bryce believe Eli and Calden are together in that way? Why did Eli move in, for that matter? What is Calden missing here? Wouldn’t Eli have told him if something had happened to bring them closer?
As unpleasant as the prospect is, Calden can only think of one person who might be able to answer—one person other than Eli, and Eli already proved he doesn’t care to talk about it. Calden considers texting, but texts can be ignored while a call won’t be. He dials, and the phone only rings once before Lana answers.
“Calden? Are you all right?”
The worry in her voice is enough to cause Calden to grimace. He doesn’t reply and asks instead, “Were you there when arrangements were made about my care at home?”
After a beat, Lana replies warily. “Was I there when Eli agreed to live with you? Of course I was. Why? What happened? Did he change his mind?”
It had not occurred to Calden until this moment that Eli might change his mind, and suddenly it’s obvious that he will, sooner or later. Why wouldn’t he? What satisfaction can he find in this sort of life?
“What did he say when he agreed?” Calden asks, ignoring Lana’s question. “Why did he agree? Did you twist his arm? Did you say something that—”
“I was little more than a witness,” Lana cuts in with a little huff. “It was your decision to ask him, and I had nothing to do with it. As a matter of fact, I suggested other alternatives which you rejected.”
“But what did he say?” Calden insists.
“I don’t know why you’re asking me rather than him. He said ‘Of course.’ That was just about it. Now is there anything else, Calden? We’re expecting an attack in a few hours and I—”
Calden disconnects the call with a raging press of his thumb.
Of course.
Of course.
What the hell does that mean? It doesn’t explain anything at all. If anything, it confirms what Bryce suspected—that he didn’t factor into Eli’s decision. But why not? Surely, Eli should have thought of Bryce. Eli married him, after all. Or was the marriage already over at that point? Calden had noticed a few odd things since their wedding, but he thought it’d take longer. And besides, they were seeing a therapist together. Eli hadn’t mentioned it, but Calden heard a rumor. So why ‘of course’?
He’s still no closer to finding an answer when Eli returns.
“I see you got dressed,” he says as soon as he walks into the living room. “Are we going somewhere?”
‘We.’ Does it mean something? Well, it certainly means that Eli thinks Calden shouldn’t go anywhere on his own, but apart from that?
“No, I just… felt like getting out of my pajamas.”
Eli smiles, like getting dressed is something worth being happy about.
“Well, since you are dressed, maybe we could go out for a walk.” Picking up the mail on the table, he browses through the envelopes. “You haven’t been out of the house since you came home from the hospital,” he says absently, setting down most of the mail to open the thick envelope on top. “It’ll do you good to get some fresh air.”
Calden doesn’t reply and instead watches as Eli’s eyebrows climb up his forehead when he starts reading. Soon, he’s frowning, his lips pressed together in a thin line, his hands shaking. Upset.
Upset because of divorce papers he surely had an inkling he’d be given sooner or later, seeing how he moved out of his apartment.
Did he believe he could work things out with Bryce regardless of where he lived?
Is that why Lana’s first thought was that Eli had changed his mind about living with Calden?
An ache is growing in Calden’s chest, making it a little hard to breathe or even to answer when Eli shoves the papers back in the envelope and asks, a little more sharply than before, “So? Fresh air?”
But it’s clear he has no desire to go for a walk with Calden.
“Sorry,” Calden
mutters. “I’m tired. I’ll go to bed now.”
It might be the worst lie he’s ever uttered for Eli’s benefit, but Eli, as always, doesn’t notice. He just nods absently, his attention still on the envelope Bryce delivered. It’s doubtful he even notices when Calden stands and leaves the room. In his bedroom, Calden leans back against the door and closes his eyes.
Bryce is wrong if he thinks Eli might see more in Calden than a friend. Calden would be wrong to let himself hope. And Calden is going to have to relearn that painful truth every time he wakes up for the rest of his life.
For a long, long time he considers the bottle of sleeping pills on his night table, wondering how many would be too many. When he finally goes to sleep, it’s without their help. He doesn’t want to add to Eli’s guilt.
(next chronological chapter)
November 15th
It was past three in the morning when they climbed out of the car. Eli unlocked the front door and held it open, then closed it behind Calden. As Eli followed Calden inside, he did a quick bout of mental arithmetic. It had been at least fifteen hours since Calden had had something to eat, and even then it’d only been a few bites of a sandwich to appease Eli. He needed food and sleep, although Eli wasn’t sure in which order. It depended on one thing, really.
“Do you still see her?” he asked as they entered the hallway together.
Calden turned to him, his hands frozen halfway through untying his scarf.
“See her?” he repeated, an eyebrow raised.
Eli winced. He could only blame his tiredness for the slip.
“Them. The hallucinations. Do you still see them?”
Calden finished taking off his coat and scarf, though his gaze didn’t lift from Eli.
“No. Not since I figured out what was wrong with our patient. Adrenaline chased them away, I think.”
Eli nodded absently. Whether it was adrenaline or something else, it had happened before that a successful outcome had given Calden a few more lucid hours.
“All right. Good. You should eat something before bed. Okay?”
When Calden agreed, Eli walked into the kitchen. While he warmed up a plate of leftovers, Calden settled on the sofa with his diary and scribbled feverishly. Eli watched him from the kitchen, knowing he was writing about today’s patients... or was he? As tempting as sneaking a peek was, Eli had never done it, nor did he plan to. After all, he had given Calden his word.
The microwave pinged behind him. He brought the plate to Calden, who pulled the coffee table closer to the sofa so he could continue writing with his right hand while eating absently with the left. The first time Eli had seen him do this, he’d been surprised, though in retrospect he should have known that Calden would have taught himself to use both hands interchangeably. If nothing else, Calden would have seen it as a challenge.
Sitting in his armchair, Eli thought to himself, not for the first time, that as devastating as Calden’s condition was, few people would have been better equipped to deal with it than Calden. For him, it was only another challenge, and all things considered he wasn’t doing badly so far. Eli was glad he was able to help a little, but some days he wondered whether Calden wouldn’t have found a way to thrive on his own, too. He was certainly stubborn enough. Still, that was something they’d never know.
Calden was apparently done with his diary. Setting it aside, he picked up the plate and switched the fork to his right hand. He sat back as he ate and observed Eli, who smiled instinctively.
“You know what form my hallucinations take,” Calden said after a few mouthfuls.
Eli’s smile melted away. “I know some forms they’ve taken in the past,” he said slowly, weighing each word. This was a topic he could do without talking about. “Are you finished? It’s past time you got some sleep.”
Calden, unsurprisingly, ignored the mention of sleep.
“Forms?” he said sharply. “Plural? You know for a fact that there have been several incarnations?”
“No,” Eli admitted with a quiet sigh. “The ones I was able to guess were always the same person.”
For a few seconds, Calden considered him intently, as though he could read the answer on Eli’s face—not a new feeling, but never pleasant. In the end, he said one word.
“Riley.”
Eli grimaced. “Yes. So it was her again today?”
Calden’s brow tightened into a slight frown. “Yes. I was wondering if it was always her. Caroline didn’t know, but I’d hardly confide in her anyway. Do you know…”
When he didn’t finish the question, Eli tried to take a guess. “Do I know what? What she says to you?” At Calden’s slight nod, he continued. “I know she tells you it’s your fault she died. And that I’m going to leave. I hope you know neither thing is true.”
Pushing himself out of his armchair, Eli came over to the sofa. With one hand, he took the plate Calden hadn’t touched in a little while. With the other, he brushed Calden’s hair off his forehead. Calden tilted his head up into the soft touch, looking up at Eli.
“Do you know that?” he asked softly.
Calden licked his lips before answering. “I do. That doesn’t mean I have any control over what my subconscious throws at me.”
“No, I suppose not. And your subconscious does seem to be just as stubborn as the rest of you.”
“I’m not stubborn,” Calden protested.
Eli snorted. “Prove it. Go to bed without arguing like a five year old.”
A small gleam lit Calden’s eyes. Eli knew it quite well. It usually accompanied words like ‘I’m not tired.’ Maybe because of the challenge Eli had just issued, Calden did not voice the blatant lie and said instead, “I need a shower.”
“A quick one,” Eli admonished. “And then you need sleep.”
He offered his free hand to Calden and helped him up. Calden didn’t let go right away. Standing very close to Eli, he observed him through eyes darkened by wide pupils.
“When I woke up,” he said very quietly, “I was alone. But we usually share a bed now, don’t we?”
Eli would never tire of the way Calden blushed, delicate pink suffusing his pale face.
“We do,” Eli confirmed with a smile. “Or at least, when you sleep during regular sleeping hours. I’m not much for napping in the middle of the day, even if it means depriving you of a source of heat to latch on to.”
“So you’ll sleep in my bed tonight?”
Eli nodded.
“What about more than sleeping?” Calden asked, his voice a low, deep rumbling.
He couldn’t possibly be aware of what that voice always did to Eli, how it shot through him, intoxicating and arousing. Aware or not, however, he used that voice like a well-crafted weapon and hit dead center every time.
“You need sleep,” Eli repeated hoarsely.
Calden’s only reply was a small smile before he finally stepped away toward the bathroom. Eli watched him go, unable to completely stifle a groan. He knew that smile. That was Calden’s patented ‘I will get what I want simply because I always get what I want’ smile.
And how could he not get what he wanted, really, when Eli wanted it too?
The past three days had been all about the hospital, and Eli had no problem with that. It was part of who Calden was, part of what made him Calden—and part of what made his life worth living now that it had been altered forever. It was no hardship for Eli to step back and watch him work, and he’d done so without a second thought. But the dynamic had switched in the car as Eli drove them home and again just a moment ago.
“He needs sleep,” Eli muttered to himself as he took Calden’s plate to the kitchen then made his way to the bedroom. “For that matter, I need sleep. It’s not like there’s any rush. We’ll both still be there tomorrow.”
But tomorrow would start again with Calden rediscovering his condition and everything that came with it, and while the process had become much smoother, Calden would need a bit of time to adjust. For that matter, if he
didn’t sleep enough—something that happened too often—Eli would send him back to bed sooner rather than later. Would it be so bad, really, to have a few more minutes with a Calden who was aware of everything?
Eli’s subconscious must have come to a conclusion before he did, because it occurred to him as he climbed into bed and drew the covers over him that he had stripped down completely rather than putting on the old t-shirt and boxers he usually wore at night.
Before he had time to change his mind or even berate himself for it, Calden came in from the bathroom, a towel around his waist. Even in the faint light from the night lamp, his skin had a rosy hue from the hot water of his shower. He seemed oddly hesitant, standing by the side of the bed, watching Eli, and for a second Eli was about to ask him if something was wrong. And then he realized—How could he have forgotten, really? Was he that tired?—that this was, again, all new for Calden. He didn’t remember ever climbing into bed with Eli or being nude in front of him or anything else.
With a soft smile, Eli folded back the covers, inviting Calden into bed with a quiet, “Get in before you get cold.”
Calden dropped the towel only a fraction of a second before sliding into bed, preserving his modesty. Eli couldn’t help laughing quietly.
“I’ve seen it all before, you know.”
“I realize that.” Calden rolled onto his side, mirroring Eli though remaining far enough away that they weren’t in any danger of touching. “And it doesn’t help. If anything, I feel like I need to catch up.”
His face was slowly turning crimson.
Laughing quietly, Eli shifted closer to him.
“You don’t have to catch up,” he said, reaching up to lay a gentle hand against Calden’s cheek, “You don’t have to do anything. Actually it’d probably be better if you went to sleep before we end up with an audience.”
Eli really wished he could have sounded more forceful, but it was rather difficult to convince both himself and Calden at the same time, especially when his thumb, stroking Calden’s cheek, encountered silky smooth skin. Calden usually shaved in the morning, but he’d shaved the trace of facial hair that had been darkening his cheeks. He’d shaved for Eli.
