by Lili Valente
All I know is that I have to make her hate me. If we’d made it to the end of the summer, we might have been able to part as friends, but now alienating her is the only option. I don’t want her coming after me, searching for an explanation as to why I’ve suddenly gone back on our bargain. She knows me too well, and knows keeping my promises is important to me. She would put her clever, stubborn head to work figuring out what I’m hiding and it wouldn’t be difficult for her to find out.
Hating me is the only thing that will keep her out of my business, and away from Darby Hill, where my mother is waiting to spill all of my secrets. My father can be trusted to keep his mouth shut—he likes Caitlin, and will see that what I’ve done is for the best—so there shouldn’t be any problem with him continuing to represent her in her suit against her father.
She’ll get custody of the kids, have enough money to go back to school, and be able to truly move on with her life. She’ll be able to keep the good things from our time together, without suffering the fallout. She might be upset for a while—sometimes, I think she cares for me more than she lets on—but she’ll get over a broken heart. She’s only twenty years old. She has her entire life ahead of her, a life she’ll spend loving someone much better for her than me.
The thought sends a wave a pain flashing through my body that has nothing to do with the nightmare in my head.
I park in front of her house and shut off the engine, taking a moment to brace myself.
Before I can get out of the car, the front door slams open and Sean flies out, followed closely by Emmie, wearing the rainbow tutu Caitlin and I bought her at the French Heritage festival last weekend. She is smiling that smile that looks so much like Caitlin’s, looking so sweet and innocent and obviously happy to see me that it flays at my insides.
My heart squeezes and my chest is suddenly so tight I can barely draw a breath. It’s not just Caitlin I love. I love that little girl. I love the way she looks at me like I’m something completely good, a hero.
But I’m no hero. I’m a monster. I’m as bad as the people in Dad’s files, lying to myself and everyone around me. Trying to make it okay to take what I want without stopping to think of the people I’m destroying along the way.
The kids won’t be destroyed. They’re young. Emmie will forget you in a week, the boys in two or three. It’s not too late for a clean break.
My ribs loosen. I draw a deep breath, force a smile, and exit the car. I ruffle Sean’s hair as I pass him by, and stop long enough to lean down, pressing a soft kiss to Emmie’s forehead, but I don’t stop to ask about their day, or where they want to go for a drive after dinner the way I usually do.
“We’ll be in the backyard,” Sean calls out after me, a plaintive note in his voice that makes me think he realizes something’s wrong. “Come out after you talk to Caitlin.”
“We’ll see,” I say noncommittally, determined not to lie to the Cooney kids any more than I have already. I trudge up the concrete steps to the house, letting myself in without bothering to knock. I’m allowed to do that now; I’m practically part of the family.
The thought makes me wince as I shut the door behind me.
“Be down in just a second!” Caitlin calls from upstairs.
Her voice is a knife slipped between my ribs. I would rather die than do what I came here to do. I don’t want to hurt her. I want to give her the world, fight for her dreams, promise her forever. I want to spend my life making her happy, making her laugh, making her come—crying out my name in that voice that is my favorite voice because it is hers.
God, I love her, so fucking much, but I’m not much better than a ghost.
But she’s still alive—even more alive than the day I met her—and her potential is limitless. I believe in her, more than I’ve ever believed in anyone, and that’s why I will do this. Because to do anything else would hurt more than the verbal blows I’ll deliver today.
She pounds down the stairs a split second after my resolve has slipped into place, Danny not far behind her.
“Sorry, we were fixing the toilet. It broke again and…” Her words trail away as our eyes meet across the living room. Her smile fades and fear flickers in her eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“We need to talk,” I say, voice flat, emotionless.
“Danny go outside,” Caitlin says softly, throat working as she swallows.
“But I was going to play—”
“Go outside,” Caitlin repeats more firmly. “Please. And keep everyone else outside until I say it’s okay to come back in.”
Danny hesitates, glancing between me and Caitlin. After a moment, something shifts in his expression and he nods. “Oh…okay.”
He turns to leave, but before he reaches the kitchen he turns back. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay, Caitlin? Watch your back?” he asks, shooting me a narrow look, a look that is full of anger and disbelief and a silent prayer not to do what he knows I’m going to do. What we all know I’m going to do.
Caitlin shakes her head. “No…but thanks, D.”
“All right,” Danny says. “Call me if you need me.”
“Will do,” Caitlin says to him, but she’s looking at me, watching me like a loaded gun.
I hold her gaze, wanting to make it clear from the beginning that there are no cracks in my resolve. There will be no backing down, no bargaining, no buying time. This is the end. The train stops here and everyone but me is getting off before it jumps the tracks.
I wait until I hear the back door close behind Danny to say, “I talked to my father this morning about what will happen when you get custody of the kids. It’s forever. You understand that, right?”
She nods, but doesn’t say a word.
“You’ll be legally bound to take care of them until Emmie’s eighteen,” I say. “You’ll be signing half your life away.”
“I know,” she says.
I sigh. “Listen, I like you, Caitlin, a lot, and lately I’ve been thinking this thing between us could be serious, but I’m not ready to take on a family. I don’t want to sacrifice the best years of my life because your parents and sister can’t be bothered to live up to their responsibilities. I have bigger dreams.”
Caitlin’s brows draw together, hurt and shock mixing in her eyes. “Yeah, I know that, Gabe. From the beginning, we both agreed this was just for the summer.”
“It’s becoming more than that, and you know it.” I say, forcing irritation into my tone. “The kids are getting attached; you’re getting attached.”
“Don’t tell me what I’m feeling,” she snaps.
“It’s better if we end it now before we get in any deeper.” I take a step toward the door, even though all I want to do is cross the room, pull her into my arms, and kiss her until we both forget everything I’ve said. “Despite what some people think, I’m not a heartless asshole. I don’t want to be responsible for making kids cry when I skip town in August and never come back.”
“So that’s it?” she asks, voice breaking. “It’s over. Just like that?”
“I think a clean break is best.” I shrug. “My father is still going to represent you for free, and the money in the joint account in Charleston is yours. I’ll send you something later this week letting you know where the rest of the cash is hidden. Altogether, it should be enough to cover expenses while you get your degree.”
Caitlin nods and keeps nodding for a long time. She crosses her arms, uncrosses them, drops her gaze to the carpet, and then tilts her head back to stare at the ceiling. She laughs softly, and runs a hand through her hair, but still doesn’t say a word.
“I really do wish you all the best,” I say, speaking the truth for the first time since I walked in the door.
Caitlin pulls in a breath that emerges as a sob. “I don’t believe you.”
“It’s the truth. I think you’re a good person, who deserves good things.”
“No, not that,” she says, voice vibrating with anger as she crosses the room, getting
close enough for me to smell her Caitlin smell, breaking my heart a little more as I realize this is the last time I’ll ever breathe her in.
“I don’t believe the kids are why you’re calling it off,” she continues, pinning me with a wounded look. “I see the way you smile at them. You care about them, and you’re happy when you’re with our family. That’s not fake, I know it’s not.”
“Caring, and wanting to play daddy, are two very different things.”
“Bullshit,” she says, eyes shining with unshed tears. “You’re happy here; you’re happy with me, and you said you weren’t going back to college, anyway. What other plans can you have that are worth setting everything we have on fire and walking away?”
“I’m sorry if I led you to believe I was feeling something that I don’t,” I say, my voice stiff.
She laughs, sending the tears in her eyes gliding down her cheeks. “You do feel something. You love me; I know you do. And I love you.” Her face crumples for a moment before she sucks in a breath, regaining control. “I love you so much it scares me to death, but I’m not running away. I’m not being a coward.”
“You can’t run.” I cross my arms, fighting the urge to reach for her, to crush her to my chest and tell her love isn’t a strong enough word for what I feel for her. “You’re tied to the kids, to this town. You couldn’t run away, even if you wanted to.”
“I could,” she says in a softer voice. “I could drop the suit, give Chuck the kids, and come with you, wherever you’re going.”
“You wouldn’t,” I say, searching her face, afraid she might be serious.
She lifts her chin, and swipes the tears from her cheek with a rough palm. “My mom and sister did it, and somebody always stepped in to pick up the pieces. I could do it, too.”
“You know there’s no one left to step in,” I whisper, casting a glance toward the backyard, where the kids are playing. “You’re the only person any of them can count on. If you left, you’d destroy them.”
“So?” Caitlin says. “Maybe I’m tired of being the girl people can count on.”
I shake my head, a scowl clawing into my face as my skull starts to pound all over again. “You’d break their hearts. Maybe forever. Can you really fucking live with that?”
Caitlin smiles, a slow, trembling smile that tells me I’ve walked into a trap. “You should see the look on your face. You really look like a guy who doesn’t give a shit about those kids.”
I squeeze my eyes shut and drive a hand through my hair, cussing beneath my breath.
“You love them,” Caitlin says, hope thick in her voice. “And I love them, and I love you, and I know we can be good together. We could…we could even be family.” Her hands come to my chest, her fingers fisting in my gray tee shirt. It’s the same one I was wearing when I asked her to come play with me, back when I was still dumb enough to believe this thing with Caitlin could remain a casual, summer fling. “Stay with me, Gabe. Don’t run. Stay. Please.”
I open my eyes. Her face is so close, and I want to kiss her so badly I can taste the sweetness I know I’ll find in her mouth, but I can’t. I can’t kiss her, I can’t keep loving her, I can’t stay here or I’m going to ruin everything.
If I stay, I’ll carry her upstairs and make love to her. I’ll hold her close after, and confess it all, and she’ll still want me to stay because she is kind and generous and strong, but it will destroy her. I will destroy her, and I can’t have that on my conscience. I have no illusions about going to heaven—I don’t even know if I believe in it anymore—but I want to go out clean, without emotional blood on my hands. I won’t give Caitlin and the kids a front row seat to more pointless suffering. They’ve been through enough. I have to finish this, or I will never forgive myself.
“Sometimes love isn’t enough,” I say roughly. I cover her fists with my fingers and force her hands away. “I like you, and I love fucking you, but you are not what I want, Caitlin. I don’t want this.”
“You’re a liar,” she says, but there is doubt in her voice and fresh tears stream down her cheeks.
“I am a liar, and a thief, and a sociopath,” I say. “And I don’t plan to change. Is that really who you want helping you raise the kids?”
“Yes, because you’re also a good man,” she says, with a ferocity that surprises me. “And because I’m all of those things, too.”
“Only because I’ve messed you up,” I say. “You’ll be better off when I’m gone.”
“No, I won’t.” She shakes her head hard enough to send her hair flying around her shoulders. “I don’t want to go back to who I was before. I don’t care if the old Caitlin was a better version of me; I want to be the person I am with you. I want to feel this alive and happy and whole. I won’t go back, even if you walk out that door right now.”
“But please…please stay.” Her forehead wrinkles and her tear-filled eyes squeeze shut and I can feel her pain like it’s my own, because it is.
She isn’t the only one who feels like a piece of her body is being ripped away. She’s a part of me now, the best part, and for the first time in my life I don’t feel alone. And she feels the same, I can see it in her eyes, feel it vibrating in the air around us. I’ve met my perfect match, and we’re in love.
The irony that it happened now is enough to crush my heart to bloody pieces.
“I can’t.” I choke out as I turn toward the door.
“You won’t,” she counters with a sob.
“Same difference,” I say, hand closing around the door handle. “I’m leaving town soon. I don’t want to see you again. Don’t come by my house, don’t call, don’t contact me, or my family, unless you have a question for my father about your case.”
She draws in a shuddering breath, but before she can say another word, I push through the door into the summer heat. It’s only then—as I’m rushing across the patchy lawn with the sun beating down hard enough to make beads of sweat pop on my upper lip—that I realize the air conditioning had been on inside the house.
I’ve been telling her to turn it on for weeks, promising it was safe to let down her guard, to stop hoarding every cent, and spend some money on things that will make her and the kids more comfortable.
It seems she finally took my advice, just in time for me to prove she should never have listened to a bastard like me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Caitlin
If it's drowning you’re after,
don’t torment yourself with shallow water. –Irish Proverb
I don’t know how long I sit on the couch and cry after he leaves. It seems like hours, and only a few moments, all at the same time. The pain is so intense it feels like it’s been eating away at me forever, and so sharp it’s as if the knife is just sliding in—fresh and agonizing.
I cry and cry, but it doesn’t make the hurt go away. It doesn’t even take the edge off. I know I’m wasting time and energy, but I can’t stop. I am broken, and thanks to Gabe I don’t know how to put myself back together again. The old Caitlin would have already swallowed all these feelings and started throwing something together for dinner—since hamburger night has clearly fallen through. Old Caitlin would have put inconvenient emotions aside for later, put her chin up, and soldiered on.
No, old Caitlin would never have had these emotions in the first place. She didn’t let down her guard; she didn’t invite strangers in. She didn’t know what it was like to hold Gabe’s hand, to laugh with him over a dozen private jokes, to look into his eyes while he moved above her and see the pleasure-pain in his expression as they made love.
Pleasure, because every time Gabe and I touch it is magic; pain because it’s almost too beautiful, too perfect, too close. When Gabe and I make love, I know he can see into every corner of my heart, every dark hollow in my soul. He takes me all in, every twisted piece, and reflects an image so beautiful, I had started to believe his reflection was the true one. I had started to believe I was lovable, and that Gabe was going to cha
nge his mind and stay with me, no matter what kind of plans he’d made, no matter how stubborn he is once he has set his mind on something.
Deep down, I’d thought I was enough to hold him, and be everything he’d ever need.
I still can’t believe I was so wrong. I saw the way Gabe looked at me; I felt the reverence in his touch. He never touched me like something he planned to throw away. He touched me like what we had was sacred. I know he’s an amazing liar, but I didn’t think even he was this good, so good I’d have no clue he was checking out until the rug was yanked out from beneath me and I was already flying through the air.
Guess that’s what happens when you fall in love with a sociopath, I think, but that word doesn’t sit any better in my head than it did in my heart when Gabe used it as an excuse to walk away.
Gabe might be a sociopath; I might be a sociopath—I probably am, it would go a long way to explaining why I don’t feel bad about any of the things Gabe and I have done—but that doesn’t mean we don’t have a code. There are certain things I would never do. I would never abandon my family, I would never hurt an innocent, and I would never kick someone while they were down.
Aside from the conversation we had when I drew the line at robbery, forbidding other criminal activity, Gabe and I never sat down to talk about morals or ethics, but I felt in my gut that we saw things the same way. Gabe is blunt, but he’s never cruel. He’s self-interested, but never selfish—quite the opposite in fact. I know he would have given me every dime in his trust fund if I’d asked for it. He’s changeable, but his promises mean something. He doesn’t give his word or strike a deal unless he intends to follow through.
“So why is he backing out now?” I whisper, my voice thick from crying.
I stand, suddenly full of restless energy, and move into the kitchen. I grab a tissue and blow my nose, mop up my face, and think about the question.
