Only Between Us

by Mila Ferrera

  “She was scared out of her mind,” Jude says, the cold light of accusation in his eyes. “Romy needed you, Caleb.”

  And I left her there. I left her there because my sister, who is constantly in crisis … was having another crisis. My feet carry me toward Romy’s room before I know what I’m doing. Jude grabs my arm but I throw it off, none too gently. Eric wisely pulls Jude away when he starts to step in front of me.

  “I told you she was sleeping,” Jude says. “She needs to rest, Caleb.”

  “I won’t wake her up,” I mumble. “But I have to see her.” Quiet as I can, I open her door and creep into her darkened room. Her slight body is huddled under a couple of blankets, and I kneel next to the bed, close but not touching her.

  I listen to her breathe. A swell of warmth crashes over me, so powerful that I bend beneath its weight. Romy. My Romy. Daniel was right. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. She’s the girl who trusts me, who thinks I’m worthy, who takes care of me. The girl who twists me up, then sorts me out. The girl who knows how to say things that have to be said … except when it comes to telling me she needs me, apparently.

  Katie’s not the only one allowed to have needs, Daniel said this afternoon. Romy needed you, Caleb, Jude said just now. Their words wind through my brain, pushing my other thoughts into place. Katie deserves love and safety, and that’s what I’ve always wanted for her. Romy deserves that, too, though. That and so much more. And she’s given me the chance to be with her, to give that to her—and I’m failing.

  I’ve failed at so many things in my life. I’ve had my ass kicked, and I’ve been a coward, and I’ve let people use me, and I’ve made all the wrong choices. But when I’m with Romy, I don’t feel so broken. I feel stronger.

  I feel like I’m healing. And I want to do the same thing for her.

  Something has to change. Something has to change now, or I’m going to lose her.

  I stand up and lean over her. The glow of a streetlamp from the parking lot filters through her lacy curtains. Romy’s eyes are closed, her long lashes casting shadows. I want to paint her like this. So beautiful. Everything I want. Everything I need. That’s what’s at stake if I don’t figure this out.

  “I love you,” I whisper, sinking back to the floor to sit next to her bed, a plan forming in my mind. “I love you.”

  I have no idea how many times I say it. I whisper it every time she exhales, every time she moves, every time I remember what she’s done for me, every time I think about what I want to experience with her by my side. I fall asleep with the words on my tongue, and when I tumble heavy into my dreams, I say it even then.

  Chapter Twenty-seven: Romy

  I wake to the sound of breathing, but not my own. Blinking as the rays of the sun pierce my curtains, I look toward the noise.

  Caleb is crumpled next to my bed, his long legs bent, his head propped against the edge of my bedside table, still wearing his clothes from yesterday. It looks horrifically uncomfortable, but he’s deeply asleep.

  I stare at his face. He’s here. Last night, this was all I wanted. When Alex had been rattling my door handle, demanding I open up and talk to him, when his fists started slamming against the glass right in front of my face, it felt like every one of those blows hit me square in the chest. But I managed to hold it together—I was calm as I told the police officers who he was and pulled out the personal protection order. Alex insisted I had invited him there to talk, but no one listened to a word he said. They put him in cuffs and tucked him into the cruiser and carried him to jail.

  As soon as he was gone, though, I felt like I was disintegrating. The co-op was only a few blocks away, and I headed straight for it, praying Caleb would be there. I was so relieved when I saw his truck out front, and when I found him inside, washing his brushes, it was like coming home. Need and safety and longing all rolled together. I could barely speak. All I could do was cling to him.

  I’m not the only one who needs him, though. I’m not even the one who needs him the most. And if he’s here in my room, it means that Catherine’s probably in the hospital.

  Otherwise, he’d be with her.

  As silently as I can, I slide off the end of my bed and tiptoe for the door. Jude is making coffee in my kitchen. He looks up and smiles. “How are you?”

  “I’m okay,” I say, my voice creaky with sleep and all the tears I shed yesterday.

  “Eric went home to sleep so he could be fresh for today,” he says.

  I accept a steaming mug from him. “Thanks for coming over last night. I’m sorry I was such a mess.”

  “You had every right to be a mess. If you hadn’t been a mess, I’d be worried you were completely detached emotionally.”

  I smile. “Such a therapist.”

  “I think I’m getting the hang of it.” He pours coffee for himself. “So. You slipped past Caleb, I see.”

  “He was out cold. When did he get here?”

  Jude shrugs. “Late. Nearly midnight, I think.” He sips his coffee. “I might have said a few things to him.”

  “Oh no. Jude …”

  “I can’t help it, Romy! You deserve to have a guy who’ll be there for you!”

  “It’s not his fault,” I say quietly. “It’s not like he’s off partying or playing video games.”

  “Maybe not, but the fact that you chose not to tell him that you ran into Alex last week speaks volumes.”

  I cradle my coffee mug against my chest, letting it warm me from the outside in. “You know why, though. I feel terrible making things worse for him. I want him to have what he needs, and I’ve been trying to give him that, but …” I slump. “When I’m not doing well, I can’t handle it. I can’t be as supportive as he deserves me to be, and I want more from him than he’s able to give. I know you and I aren’t supposed to talk about it, but … Catherine’s not doing well, Jude. Caleb’s constantly having to run to her, and yesterday was no different.”

  Jude sighs. “I know.”

  I nudge his hip with mine. “You do? You’re actually going to cut him some slack?”

  He rolls his eyes. “Maybe a little. But only because he showed up last night.” His lips twitch. “And maybe also because he slept on your floor like an overgrown guard dog. I dig protective guys.”

  I chuckle. Eric is exactly that kind of guy, so I know he’s speaking the truth. “Good.” I glance down the hall. “He probably had a terrible afternoon and night.” And I was out cold from the Xanax. “I wasn’t there for him, either.”

  A wave of hopelessness crashes over me. This isn’t fair to Caleb. He spends the evening with his desperately mentally ill sister, and then comes over to sleep on the floor next to his traumatized girlfriend. When does he get to worry about himself?

  “I don’t know what to do,” I say to Jude. “These problems aren’t going to magically disappear.”

  “You could walk away,” Jude says casually.

  “No, I don’t think I can.” My eyes blur with tears. “But I don’t think things can go on like this, either.”

  Jude rubs my back. “One thing at a time, okay? You have to get through today, and then you can deal with the rest of it. Go take a shower. Eric’s coming to pick you up in less than an hour.”

  Down the hall, my door squeaks open, and I hastily wipe at my face as Caleb comes down the hall, his long hair disheveled. His gray eyes search my expression as he draws near, watching me as if Jude weren’t even there. “They told me what happened,” he says to me.

  His hands are at his sides, and I so badly want him to reach for me, but he doesn’t. And though I want to throw myself at him and force him to catch me, I won’t. I don’t want to make him feel bad for yesterday.

  “I’m all right,” I say. “I wasn’t hurt. How’s Catherine?”

  His jaw clenches. “In the hospital. And I have to go. There’s a treatment planning meeting this morning, and I need to get there early.” He gives Jude a sidelong glance before returning his attention
to me. “But we need to talk.”

  My stomach drops. Maybe he knows it’s too much, too. Maybe he’s figured out the same thing I have. He can’t constantly stretch himself between me and Catherine. It’s not fair to him at all. “I-I know. We should talk. But I have this arraignment today … and then, I was actually thinking I might go back to Grosse Pointe early. My finals are done and …”

  “You’re leaving?” he says, so quietly that I barely catch it. Both of us know what I’m saying. I’m letting him off the hook. We were going to go to my parents’ party, but that seems so stupid and silly now. His sister’s in the hospital. There’s no way he’ll be able to leave her in this condition, especially not to do something so frivolous.

  “Yes. Tomorrow morning, probably.” I need to get out of town. I can’t be here, because if I was, I’d ask for things from him. I’d tell him I need him. I’d be upset that he couldn’t give me his time. And none of that is right.

  Caleb shoves his hands in his pockets. “Can I come over tonight then, so we can talk before you go?”

  No. I don’t want to do this. My toes curl and my stomach clenches as I try to hold my sobs inside. I manage to nod, but that’s all I can do.

  Caleb nods, too, first at me, then at Jude. “I’ll see you later, then.”

  Hesitantly, he touches my arm, a single finger sliding from my shoulder to my elbow. “Good luck today.” Then he turns quickly and strides out my front door.

  “No idea what just happened,” said Jude once Caleb is gone.

  “He’s going to break up with me,” I say, leaning against the counter. “That’s what just happened.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure.” He stares at the door.

  I set my mug down. “I have to get ready.” If I’m going to survive today without chemical assistance, I need to pull myself together. I get on my tiptoes and kiss Jude’s cheek. “Thanks for everything.”

  “Anytime,” he says. As I walk down the hall for the shower, he’s still watching the door like he thinks Caleb might come back.

  Too late, I think. Too late. Caleb is already long gone.

  Chapter Twenty-eight: Caleb

  I call Amy as I walk home. “Katie’s back in the hospital,” I say when she picks up.

  “Are we really surprised?” she says.

  In the background, I hear my nephews wreaking havoc, and I hesitate for a moment, but only for a moment. “No,” I say, “we’re not surprised. Her treatment planning meeting is at noon, Amy, and I need you to be there.”

  “What? I-I can’t—”

  “Amy, I need you to be there,” I say firmly. “Bring the kids if you have to, but this is important.”

  “I can take them to Derrick’s mom’s, but I don’t see why I need to—”

  “Because you’re our big sister,” I say. “And because I can’t do this alone anymore.”

  “I help, Caleb. I took Katie after she ran off with that drug dealer.”

  “You let her stay with you for twelve hours, Amy. And I really appreciated it, but it’s not enough. Not anymore, and especially not right now.”

  “Why? What’s happening now?”

  I clench the phone a little tighter. “Now Katie’s not the only person I need to worry about. Can you come today?”

  “I’m so busy, Caleb. I have a family of my own.”

  “We are your family, Amy!” I shout. “And if you don’t help me now, I’m going to lose someone really important to me.” I bow my head. “Please,” I rasp. “I can’t do this by myself anymore. Whatever you think I’ve done, whatever you think I deserve, if you love me at all, if you’ve ever loved me, please help me take care of Katie.”

  She’s so quiet that for a moment I wonder if she’s hung up on me. But then: “Okay, Caleb,” she murmurs. “I’ll be there.”

  “Thank you.”

  I get home and take a quick shower. As I get dressed, I glance at my sketch of Romy, which I’ve stared at so many nights while I’m on the phone with her. I walk over to it and brush her cheek, fragile hope mixing with determination inside me. When she said she was leaving, it gutted me. But did she do it because she doesn’t want me to meet her parents or because it’s too painful to stay? And if it’s too painful to stay, is that because of what’s happened with Alex—or because I’m not there for her when she needs me? Because she doesn’t think I care? Because she thinks I’m too fucked up to change any of it? She has so many reasons to stay away.

  It’s up to me to convince her not to.

  I drive to the hospital and get there over half an hour early for the meeting. They ring me in at the unit and let me go to Katie’s room. She’s wearing jeans and a sweatshirt and looking a little better. She hugs me when I walk in. “I’m really sorry about the razorblades,” she says against my shoulder. “I feel so stupid. I should have called my therapist as soon as I felt it all coming on, but instead I let myself buy them.”

  “You don’t have to apologize.” I give her a squeeze. “I need to talk to you, though.”

  “Okay.” She sits down on her bed, and I sit in a chair next to the window.

  “I love you, Katie,” I say. “You’re my sister, and you’ve always been incredibly important to me, even when we were far apart. I’ll always look out for you. Do you believe that?”

  She frowns. “Is everything okay?”

  I rub at the ache in my chest. “Could you just tell me if you believe it or not?”

  “I do, Cabe. I used to think you’d totally abandoned me, but I’ve realized it wasn’t your fault.” She gazes out the window. “You got the better foster family. You know that.”

  “I’m sorry it was so rough,” I say. “I wanted to stay with you. They couldn’t find a place for both of us.”

  “I know,” she says. “I wanted to go back to Mom. And she believed Phil. I knew she’d never forgive me if I accused him—I saw how she treated you, what she said about you, and I didn’t want her to do that to me. So I thought if I could convince people nothing had happened, maybe they’d let me go back.”

  My chest tightens at the thought of my mom, of how she chose the guy who hurt us instead of sticking by her kids. “But it happened.”

  Katie’s eyes meet mine. “It happened, Cabe,” she whispers, her eyes filling with tears. “But … it wasn’t your fault. You understand that, right?”

  I look away, staring out the window. “Katie—”

  “No, Cabe,” she says softly. “I know I blamed you. But you’re not the only one who could have told someone what was happening.”

  I turn back to her, stunned and amazed at her words. She’s giving me this scared-but-brave look as tears streak down her face, and I know she’s been working up to this for a while.

  I get up and sit next to her on the bed, putting my arm around her and letting her rest her head on my shoulder as she sobs quietly. An orderly looks in and sees that I’ve got her, and leaves us alone. “It shouldn’t have happened to either of us,” I tell her. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know what to do.” Now my eyes are stinging. “I thought I was choosing between getting us both killed by telling or staying silent and keeping us alive. I was so stupid.”

  “We were both kids, Cabe.” She sniffles, and I grab her a tissue. “He said the same things to me, and I believed him, too. I’m sorry I blamed you for so long. I feel like I destroyed our family.”

  I hold her tight. “You didn’t,” I say in a hard voice. “He did.” I snag another tissue and brush it over her cheek, softening my tone. “I feel bad that you still have to deal with so much. And that’s why I’m here for you.” We sit quietly for a few minutes, and I’m praying those words stick, that she doesn’t forget them as soon as I say what I came here to say. I take a breath and let it out. “I have to be honest with you about something.”

  She stiffens. “What?”

  I look down at her. “I have to be there for Romy, too.”

  “Oh.” She wipes her nose, hard enough to leave her upper lip a dark shade of
pink. “You’re still going out with her?”

  “I love her, Katie.” It’s the first time I’ve said it when someone else could hear. And it is so powerfully true that it steals my breath.

  She blinks at me. “That sounds serious.”

  “I want it to be serious. I want her to be around. I want to be good for her, because she’s definitely good for me.” That’s the understatement of the year. “And she cares about you, too.”

  Katie looks away. “She probably hates me.”

  “There’s no way she hates you.” I take her hand. “I wouldn’t be with someone who hates you.”

  “I hate her. A little, at least.”

  My stomach tightens. “Why? She’s never been anything but nice to you.”

  Katie’s cheeks turn pink. “Because you like to be with her so much.”

  Daniel was right. She is jealous. “It’s a different kind of love, Katie. No matter how much I love her, it won’t take away from my love for you.” In fact, I think I could bear it better if Romy were with me. “But I need to spend some time with her, or I’m going to lose her.”

  “And you don’t want to lose her.” She says it almost like a question.

  I make sure she’s looking me in the eye. “If I did, it wouldn’t be good.” I stare at her, silently begging her to understand.

  She gives me a weak, flickering smile. “Then I guess you should do your best to keep her,” she says, her voice breaking.

  We stay in her room until it’s time to go to the meeting, my arm around my sister, her head on my shoulder. We don’t talk; it’s too much right now. But when we get up to go to the meeting, she puts her hand in mine again, like she’s a little girl. I think she got frozen that way, so many years ago, like the ten-year-old Katie got stored on ice until it was safe to start to grow again. I hope she can do that, now that she’s actually dealing with the trauma she pushed down for so long.

  We gather in a small conference room off the unit—Dr. Prihadi, the unit psychiatrist, the social worker, her therapist from the partial hospitalization program, Amy, Katie, and me. The docs talk about her meds and the social worker talks about how she did last night. Her therapist explains that this kind of thing is expected, given the time of year and the kinds of things Katie is disclosing.