by Mila Ferrera
Amy looks startled. “What … what’s she disclosing?”
The therapist looks startled, too, and turns to Katie. “I’m sorry. You said you’d told your family.”
“I told Cabe,” she says. “But he already knew.”
Amy stares at me, and it looks like she’s going to throw up. “You weren’t lying?” she whispers, quiet and jagged.
“He wasn’t,” Katie mumbles.
I glance at Katie, who’s moved closer to her therapist, seeking safety. “I never lied, Amy.”
Amy’s eyes fill with tears. It happens so fast that they’re spilling down her face before we can get the box of tissues across the table. “Oh, Katie,” she says in a choked voice. “Oh my God.”
The therapist, a lady with graying blond hair, leans forward. “Katie’s been working very hard on all these things in our program. It takes a lot of courage to come to terms with what happened to her.”
Her tone is all warning—don’t make this harder. Amy manages to get the message. She nods as she holds the tissues to her face, hiding her eyes as she tries to compose herself.
This is what I wanted to happen, and I feel grimly triumphant as I watch my older sister struggle with a truth almost too painful to bear. I needed her to hear this from Katie, because maybe she’ll be able to stop blaming me. Maybe it will make her more willing to help.
I sit quietly as the professionals talk about discharge dates, and then I clear my throat. Here we go. “I need the team’s help in making a plan for the few days before Christmas.”
Katie folds her arms across her body and nods. I can tell it isn’t easy for her, and I give her a grateful smile before I say, “I’m going to go out of town with my girlfriend for two days.” Assuming I can change her mind about leaving without me. “Morning of the twenty-third to the afternoon of the twenty-fourth. I’ll be back for the evening and Christmas Day, but Katie will need support while I’m gone.”
“We have our on-call service in place,” says Dr. Prihadi.
The therapist puts her hand on Katie’s shoulder. “And you know you can call the emergency hotline.”
Amy meets my gaze. “Katie can stay with me,” she says. She turns to Katie. “If you want to?” She wipes her nose and smiles. “I think the boys would love that. And you guys can have Christmas Eve at our place.” She sounds scared to death.
I sag a little in my seat as they all start to chatter about the plan for Katie, a plan to keep her out of the hospital if at all possible, a way to keep her safe under any circumstances. I help when it comes to thinking of all the ways this might be hard for Katie so we can plan for how to support her, and how to guide Amy if she doesn’t know what to do. Amy seems nervous, but she’s in it for the first time ever, and I’m so thankful.
It feels like a huge weight is lifting off of me. It’s not Katie—she’s not a burden. She’s my family and always will be. But her needs are intense, and I can’t be the only one trying to meet them anymore. Not if I want to have my own life. Not if I want to be the kind of boyfriend Romy deserves.
I kiss Katie goodbye and walk out to the parking lot with Amy. Wet flakes of snow have started to drift down from the sky. We’re supposed to get a few inches tonight. Amy’s quiet until we reach my truck.
“I’m sorry I never believed you,” she says. “I wondered. So many times. Phil is such a …” She shakes her head. “But Katie kept denying it, and Mom said all these things about you—”
“We don’t have to do this right now, Amy.” I so don’t want to hear what my mom thinks of me. That’s a deep wound best opened on another day. “I’m really grateful you came today. I know it wasn’t easy.”
She touches my arm. “I’m going to do what I can, Caleb. I know Romy is important to you.”
I kick the edge of the truck’s front tire. “She is. I’m not actually sure I’ll be able to convince her to take a chance on me after everything that’s happened.” I pull my keys from my pocket. “But I’m sure as hell going to try.”
Chapter Twenty-nine: Romy
I finish packing and set my suitcase by the door. I’m leaving early tomorrow morning, and I don’t want to be shoving stuff in a bag at the last minute. I take a shower, put on some cozy fleece PJs, and heat up a bag of microwave popcorn. Caleb said he’d be over tonight, so I should have a few hours until—
Someone knocks. I peek through the peephole and my heart instantly speeds. With shaking hands, I open my door. His dark hair is pulled back, wet flakes of snow still melting between the strands. He looks me up and down as I remember I’m wearing pajamas that make me look like I’m ten years old. I had planned to change before he got here.
“I know I’m early,” he says. “But can I come in?”
I open the door wide. I don’t know what to say. So many things are clogging my thoughts, exhilaration, craving, fierce love, piercing sadness. He stands next to the kitchen table, his gaze lingering on my suitcase. “Do you … want some water or something?” I ask.
“No.” His wolf-gray eyes are eating me up. “How was the arraignment?”
“Short. He pled guilty after Eric showed Alex’s lawyer surveillance footage of Alex pounding on my car. I have no idea how Eric managed to get it—it only happened yesterday.”
Caleb’s hand clenches over the back of one of my chairs. “Is Alex out on bail or something?”
I shake my head. “The judge gave him thirty days for criminal contempt.”
“That’s it?” His jaw tightens.
“It’s all they can do. But the personal protection order will be in place when he gets out, and if he does this again, he’ll do a much longer sentence.”
He lets out a breath, still looking unhappy. “He was following you, wasn’t he? Why didn’t you tell me?”
I rub my arms, fighting the chill that comes with the memory of seeing the flash of winter sun off the red hood of Alex’s car. “Caleb, you’ve been dealing with so much—”
“Do you have any idea what it would have done to me if he’d hurt you?”
I have a sense, only because I remember the raging protectiveness I felt that night Caleb was hurt so badly. “I wasn’t thinking about that,” I admit. “I didn’t want to worry you over nothing.”
His eyes go wide. “Nothing? I’ve seen what that guy can do. I know how dangerous he is. And you’ve been dealing with it for—how long has it been, Romy? Since Thanksgiving? Before that?”
I turn away, needing to escape from the rough edge in his voice. “I don’t want to fight with you,” I say, my voice breaking.
He touches my arm. “I’m sorry,” he says, the edge gone. “I … need you to help me sort something out.”
“Okay.”
“And I need you to be honest.”
“All right.”
“You said you were leaving, and I’m assuming that means I’m not coming with you.” He’s quiet for a few seconds. “You’ve been having second thoughts about … us?”
I turn back to him. “Yes.”
He swallows. “And was that because you … because I …” His fists clench, and it makes me want to kiss him, how hard he’s searching for his words. “Are you embarrassed to be with me? I know my life is a mess, and—”
“What?” I laugh. “No.” He’s making it easy to be honest. It’s never occurred to me to be anything but thrilled that he was standing next to me.
“But you don’t think I’m strong enough to be there for you. To give you what you need.”
“Catherine needs you, Caleb.”
“I know,” he says evenly, like he expected me to say it.
“I didn’t want to make you feel like you had to choose.” My chest is getting tight. “You wanted to be close to her for so long, and you were finally getting that, and she said that if you went with me, it meant you didn’t love her—” The tears sting my eyes. “I didn’t want to be the cause of drama in your life. I didn’t want you to lose that closeness with her.”
“So you though
t you’d hide what you were going through?” he says, frustration creeping in again. “You thought that would be easier for me?” He watches my face. “You did.” He chuckles, but there’s no humor in it. “Of course you did. I walked away yesterday. I’ve walked away from you so many times.”
“It’s not your fault. It’s a big job, keeping Catherine safe, and I know why you’re doing it. I don’t want you to have to worry about me on top of all of that.”
He steps back, his arms rising in agitation. “I want to worry about you! You pushed me away—you wouldn’t let me—you didn’t tell me—” He presses his hands to either side of his head, like he’s trying to keep himself from exploding. He draws several breaths before letting his hands fall away. “You did this for me?” he finally says. “Pulling away, hiding what was happening with Alex, that was to protect me? Because from here, it feels like you didn’t think I was strong enough to be what you need or you didn’t trust me.”
I grimace and cover my mouth with my hand. I wanted to make it easier for him, but seeing the pain in his eyes tells me I did the opposite. “I didn’t want to demand that from you.”
“Why, Romy?”
“Because I love you!” I swipe tears from my face. “I love you, Caleb, and seeing you in pain kills me. The thought of having anything to do with you losing Catherine all over again made me feel terrible. Our relationship was so new, and you were finally getting your chance to be a family, and I knew I didn’t have any right to interfere.”
“You had every right to interfere!” he shouts. “You had every fucking right.” He comes toward me and grasps my shoulders. “Because I love you, too.”
His lips crash down on mine, and I throw my arms around his waist as he puts his hand on the back of my head and deepens our kiss. The sensation of him is overwhelming, the firm lines of his body, the warm scent of his skin, the merciless thrust of his tongue. I tangle my hands in his hair and feel him growing hard against me. After a few frantic, mindless minutes, he pulls away, nibbling my bottom lip before kissing the corner of my mouth. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you how I felt,” he says softly. “If you knew, if I’d been brave enough to say it, maybe you would have understood how important you are to me.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t trust you,” I say, leaning my head against his shoulder as he gathers me to him. “I trusted you with so much, but when it came down to Catherine and me, I didn’t want to know how it would end. I didn’t want—”
“You didn’t want me to choose her over you.”
I close my eyes. It sounds so incredibly selfish. “I didn’t want it to be a choice at all. I never wanted you to feel like it was, and I didn’t trust myself not to be selfish. That’s why I didn’t tell you about Alex, especially when I wasn’t sure he was actually following me. I didn’t want you to think I was trying to manipulate you. I thought it was better to keep it to myself.”
“Do you have any idea how much that hurt?” he whispers.
“I’m sorry.”
He takes my face in his hands and tilts my chin up. “Things have to change.”
“I think you’re right.”
“I want us to fix it. Together. I think it’s fixable.”
Hope soars inside of me. We’re standing in the ruins of something that had so much life, so much potential. “I’m willing to try.”
The corner of his mouth quirks up. “I had a talk with Katie this morning, and then I met with her treatment team, including Amy. I said some things that I needed to say. Some things I should have said a long time ago, maybe, but I never felt strong enough or worth enough to do it, until I met you.”
“What did you need to say?”
His gaze moves over my face, from my hair to my eyes to my lips. “That I love her and always will, but that I love you, too, and we’re going to have to figure that out. I can’t do it all by myself.” His fingers smooth over my hair. “Because I need you, Romy. I need you in my life. And part of what I need is to be what you need.”
“I care about Catherine. I don’t want my presence to be hard for her—”
“Everything is hard for her, Romy. You know that. But when she realized how much I was hurting without you, she told me I had to come after you. It scared her—I could see the fear in her eyes. But she’s trying.”
“I’m sorry.” I draw a shuddery breath. “I wish it didn’t have to be so painful for her.”
“It has to be this way, though. I was going to start resenting her if things didn’t change.” He gives me a light kiss, his lips lingering, closing his eyes as his expression relaxes. “So … we made a plan. Katie will be discharged on the twenty-second, as long as she’s stable, and she’ll go stay at Amy’s until Christmas Eve. And that means, if you wanted me to come to your parents’—”
“I do. I’m sorry I made you doubt that.” I wrap my arms around his neck and he hugs me so tight that I’m lifted off the ground. “But I also want things to get better when we come back.”
“Me, too. So I want you to understand a few things.” He leads me to the couch and sits down, then pulls me down to straddle him. “The first is that you have to be honest with me. You have to let me in. We can’t be one-sided, Romy. You’re not my therapist, and this isn’t about you taking care of me. It’s about us taking care of each other.”
I stroke his cheek, looking down at his handsome face. “I’ll try.”
He takes my face in his hands. “I’m strong enough. I can do this.”
My throat is so tight. I hate that I made him think I believed he was weak. “I know, Caleb. You’re the strongest person I know.” I lay my forehead on his. “It’s why I ran to you yesterday. You were the place I felt safest.”
He closes his eyes, like it was what he needed to hear. “All right,” he says. “Then the other thing you have to understand is that I need you.” He grasps my hips and slides me toward him, awakening every nerve ending. “And that I want you. Always. I do have to be there for Katie sometimes, but—”
I tilt my head back as he nuzzles my neck. “I shouldn’t assume that means you don’t want to be with me. Got it.”
“Mmm. But I don’t want you to assume anything. If you need me, say so. If you need to hear me say how I feel about you, ask.” He nips at my throat, and it creates a chain reaction, lighting me on fire. “I’ll be happy to explain. And if I don’t have the words, I’ll draw you a picture.”
I bow my head over his and kiss him fiercely, grinding my hips against him. I love feeling him, hard and ready beneath me, and knowing I did it to him. “I can do that, Caleb, but you have to do the same. You assumed I didn’t tell you what was going on because I thought you weren’t strong. You were worried I didn’t want to take you to my parents’ house because I wasn’t proud of you.” I kiss the tip of his nose, his jaw, his chin, the smooth spot between his eyebrows. “Because I am so proud of you. And so in awe of you. And so grateful you want me to be in your life.”
He blinks fast and lowers his head, resting it against my shoulder. “You twist me up, Romy,” he whispers. “It’s almost painful.”
I rest my cheek on the top of his head, so full of relief and joy that I can barely contain myself. “I love you, Caleb. And I’ll happily untwist you if you give me a few hours.”
“I can give you a lot more than that.” He lifts my wrist and pushes my sleeve up my arm. Out of difficulties grow miracles. Slowly, he brings the inside of my wrist to his lips, sending tingles of pleasure along my skin. “You made me believe this, Romy.”
His eyes meet mine as he kisses his way up my inner arm. He makes me feel weak and strong at the same time, vulnerable and invincible. He has my heart, but I know I have his, and that makes me feel like we could do anything.
I raise my arms and let him lift my shirt over my head, smiling at his intake of breath, gasping at his hands on my body. “So that leaves one question.”
He’s busy slipping his fingers beneath the waistband of my pants. “What’s that?”
“Who gets to be in control tonight?”
He pulls me against him, trailing his fingertips up my back, making me shiver with anticipation, with excitement, with the intensity of my love for him. “Let’s feel our way through it together.”
And that’s exactly what we do.
Acknowledgements
Many thanks go to the team at New Leaf Literary, for all their wisdom, energy, and patience: Danielle Barthelle and Jaida Temperly most especially. I’m endlessly grateful to Kathleen Ortiz for her guidance in all things from revisions to strategy. My beta readers give me both kicks-in-the-pants and encouragement that I need, so thanks to Anne-Marie Bora, Justine Dell, Jaime Lawrence, and Stina Lindenblatt. My phenomenally talented cover designer, Jennifer Rush, knocked it out of the park with this one, so massive gratitude goes to her. And of course, to my family--who keeps me afloat and tolerates me even when I’m grumpy and confused by the real world—I love you, and without you all of this would be meaningless.
SPIRAL
Here’s a sneak peek at Mila Ferrera’s first New Adult novel:
Always do the thing that scares you. That’s the way to break out of a cage of your own making. My father used to say that all the time. He died back when I was fifteen and left me with a lot of bad memories and a genetic dark cloud hanging over my head, but his mantra’s what I’ve chosen to keep for myself. It gives me a bit of courage when I need it most.
Like right now.
The automatic doors to the Pediatric Oncology unit swing wide, and I force myself not to hesitate on the threshold. I push back a stray tendril of hair that falls across my cheek again a second later. I wobble a bit on the heels I bought over the weekend in the hopes of looking professional … and just a bit taller. I smooth my skirt and make sure the nametag that hangs from the lanyard around my neck is facing outward. It’s my first week of internship—the final year of training I need to get my PhD in clinical psychology—and my first day on this rotation. My nametag is the only way I can prove I’m actually supposed to be here.
