by Rye Hart
“I wouldn’t?” I raised my eyebrows.
“Well,” He grinned. “At least not my PT sessions.”
His eyes darted down to where his dick was making a tent in the bedsheets. When he looked back at me, he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. I rolled my eyes and laughed. After all these years, he was still the same Caleb. Cocky as shit and not remotely apologetic for it.
“Not a chance,” I said. “I have to get ready.”
“You’re no fun.” He pouted as I ignored him and hurried into the bathroom.
It wasn’t easy to leave Caleb’s bed. He looked especially sexy in the morning. His hair was all over the place, and his eyes still held the shadow of his dreams. It was damn near impossible to pull myself away from him and get ready for my day.
Still, I knew I couldn’t shirk my responsibilities. My job was important and without it, I would lose all my health benefits as well as my opportunity to realize my full dream of being a licensed PT. After my diagnosis, that was something I couldn’t risk. As I brushed my teeth, staring at myself in the mirror, the reality of my situation sunk in all over again.
I spat out the toothpaste and rinsed my mouth, trying not to let fear overwhelm me. Spending last night with Caleb was exactly what I needed. I had finally put my worries aside and just relaxed. He took control and forced me to think about something other than my illness. It wasn’t easy at first. While we were at the bar, I kept glancing at Stephanie, wondering how the hell I would tell her the news. Caleb knew I was distracted and he spent all night trying to pull my attention back to him. Sitting in the car, I wanted to tell him the truth. The words were on the tip of my tongue, but I changed my mind. No matter how much I loved him, I just wasn’t ready to share this with him. Or anyone. Just thinking about telling my father was enough to make me break out in nervous hives. Part of me wanted to run away, to leave town, and seek treatment elsewhere.
Deep down, I knew that wasn’t an option. Not only would that destroy my father, but it wouldn’t be fair to Caleb. We’d been through so much together, and now I couldn’t turn my back on him. He wouldn’t understand. I would break his heart like he broke mine. No matter what I was going through, I knew I could never do that.
I finished getting ready quickly, eager to be away from Caleb so I could think. When he wasn’t around, I missed him fiercely. But when he was sitting next to me, I felt guilty for not sharing the truth with him. I felt like I couldn’t win. As I pulled my hair back into a ponytail, I opened the bathroom door and stepped into Caleb’s bedroom. He was no longer lying on his bed, and his crutches were gone. I frowned and went to look for him in the living room.
Before I made it to him, I heard his voice drifting into the bedroom. I stopped quickly when I could hear what he was saying.
“I lost the last bottle,” he said. “I’m not sure where it went, but I need a refill.”
He fell silent for a second.
“I know,” he said. “But Dr. McGee told me to call if I have any problems. The pain has been getting worse. I can’t ignore it anymore.”
He paused again, listening to the person on the other end of the phone.
“Today?” he asked. “Thank you. I’ll pick them up this morning.”
My heart was racing when I heard him hang up the phone. There was something about that phone call that didn’t sound right.
Taking a deep breath, I stepped into the living room just as Caleb came around the corner. He smiled and walked over to me, using his crutches for support.
“What was that about?” I asked.
“What?” He frowned.
“That phone call,” I said.
“Oh,” he said lightly. “I just lost my painkillers, so I called Dr. McGee’s office for a new bottle.”
“You lost them?” I asked suspiciously.
“Yeah.” He nodded.
I stared at him, waiting for him to explain further but he didn’t. I hadn’t seen Caleb take a single painkiller since he was discharged, not even during his physical therapy sessions. Still, just because I hadn’t seen it, that didn’t mean it wasn’t happening.
I felt my stomach tighten as I stared into his eyes, trying desperately to read his mind. As a PT, I’d been trained to recognize the signs of addiction, but with Caleb, I didn’t know where to begin. I knew him so well and yet the way he kept fidgeting made my suspicions grow.
“Are you sure you lost them?” I asked.
“What does that mean?” His eyes narrowed.
“It’s just a question,” I said.
“Yeah,” he said. “But why are you asking it?”
“It’s my job,” I said. “If a patient is showing signs of abusing prescription drugs, then I need to ask.”
“Are you fucking serious?” he scoffed.
“You don’t need to get defensive,” I said sharply.
“This is ridiculous,” he said. “I’m not abusing my pills, Tara. I’m in pain, and I lost the damn bottle. That’s it.”
“Okay.” I knew arguing was pointless.
We said our goodbyes and I left for work, still unsure of whether I believed him. Caleb wasn’t the type to lie, but if he really was abusing his drugs, then he wouldn’t just come right out and say it.
I wanted to believe him. As the day progressed, I felt guilty for accusing him. I wished I could take it back, but I didn’t want to apologize over the phone. He had a physical therapy session scheduled for that night, so I decided to wait and bring it up then.
He walked through the doors of the PT building at exactly seven o’clock. I smiled and walked quickly over to him, standing on my tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips.
“I see you aren’t mad at me anymore,” he said without emotion.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I was out of line.”
“Yeah, you were.”
He was still angry, but as we got into the session, his mood began to brighten. His muscle control was better than ever, and he was walking without the crutches more and more. I asked him to let go of the bars a few times, and he did amazing. He didn’t stumble a single time, but when we were finished, his face was contorted in a grimace.
“Are you in pain?” I asked, worried that I’d pushed him too hard.
“I didn’t get a chance to pick up my pills this morning,” he said. “I still can’t drive.”
My guilt worsened. It was obvious that Caleb’s pain was real. I felt like shit that I’d questioned him. I realized my worries were about myself and not him. I was scared about my cancer, and instead of dealing with it, I took it out on him.
“I’ll drive you,” I said quickly. “Come on. We’ll go right now.”
“Don’t you have to work?” he asked, glancing toward my desk.
I shook my head. “I can finish up in the morning.”
I handed Caleb his crutches and led the way to my car. Caleb slid into the passenger seat, and I tossed his crutches in the back. We drove through town toward the pharmacy. After we had his pills, I took Caleb home.
We lingered in my car outside of his apartment, neither of us saying a word. He was still mad at me for accusing him of abusing his painkillers, and I was still worried about my health. There was a giant wall between us, and nothing I did seemed to put a dent in it.
I turned to look at him. He was already watching me, his eyebrows pulled together and his forehead creased with concern. There were a million things I wanted to tell him, but when I opened my mouth, no words came out. He waited a few minutes, hoping I would say something. When I didn’t, he sighed and kissed me.
“I’ll see you later, Tara.”
“Goodnight.”
I watched him disappear inside his apartment, the door swinging shut behind him. It took me five minutes to drive away, and when I did, I instantly regretted it.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN - CALEB
My mother came over for breakfast the next day. She brought donuts and coffee and sat down at my kitchen table with a silly smile on her face.
> “You’re happy,” I said, reaching for a donut.
“Is that a crime?” she asked.
“Should be,” I said under my breath.
I was in a shitty mood after yet another confusing night with Tara. My physical therapy session went great. I kicked ass and managed to ignore the throbbing pain in my leg until it was completely over. Medically, I was doing fucking amazing. Personally, my life was in shambles.
I still didn’t know what the hell was going on with Tara. She continuously pulled me in and then pushed me away, and there was nothing I could do about it. After she accused me of abusing my drugs, I knew something was wrong. Whatever was distracting her so much was serious. I didn’t know why she wouldn’t just tell me instead of walking around with a huge chip on her shoulder.
“Coffee?” Mom asked, pushing a to go cup toward me.
“Thanks.” I raised the cup to my lips and took a long sip. It was scalding hot and burned my tongue, but I didn’t care. My head was too full of Tara to care about anything else.
“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong with you, or do I have to guess?” Mom asked boldly.
I looked up at her and sighed.
“How much do you want to know?” I asked.
“Everything,” she said.
“Bullshit. You don’t want to hear everything, Mom.”
“I do,” she said with a shrug. “But you can tell me whatever you want.”
I paused. Tara was a dangerous subject. My mother’s husband hated the idea of me being with his daughter. Darren would stop at nothing to keep us apart, and I couldn’t help but think my mom would feel the same way.
“I know you’re sleeping together,” Mom said, reading my mind.
“Did Tara tell you?” I asked, surprised.
“God no,” Mom laughed. “She’d never talk to me about that.”
“Then, how?”
“It’s obvious,” she said. “You two can’t be in the same room without staring at each other with sex eyes.”
“Mom.” I shuddered at her words.
“Well, it’s true,” she said. “So just tell me what’s going on.”
“I wish I could,” I said. I took another sip of coffee and shook my head. “I have no fucking idea what’s going on.”
“Language,” Mom said automatically, a warning in her voice.
“Sorry.” I sighed and continued. “One second, things are great. We’re totally connected, and everything feels like it used to. Then, she pulls away and won’t tell me why. I’ve asked her what’s going on, but she says it’s stress. I tried to believe her, but it’s bullshit. I know there’s more.”
“Do you think it’s Darren?” Mom asked. “I know he’s talked to her about you.”
“Darren says a lot of shit,” I said. “I ignore it, but I’m not sure it’s that easy for Tara. He is her father, and she cares what he thinks.”
“And you don’t?”
“No,” I said with a shrug. “Why should I? The man sent me to military school just to keep me away from Tara.”
“That wasn’t just Darren’s decision,” Mom reminded me. “You weren’t exactly headed down a great path back then, Caleb. We had to do something.”
“And if I hadn’t been seeing Tara?” I asked. “Would you still have chosen military school?”
Mom hesitated. Her eyes slid down to the table and then slowly moved back up to meet my gaze. I knew the answer before she gave it.
“No,” she said. “Honestly, no. I wouldn’t have.”
“Exactly.”
“That was ten years ago,” Mom said quickly. “Darren and I were scared for you and for Tara. We wanted to do what was best for everyone. Was it a mistake? Maybe. But it helped you straighten out. I mean, look at you now! You’re an entirely different person than you were back then.”
She was right. As much as I hated to admit it, military school worked. I straightened up. I fixed my life. Despite all that, the memory still stung.
“I think Tara’s afraid Darren will try something just as drastic this time,” I said. “She mentioned him before. She said she wasn’t sure she could be with me because of him.”
Mom sighed. “I’ve tried to make him see sense.”
“And?” I asked.
“Darren’s very set in his ways,” she said. “There’s not much I can say to change his mind.”
“What about you?” I asked. “What do you think about Tara and me?”
Mom’s eyes locked on mine. I could see the wheels turning in her head. She wasn’t the type to hold back her opinions, so I knew she would tell me the truth.
“My feelings are complicated,” she said. “I want you to be happy, Caleb. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. But I also want Tara to be happy. I know the two of you aren’t brother and sister. God knows I would never ask you to think of her that way. But I feel like she’s still my daughter. I didn’t give birth to her. I didn’t even meet her until she was sixteen, but I love her like my own.”
“So?” I asked, leaning forward. “What does that mean?”
“It means,” she said, sighing deeply, “if you both want to be together, then who am I to stand in the way? I love you, and I love Tara. If being together makes you happy, then I say go for it.”
I smiled and took a big bite of my donut. It was nice to finally hear my mother take my side over Darren’s. I could tell it was hard for her, but she did it. She truly didn’t care if Tara and I were together, so long as we both found happiness.
“I still don’t know what to do,” I said, shaking my head. “Tara has been so hot and cold lately. I’m beginning to wonder if it’s even worth it.”
“Do you love her?” Mom asked.
I jerked my head around at her question. It was a simple question, but my answer was anything but. I did love Tara. That much I knew. But my feelings were complicated. I didn’t know if the love I felt for her was current or a shadow of our past together; a memory that was better left alone.
“Yes,” I finally said. “I do love her, but what if that isn’t enough? What if we’re trying to hold on to something we felt ten years ago?”
“Is that what you think?” Mom asked.
“No,” I said honestly. “I think we could be amazing together. But she needs to think so too. If she doesn’t want this, I can’t force it on her.”
“You’re right,” Mom said. “You can’t force her to be with you, but you can fight for her.”
“How?” I asked.
“Make her tell you what’s wrong,” Mom said. “Push until she has no choice. Don’t let her hide away until it’s too late to make things work between you.”
“What if that just pushes her away even more?” I asked.
“It might,” Mom said, shrugging. “But you won’t know until you try.”
I nodded and fell silent. She was right. I couldn’t let Tara push me away without a fight. I had to at least try to make our relationship work.
There were times, when Tara and I were together, that I knew she loved me. I could feel it in the way she touched me. I could see it in her eyes when she looked at me. It was written in our kisses. She loved me, and I loved her. I wasn’t sure if that would be enough, but I knew she was worth finding out.
Whether Tara was hiding because of Darren or something else, I had to find out. I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t.
“Listen,” Mom said softly. She leaned forward to take my hand. “I’ve seen you and Tara together. I was there when you met her, and I watched you fall in love with her. It was dramatic and intense back then. But you’re an adult now. The two of you can make your own decisions. And honey, I can see how much you love her. It’s written all over your face.”
I smiled, and she squeezed my hand gently.
“Love like that,” she said. “It doesn’t just disappear. But it can fade if you stop fighting for it. If you let her shy away from things, or if you let her run, you’ll never know what could have been. You’ll spend your entire l
ife regretting the fact that you didn’t try. I know you, Caleb. You would never forgive yourself if you let Tara slip through your fingers.”
“I’ll talk to her,” I said firmly. “We’ll figure this out.”
“Good.” Mom smiled. “Don’t tell Darren this, but I’ve always secretly rooted for you two. Tara makes you different. She changes you for the better, and I’ve seen you bring her out of her shell. She was such a shy girl when we first met her, but you changed that. You’re good for each other.”
I hoped she was right. We finished our breakfast and Mom said goodbye. She had patients waiting for her at the hospital, and I had a busy day of doing nothing. I still couldn’t drive or walk very far without my crutches. The only thing I could do was think.
I thought about Tara endlessly, replaying my mother’s words in my head. After all these years, she had finally told me the truth. Despite how much Darren hated it, my mom always wanted Tara and me to be together. That, more than anything, drove me forward. It fueled my determination to make things work.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN - TARA
“Hey you,” Caleb said. He grinned as I walked inside.
“Ready for PT?” I asked.
“I thought maybe we could just do it here,” Caleb said, that grin still in place. “If you’re up for it.”
“I don’t have anything with me,” I said slowly. “We don’t have the bars or weights or anything.”
“It’s just one session,” Caleb said quickly. “What could it hurt?”
“A lot,” I said firmly. “Even missing one session could set you back in your recovery. I know how eager you are to get back to work.”
“All right, all right,” Caleb said. He sighed and raised his hands in defeat. “I’ll get my shoes.”
He walked slowly into his bedroom, using the wall for support. His crutches were leaning against the front door. I rolled my eyes when I saw them. He wasn’t supposed to walk without them, not even a few steps. At PT, it was different. I was there to make sure nothing went wrong but here? At his apartment? It was a huge risk.
“You need to use those,” I said when he returned, pointing toward the door. “Your crutches.”
