by Kahlen Aymes
It was the worst mistake of my life. The worst thing I’ve ever done.
Over the years, I tried to make amends in ways you are not even aware of, and others you didn’t agree with. I can only hope someday you will come to see that most of what I’ve done, even marrying Veronica, I did, because I thought you needed a family. I thought she would be kind, and her presence, along with Wren’s, would bring some happiness back to your life. Looking back, I know at least one thing good came out of it. Wren.
I know I was wrong to force my will on you to go to Boston, but at the time, you were reckless and spiraling out of control. I wanted you to have a good life, and guide you along a better and more stable path. I feared that the crowd you ran with would influence you in a destructive direction. Right or wrong, I wanted to separate you from that possibility.
You are a far better man than me, and it’s obvious you love more selflessly than I am capable of. I should have let you live the life you wanted, and trusted you to take the right path. I had no right to stand in your way.
I understand that you may be angry to hold the responsibility I am placing in your hands, but I hope you can see that this is my way of proving my faith and trust in you. Finally.
No matter what you decide to do, I want you to be happy. I am proud to call you my son.
Love,
Dad
Caleb’s whole body was shaking as he finished reading his father’s last words to him. His eyes burned with unshed tears, his throat ached, and he felt like two steel bands wrapped around his chest, preventing him from breathing normally.
What the fuck? He waits until it’s too late to say this?
Wren had been so tired she slept through dinner, and afterward, Caleb managed some time alone when Macy had to take a call from her firm. He retreated to his father’s library, grateful for her distraction so he could read Edison’s second letter.
He was in shock at its content, but still he was overwhelmed with emotion. Caleb wasn’t sure if the explanation inspired forgiveness, or only made him more pissed off at his dad.
How dare he do what he did, then act like a whiny bitch instead of a man? A man, who should have been strong for his dying wife, and for his son.
Did he think Caleb could just forgive him so easily? Did he think a few words on a page would change the years of hatred and resentment? Was Caleb supposed to thank his lucky stars for this huge fucking “gift”?
Rather than make his life easier, it shifted the weight of the world onto his shoulders. Was he supposed to be grateful? And, what about Wren? Did Edison Luxon even give one fucking thought to what this could do her life? What if she didn’t want any of it?
Caleb tried to take a deep breath, but was only partially successful. His lungs felt rigid and resisted his effort as the words on the page blurred. Goddamn him!
“What is that, Caleb?”
Macy’s voice sounded from somewhere behind where Caleb sat on one of the leather sofas and she startled him. He jumped slightly, and then quickly began to fold the letter back up, not wanting her to see it.
“Nothing.” His voice thickened with emotion.
“Is it from your dad?”
Nothing annoyed Caleb more than redundant questions. Who else would it be from? When he didn’t answer, Macy pressed him.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” He cleared his throat, still holding the folded piece of paper in his right hand.
“Caleb, why won’t you talk to me?”
“Why? What good would it do? It won’t change anything.”
“True, it won’t bring your father back, but it might help you work through your feelings.”
Caleb huffed. “I don’t know what I’m feeling. It’s personal. Why do you want to know, anyway?”
He was agitated with the conversation as he refolded the letter, and folded it again; small enough to shove into the back pocket of his jeans.
Jonesy’s worry about Wren had dominated the conversation over dinner and echoed his own. He’d been preoccupied all evening, while Macy’s displeasure had been written all over her face on the couple of occasions that he’d voiced his concern. He should be grateful for her softer tone now, but he only wanted to be alone. If Wren wasn’t here, then alone was the next best thing.
He wished the few minutes he managed to himself would have lasted longer and Macy hadn’t tracked him down to start pelting him with a barrage of questions.
“You’re so distant. I don’t like it,” Macy continued, using one hand to pull through her long dark hair, now loose from the bun she’d worn it in earlier. Caleb wondered if she really gave a shit or she was bored out of her mind and just going through the motions.
The letter left him raw, and conjured up feelings toward his father he didn’t even realize still existed. Regret at the lost time and relationship they could have had, sure, but he was royally pissed at the same time. Turmoil had him all screwed up on the inside, and Macy’s nagging was the last thing he needed.
There were a few seconds hesitation before Caleb retorted, anger lacing his voice. ”That’s unfortunate, but not really a consideration.”
Macy was stunned for a beat, but then huffed in frustration. “Wow. That was a dick thing to say. I’m trying to help you, Caleb. I just want to make you feel better.”
Caleb had regret that his words may have hurt her, but then realized coming here was her own choice. He didn’t ask her to join him. “There’s nothing you can do, and I said; I’m fine. I have a lot to deal with, and I’m just preoccupied with everything that needs to be done. I told you not to come out here. There are some things that I have to do on my own.”
“Caleb,” Macy forced her voice to grow softer and more sympathetic even though his words pissed her off. She had no intention of doing anything to alienate this man. He was strong and beautiful, intelligent, and now to find he was heir to a huge cosmetic brand she’d used for years; made him close to surreal. She should have put two and two together. His last name, Lux Cosmetics; his hometown of Denver, the company being headquartered there; she couldn’t believe she didn’t figure it out before this.
Maybe she could convince him to give up his silly automotive venture and travel the world with her. Now that he was loaded, why would he want to work his ass off starting a brand new company from the ground up? “I thought we were close enough that you’d lean on me. You don’t have to be strong all the time.”
Caleb grimaced and huffed in agitation. “That’s who I am.”
He felt like his insides were about to explode. He didn’t like Macy pressuring him to talk about things he was still trying to reconcile in his own mind. And, if he were honest, she didn’t seem sincere. She was just digging for information he had no intention of sharing.
What was upsetting him? he wondered. Was it Macy’s prying, his father’s death, or the major decision hanging over his head? Was it Wren being in such close proximity, or the fucking letter? Maybe, it was all of it.
He felt something, but he couldn’t really categorize it. He was pensive, anxious, his chest felt tight, but he was still trying to get his head around everything, and up to this point had been pretty much numb. He shook his head. Nothing had changed from ten minutes earlier, so why was he struggling? Sure, Edison Luxon had sired him; so what? He hadn’t been anything like a father for many years. Why should the small act of dying change anything? Why should a few paragraphs scrawled on a page make a difference?
“I know, but—” Macy began, but Caleb cut her off.
“You don’t know anything about how I feel, Macy.” He didn’t say it to hurt her, but it was the truth, and he wasn’t in the mood to sugar coat anything. “You’re clueless about my father and my life growing up.”
Anger reared inside Macy. Caleb was being an asshole and she wanted to tell him so. The problem with that was that it might drive a bigger wedge between them and that didn’t suit her agenda. She tried to calm herself.
“Why don’t you tel
l me, then? I know you have to be sad. Even if you hated him, he was still your dad.”
“An unfortunate fact I had to come to terms with long ago. DNA doesn’t make someone a father. He’s dead; there’s no use crying over someone who stood in the background of my life except when he was trying to make me miserable. Dying might be the biggest favor he’s ever done for me.” It was a sad reality, and Caleb’s defensive anger at the letter he’d just read was fresh. “So no. I don’t have to be anything; least of all sad.”
“Oh, Caleb. That sounds sort of pitiful.” Now Macy’s voice sounded sad, but Caleb just shrugged and leaned forward to lean his elbows on his knees.
Pitiful. The word made his blood boil. What the hell did she know about it? He needed a drink, but he didn’t’ want to start drinking with Macy. He could use alcohol to relax, and then follow with a leisurely fuck with a willing woman, except he found he had zero desire to be close to Macy tonight.
Caleb shrugged, hoping she’d drop it and leave him alone. “It is what it is. Go to bed. I need some time alone.”
***
UPSTAIRS, IT WAS DARK when Wren awoke; well past 10 PM. She bolted up in bed, frantic that she’d missed dinner, and quickly leaned over to snatch her phone off the bedside table so she could check the time. The last thing she wanted was to be disrespectful to Jonesy after she’d cooked the meal, or Caleb, by seeming like she was unfeeling or insensitive to his pain over Edison’s death.
“Oh my God! Really?” she said to herself, dropping her phone and then scrambling from the bed to throw on a pair of jeans and the one long sleeved T-shirt she had packed. She rushed into the ensuite bathroom to look at her appearance. She was rumpled, her face was red on one cheek where she’d slept on it, and her blonde hair was a snarled mess.
She wasn’t sure if she’d find anyone still around, or if she’d even be able to apologize for missing dinner. It was hours beyond when Jonesy said the food would be ready. The skin of her cheek felt hot as she touched it, and then dropped a tube of moisturizer on the vanity in her haste; it knocking a powder compact, three eye shadows, and an assortment of other make-up to the tile floor in a loud clatter.
“Ugh!” she moaned.
The blush compact fell open and shattered on the tile, sending chunks of the now broken pink powder all over the floor, and puffs of it into the air. Wren began to cough at the same time as frustrated tears welled in her eyes and batted at the offending particles that were trying to make their way into her lungs. When she bent to clean up the mess, the wad of toilet paper she’d grabbed to do the job only smeared it around more.
She felt like bursting into tears. The last thing she wanted was to let Caleb down. Considering the time change, Jonesy would understand her missing the meal, but there was no excuse for not being awake to offer her support to Caleb. Whether he’d want it or not, she wasn’t sure, but even if he rebuffed her, she had to at least try.
Wren threw the paper into the toilet, and stood to stare at her reflection in the mirror again as the cloud of dust cleared. She sniffed, grabbed a toothbrush and quickly brushed her teeth, then ran a quick brush through her hair. Makeup would have to wait; she’d already wasted enough time.
Slipping out of her room, she quickly rushed down the hall. On her way down the stairs, she could hear voices coming from Edison’s study. One she didn’t recognize and one she dreamed about on many lonely nights. One she loved more than anything.
“Caleb.”
A woman’s voice made Wren’s foot pause; her downward descent on the stairs halted.
Surely this was the woman Jonesy had referenced that afternoon; Macy. She sounded very sophisticated with a level of polish Wren never dreamed of attaining. Without even laying eyes on her, it was obvious Macy was expensive with a haughty air. It came through in her tone.
Wren had traveled the world and met some amazing people, but she knew she didn’t possess that type of sophistication. She was a prima ballerina with one of the premier ballet companies in the world, yet in her own heart she was still just a girl who danced.
“I said; I need to be alone. Why can’t you respect that?”
Wren’s breath left her body at the subtle hint of anguish in Caleb’s tone. He hid it well, and anyone who knew him less wouldn’t catch it.
She hadn’t heard his voice in person for a couple of years, and now it was a combination of resignation and defeat. Her heart squeezed painfully inside her chest. It was almost like he was physically touching her, pouring his pain into her. Wren found herself sinking down to sit on the stairs, mid-flight. Her hands came up to slowly wind around the spindles of the ornate railing, unable to stop from listening. However, nothing followed but an uncomfortable, dead silence.
Powerless to do anything else, Wren stood up and continued toward the study entrance, moving slowly; her bare feet making no sound on the polished marble floor. Peeking in through the open door, she could see Caleb sitting on one of the sofas; his back to her. Wren felt as if a lightning bolt jolted through her at the sight of him. She’d missed him more than she could deny.
He was leaning forward as he sat; unmoving. A sleek brunette was perched next to him, rubbing back and forth on his back.
His demeanor was stiff, unwilling to accept any comfort from the woman Wren barely noticed. Her eyes were trained on Caleb’s back and bent head, the material of his white dress shirt stretched tight across his arms, shoulders and back.
Macy scooted closer to him as Wren appeared in the doorway to the room hesitating to interrupt, but unable to move or rip her eyes away. Her heart was beating so hard she could feel the pulse throbbing in her neck and wrists, her chest was ready to burst, and her breath caught in her throat.
“I want to comfort you, babe,” Macy said suggestively. “Make you forget about everything for a while. Come to bed with me.”
Macy’s arm slid around Caleb’s shoulders and Wren almost turned to return to her rooms. This was a private scene, and one that hurt to watch.
She stopped and stifled a gasp when Caleb visibility stiffened, and abruptly stood up. Running an impatient hand through his thick dark hair, he shrugged the woman off. Wren’s heart leapt at the site, and she longed for him to turn so she could see his handsome face. She was drawn to him, hungry for the sight of him, yet her feet were frozen; unable to move as she watched him from across the room.
“Please, don’t! I feel claustrophobic when you do that, Macy! I don’t want to be touched! Having your arms around me right now makes me feel like I’m in a fucking cage!” He took a few steps forward and then turned, wanting to shout that he didn’t know her well enough to dump his entire life of bottled up emotions on the floor, but within the course of one split second his eyes landed on the slight form of the woman in the doorway. His heart and mind recognized her right away and he stopped dead.
His stomach dropped as his brain connected the image of the long blonde hair, beautiful face, and sad expression; Wren’s eyes were wide as she stared at him.
“Wren.” The word fell from his lips softly, and as if against his will. Caleb started moving toward her.
Macy’s head snapped around instantly to search for the source of Caleb’s attention.
The moment Caleb said her name, tears started to flow and Wren’s feet were flying as she ran to meet him halfway. Caleb caught her up in a tight embrace, and her arms wound around his shoulders as he pulled her close against him.
There was no stopping his reaction, and no thought that Macy was watching; she may as well have disappeared.
Caleb held Wren in a crushing embrace. His strong arms held her tightly to his chest and her arms locked around him. He smelled amazing; just like she remembered, and he felt like home.
“Oh, my God, Wren.” Caleb’s voice caught as he felt her start to shake against him, his body absorbing her racking sobs.
Wren buried her face in his neck as he lifted her off the ground further into his embrace, unable to keep the torrent of emotions at bay.
“Oh, Cale. I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry, Cale.”
Wren wasn’t sure if she was expressing sympathy because of Edison’s death, or pouring out all of the apologies needed to make everything okay between them.
Caleb’s arms tightened again, his heart soaring at the sound of her voice; saying his name as only she said it. He wanted to get closer as if contact between them would be the balm he needed. Wren was the one person who knew him better than anyone ever could, a source of comfort like no one else, and he didn’t want to let her go.
His heart swelled and fell at the same time, his pain intensifying and easing simultaneously, and his tears began to fall like rain, the dam of his pain finally bursting. He cried hard, and Wren’s heart shattered like glass.
“Cale,” she said brokenly.
He was overwhelmed with emotions as he held her, unable to quell his violent reaction. “Oh, Wren. I’m so glad you’re here.” Caleb’s voice was tight, his throat felt swollen and his heart thumped heavily inside his chest. God she was tiny and it felt so good to touch her. “I didn’t know how much I needed you here.” Seeing her after so long, and the reality of his father’s death; the finality of it, and the too late declaration of fatherly love; finally hit him. His emotions over the letter he’d just read, and finally seeing Wren after so long collided, and the result was cataclysmic.
“My dad…” He cried into her shoulder, sinking to his knees on the fine Persian rug and bringing her with him. They literally melted together, both seeking and taking comfort from the other. “I never thought I’d feel this way.”
Wren’s voice broke on a sob as the two of them clung together in the center of the big, masculine room; both of them overcome with grief. “I know. I’m suh-sorry. Suh-sorry I fell asleep. I should have been with you.”
Caleb’s big hand moved from her back to cup the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her long blonde hair. “Hush. You’re here now.”
