ALoveSoDeep
Page 4
They’ve lied about how much they knew about my relationship with Caitlin, but I assumed it was because she wasn’t the sort of girl they wanted me tangled up with. I know in my parents’ eyes—my mother’s, especially—a girl without a pedigree, and good standing at an Ivy League school, is beneath me. Deborah would see a girl like Caitlin as a weight that would drag me down, and Mom wouldn’t be above pretending not to remember her in the name of sending me back to college a free agent.
“Are you sure?” Caitlin asks, hurt in her eyes. “Because you don’t look like you believe me. You look like you think I’m crazy.”
“I don’t think you’re crazy.” I reach out, but she takes a step back before I can touch her, making it clear this isn’t something I’m going to be able to sweep under the rug.
“I promise, I don’t think you’re crazy,” I say in my most soothing tone. “But I am hoping there is some other explanation.”
“Like what?” Caitlin asks, shaking her head.
I lift my hands. “I don’t know. Just give me a chance to have a look around Darby Hill and see what I can find. I’ve looked through my parents’ emails before, but maybe I didn’t go back far enough, or—”
“You do that.” Caitlin cuts me off in the same cool tone she used with Aoife. “And if you can’t find anything, and decide to believe your parents have your best interests at heart, then…good for you. But I will promise you this…”
She glances toward the van where the kids are obviously trying to eavesdrop—they’ve left the van door open and are being quieter than they’ve been all day. She steps closer and lowers her voice. “The Gabe I used to know understood that his parents were horrible, and he did everything he could to be the opposite of the selfish, heartless people who raised him.”
“The Gabe you knew was also dying,” I say, frustration creeping into my tone. “I’m not.”
She’s quiet for a moment, but the steel in her eyes doesn’t waver. “Yes, the Gabe I knew was dying. But he trusted me with all the life he had left, and he would never have doubted my word. Not for a second.”
She turns and moves around the front of the van, moving so quickly I have to jog to, catch the door in my hand before she slams it. “So that’s it? You’re just going to run away?”
“I’m not running away. I’m taking the kids swimming.”
“Don’t play games,” I say, anger making my fingers press harder into the metal of the door. “I don’t know everything, but I know that’s not the way we were together.”
Her calm mask falters, but she doesn’t move to get out of the van. “Well…maybe we have further to go to get back to the way we were than we thought.”
“Maybe we do.” I brace my other hand on the warm aluminum of the window frame. “And maybe you’re going to have to meet me halfway.”
She lifts one pale brow. “Meaning?”
“I’m not on board for anything like what you told me about this morning,” I say carefully, aware the kids are listening. “I want to keep things on the level from here on out.”
Caitlin’s jaw drops and for a second I think I’ve rendered her speechless, but then she says, “You are a piece of work, Gabe Alexander. Only you could make me want to slap you the same day I think I’m going to die from happiness that you’re alive.”
She hauls on the door, and I let it go, wincing as she slams the door hard enough to shake the entire van. Before I can step away from the door, she shifts the vehicle into reverse and peels down the driveway into the street.
I stand, watching her leave with a nasty sinking feeling in my chest.
I clearly don’t know how to handle Caitlin Cooney anymore, but I sure as fuck don’t like watching her drive away.
CHAPTER FIVE
Caitlin
“Alas, I have grieved so I am hard to love.
Yet love—wilt thou?”
-Elizabeth Barrett Browning
By the time I get the younger kids into their swimsuits and down to the hotel pool, regret is swelling inside my stomach, making me feel like I’ve swallowed a balloon filled with poison.
He’s alive; that’s all that matters. He’s alive, and he wants to love me again. It’s every impossible dream come true, and I turned my back on it and drove away. I shouldn’t have left the way I did, no matter how much it hurt to listen to him defend the people who made the past year the most miserable of my life—and from a person raised by my mother and father, that’s saying something.
But Gabe’s been through hell, too, and lost pieces of himself through no fault of his own. He clearly doesn’t remember all the reasons why he used to loathe his parents. I, on the other hand, remember everything, and I owe it to Gabe to help him to the truth, to hold his hand as he pulls back the curtains and discovers all the dirty secrets Aaron and Deborah are hiding.
I call him from a deck chair by the pool, intending to apologize and ask him to come join us at the hotel, but I get a message that the number is no longer in service.
I hang up with a frustrated sigh. I should have known Aaron and Deborah wouldn’t let Gabe keep his old number. They wanted him to have a fresh start so badly they faked his death. Getting him a new cell phone number is nothing compared to the ashes, or the funeral invitation, or the official letter from their lawyer announcing that they were contesting Gabe’s will, and I wouldn’t be receiving the trust fund money he’d wanted to leave me anytime soon.
“You’re sure there’s nothing?” I ask Sherry when she calls from the hotel room, having graciously offered to do some recon online while I watch over the kids at the pool.
“I’ve looked through all the newspaper archives,” she says. “There was never any mention of Gabe’s funeral, or a memorial service, or anything. Not even in the society page, which is totally fishy since they like to document it every time the Alexanders take an interesting-shaped shit.”
I almost smile, but I can’t. “I can’t believe I didn’t notice last summer. I should have realized there was nothing official.”
“You got an invitation in the mail, that’s pretty official,” Sherry says. “Don’t you dare beat yourself up about this. There was no reason to think anything was going on except that the Alexanders wanted to keep their son’s funeral as private as possible. And that’s not that weird, considering he died so young. I mean…” She makes a frustrated, confused sound that I can empathize with. “Didn’t die. Jesus…what a crazy day.”
“I know.” I force a smile as Emmie waves to me from the diving board. “I still can’t believe it’s real. And I don’t know what was up with my dad.”
“You think the Alexanders paid him off?” Sherry asks. “Gave him some cash to keep quiet about Gabe being back from the dead?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know. Gabe said something similar, but it’s hard to imagine the Alexanders and my dad even having a conversation, you know? They might as well have been from different planets.”
“I hear you,” she says, hesitating a moment before she adds. “I’m just so sorry about all this, Caitlin. I keep thinking how everything would have been different if I’d stayed in Giffney. I know we didn’t run in the same circles, but I would have run into Gabe sooner or later. And then I could have called you and—”
“If I’m not allowed to get self-blamey, you certainly aren’t allowed to,” I say, cutting her off before she can go any further down that road. “And honestly, it would have been hellish to do this much sooner. Gabe said he only remembered my name in January, and even now he only has…pieces of our history. There’s so much he doesn’t remember.”
“But he loves you,” Sherry says. “You two are soul mates, Caitlin. That much was clear from the way you made out like the world was ending the second you laid eyes on each other.”
My cheeks heat for reasons having nothing to do with the August sun beating down on the Residence Inn pool. “Yeah, I bet Danny would be giving me shit about that if he weren’t giving me the silent treatment for fighting with
Gabe. He’s been in the exercise room this entire time watching Sports Center. He wouldn’t even look at me when I asked what he wanted for supper.”
“He’s as confused as the rest of us,” Sherry says. “Give him time. He’ll come around. Especially when I bring a pizza feast back to the room.”
“That reminds me.” I stand, stepping farther from the shallow end, where Emmie and Sean are playing Marco Polo. “Don’t get pizza from Isaac’s dad’s place, okay? I don’t want them to know we’re back. Isaac still thinks we’re on the Big Island on vacation.”
Sherry sighs. “I know. He’s texted me six times today, begging me to talk to you for him, asking if he can take a few days off from work and come meet us before we do the volcano hike. The poor guy is going to be devastated. He’s never going to believe you didn’t know Gabe was alive when you broke up with him, no matter how many times I’ll swear it’s true.”
“This is the same ‘poor guy’ who lied to us both, and said you thought I was headed off the deep end,” I remind her, feeling defensive.
“He could sense he was losing you, C. It was making him a little crazy,” Sherry says, more empathy in her voice than I would like. Fair or not, I want my oldest friend firmly on my side, even if she has been friends with Isaac almost as long. “Ever since we were kids, all he ever wanted was to live happily ever after with you.”
“With who he thought I was.”
“Well, that’s all we have, right? Who we think people are?” I can practically hear her shrug. “I guess Isaac kept hoping that if he believed in his version of you long enough and hard enough, you’d start to agree with him, the way I did with Bjorn.”
“It’s different.” Sherry’s boyfriend, Bjorn, is the man who finally convinced Sherry that she’s worthy of all the hearts and flowers.
Bjorn, a Norwegian pro-surfer who has lived in Maui half his life, thinks Sherry is brilliant, funny, beautiful without makeup, and the sweetest woman on earth. He seems ready to settle down and worship at Sherry’s altar, and Sherry feels the same way. I know she treasures the self-love and acceptance Bjorn has helped her find, but Isaac didn’t want to help me get in touch with something lovable about myself. He wanted me to change the parts he found unlovable, the unpalatable parts that are nevertheless an undeniable part of who I am.
“I know it’s different, but I understand why he kept trying,” Sherry says. “He fell hard for you when we were kids, and he hasn’t been able to put the old Caitlin to rest the way I have.”
“Right.” Pain flashes through my chest and I suddenly feel more alone than I have in months. Sherry’s never said anything, but I worry that she likes “old Caitlin” better than “new Caitlin,” too. When I still had the memory of Gabe’s unconditional love and acceptance to fall back on, I didn’t let other people’s opinions, even my best friends’, matter too much, but now…
Now, I’m not sure if Gabe is a fan of “new Caitlin,” either. The look he gave me when he talked about not being “on board” with killing anyone else made me feel like I was going to be sick. I wasn’t on board with killing anyone, either. It just…happened. And I dealt with the aftermath as best I could, while carrying the secret all alone.
And now I am still alone, and I will remain that way until the day Gabe remembers the “whys” behind the “whats”—if he ever does.
I push the panic-inducing thought aside. “I’ll bring the kids up in about thirty minutes. You want to order Dominos to be delivered to the room?”
“Sure thing,” Sherry says. “And hang in there, okay? You and Gabe are going to work things out. Just give him some time to catch up.”
“If he wants to catch up,” I mumble.
“Stop it,” Sherry says. “I refuse to tolerate any negative thinking. Gabe is alive, and you two are going to have your happy ever after, or I swear I’ll eat a pound of dog poop.”
“Gross.” I laugh, but it fades as soon as Emmie comes rushing over to get her hot pink water shooter from the pool bag.
I can’t even look at my niece without my stomach knotting. I can’t lose Emmie; I can’t let Aoife take her away. There has been too much water under the bridge for me to ever trust Aoife with a child I love.
Maybe if she had come back a few months after she left, when Emmie was sick with the flu, and I was home alone, terrified that my six-month-old niece was going to die of dehydration if I couldn’t keep fluids in her body. Or if Aoife had come home for Emmie’s first birthday, full of apologies, and begging me to go back to high school and complete my senior year one year late. Or maybe if she had just called a single damned time between the day she left, and the day she swept back in almost four years later. But she hadn’t called. She discarded Emmie like a toy she was tired of playing with, and it had taken her years to get around to showing interest in the baby girl she left behind.
Meanwhile, Emmie has grown into an amazing little person who Danny, Ray, and Sean love like a sister, and I would die for in a heartbeat. I love her with every fiber of my being, and I have to believe that kind of love—the kind that stays and loves through the hard times, when loving costs you in blood, sweat, and tears—is worth more than the picture perfect suburban life Aoife is offering.
“Especially since Aoife might get tired of that toy someday, too,” I say
“Still talking to yourself, I see.”
I sit up fast, spinning to see Gabe standing on the other side of the wrought iron fence surrounding the pool. As soon as my gaze meets his, I am filled with a profound sense of relief. In his eyes, I can see the same regret that has been poisoning my insides for the past few hours, the same longing to make this better, and find a way back to each other, no matter how many roadblocks stand in our way.
“Hey.” I stand, crossing the hot concrete in bare feet, not missing the way his eyes skim up and down my body, making me glad I slipped into my yellow bikini instead of my one-piece swimsuit.
For the first time since my last night with Gabe, electricity courses through my nerve endings making my blood rush and my belly flip and my fingers itch to fist in the course fabric of his white polo and rip it over his head, revealing the beautiful man beneath. I’m suddenly dying for another taste of his lips, for his Gabe smell swirling through my head, and his touch taking me higher than any drug. With just a look, Gabe can make me feel more than Isaac could with his hands all over my body. How could I have ever thought I could settle for less than that? Less than the rush I feel every time I’m in the same time zone as Gabe Alexander.
Gabe’s lips part as if he’s about to speak, but I don’t give him a chance. I close the last few feet between us, take his face in my hands, and pull his lips down to mine. For a moment, I’m aware of the rungs of the metal gate, hot and hard between us, but then there is only Gabe’s tongue slipping between my lips, Gabe’s fingers driving into my hair, pulling me closer, kissing me with a thoroughness that takes my breath away.
But who needs breath when there is a man who kisses me like I’m the most precious, irreplaceable thing in the world?
I kiss him until my head spins and my belly aches and heat pools between my legs. I kiss him until my hands are shaking and my knees are weak and all I can think about is how much I need to be alone with him.
“I don’t want to wait,” I whisper against his lips. “I know we should, but I want you too much.”
“Should is a stupid word.” Gabe’s hands fist tighter in my hair, holding me captive as he trails kisses down my throat, where my pulse is racing like a horse set free before a storm. “And waiting is for people who haven’t had a year of their lives stolen. I found what I was looking for on my father’s computer, by the way.”
“Yeah?” My breath rushes out, and I struggle to focus on his words instead of the delicious way he’s making me feel.
“It was in his trash,” Gabe says, lips moving against my throat as he speaks. “He apparently never empties it. There were files in there from three years ago.”
“Wha
t did you find?” I let my fingers play through his silky hair, over the scar that is thick and frightening, but beautiful because it is the reason he is alive.
“A memo to his secretary, Charlene, detailing all the things he wanted her to get together for the funeral,” Gabe says. “Apparently, they actually held the thing in the back parlor, on the off chance you decided to ignore Dad’s letter and show up.” He pauses, his breath rushing out over my skin, before he presses another kiss to my cheek. “You were right. My parents are out of their minds. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.”
I pull back far enough to look at him, not surprised to see hurt in his eyes. “I understand. And I’m sorry I wasn’t more patient. I know it can’t be easy learning your parents aren’t the people they pretend to be.”
Gabe nods ever so slightly and his eyes drop to my lips. “I’d rather not talk about Aaron and Deborah right now, if that’s okay.”
“What would you like to talk about?”
“I’d prefer not to talk at all,” he says, the heat in his voice sending a thrill rushing across my skin. “I’d prefer to take you to my father’s office and get my mouth between your legs. I remember that time on the couch, you know.”
“You do?” I ask, nipples tightening inside my bikini.
“I remember the way you came on my mouth, with your hands fisted in my hair, pressing my face closer to your body,” he says in a soft, silky voice that sends heat rushing between my thighs. “I remember that you tasted like peaches sprinkled with salt and that you let me stay between your legs and stare at your pussy while we talked after. Before I made you come again.”
My breath rushes out, but I find I can’t think of a thing to say.
“And I remember that yours is the prettiest pussy, my favorite pussy.” His thumb trails over my shoulder down my arm, making me shiver. “And I’ve been dreaming about getting my tongue—”
“Stop.” I take a step away from him, not surprised to find I’m trembling. “Don’t say another word, or I’m not going to be able to hold it together long enough to get the kids upstairs to the hotel room.”