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“And then you met me,” I said.
“Yes, I met the most wonderful and patient man, who has never made me feel pitiful or weak. He tells me I am brave and smart and beautiful. He makes me laugh, and he makes me cry, too, but the crying is not his fault.”
“It’s not your fault, either, Brooke.”
“He makes me happy, makes me feel so safe, and is such a gentleman always—all-w-w-ways—”
She broke down and couldn’t say any more, so I just held her in my arms and drew my hand over her hair for a long time, imagining a world where there were no fucking lunatics like Marcus Patten, and no innocent young girls being terrorized without hope of escape, and nobody to help them.
How could she think that anything she’d just told me would alter my feelings? The things she’d just shared were all nonissues for me. Only the old New England society into which I’d been born kept track of any of that shit. It wasn’t the 1890s anymore for fuck’s sake. I’d lived in that superficial world for so long, it took Brooke bringing me into the real one to even realize it existed. I had some work to do, but there were good ideas rolling around in my head now. I would figure it out, but most of all I would be patient, because time was what Brooke needed.
I turned to the side to find her lips. She needed to be kissed for a very long time . . . and cherished, to help her remember she was once whole and could be so again.
When I kissed her, she came to life in my arms.
Like Sleeping Beauty in the fucking fairy tale, my beauty came to life in my arms.
Brooke
His weekender bag open on the floor was the first thing I saw when I woke up alone in my bed the next morning. Caleb hadn’t packed his bag and left me. He was still here, somewhere, as daylight blasted in through the slits in the shutters.
And I was still pinching myself.
Caleb was so unlike Marcus. He was also unlike any man I had ever known. He was patient and so very considerate, and he listened. Caleb was the most attentive listener. He never made me
feel like he was sorry for me, either. He went out of his way to tell me I was brave or smart. He saw things in me I didn’t see in myself, and now that I’d had a taste of his good opinion, I wanted more of it. So much more. Caleb would give me the world if I let him.
Could I possibly let him?
I pushed my face into the pillow he’d slept on and tried to catch his scent. It was definitely there, the notes of earthy spice I’d come to associate with him mixed with the unmistakable scent of sex. Lots of sex. I imagined how he must have looked while he’d been sleeping soundly in my bed: no doubt sporting some sexy bed head, the big body and long limbs that’d been all over me last night at rest and relaxed, his steady even breathing softly filling the silence.
I knew there had been a shift since last night, and it was a big one for me.
The picture of Caleb in my mind spoke of loyalty and strength.
I was now more afraid of losing him than I was of loving him.
I would be smiling when he first laid eyes on me this morning, I decided as I got out of bed and headed into the shower. He should have smiles coming from me, especially after the dreadful row and the things I’d said to him last night. Why had he made love to me so sweetly after hearing everything? Why did he want to be in my world? What man would sign up for the train wreck that was surely going to be life with me?
Unless . . . he’d meant it.
I’d never known that sort of love. Never known unconditional, fearless love. Apart from Nan. But from a man? Was it really possible?
There was something to be said for unburdening one’s biggest fears, because I did feel so much lighter in my heart today. If he truly did love me, after what he now knew, then at least I could believe for him . . . it was real.
I went out through the back and headed for the high coastal plain. Maybe a little pixie was whispering into my ear that he was outside, looking over the land, and I might possibly find him there. Caleb didn’t waste words. I have the means to make it happen. Watch me. He said exactly what he intended, so I wondered—I even dared to hope—if he really was going to come and be in my world with me.
I texted him.
B: Where are you?
C: I’m still here, baby. Do u miss me?
B: Always. <3
C: Where are u?
B: I’m at the grassy rise behind the cottage.
