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“Jolene.” Jake moves in front of me and tips up my chin. “The fact that you love him so much you’re scared to get hurt again says it all. That’s real, honey. That’s what the rest of us strive for. And you’re not alone in those feelings. Cal fucking cried tonight when I was there. I haven’t seen him shed a tear since that first week of WITSEC, and that was over you too. Holding a grudge over this will only hurt you both.”
I press my hand over my mouth. “He was crying?”
“Pathetic, right?”
I instantly want to break into a run. Race back to Cal and soothe him, promise him we’ll work through this. Be together forever. But what if I end up back here in a year or two? What if he’s upset because his plan to “help” me went south and he’s ashamed of his actions, not because he loves me as much as I love him?
“I accused him of being manipulative,” I say tentatively. “Of buying the building to win me back and make himself feel better about interfering in my life. He said he already knew he’d lost me when he did that. That he only wants me to be happy, even if it’s without him. Do you think he was being honest?”
Jake laughs under his breath. Laughs, like I’m not a freaking mess right now. “You lost a roommate five or so years ago, then the apartment building where you live now suddenly lowered the rent to an amount you could afford. Sandra mentioned it to Delilah, who mentioned it to you, right?”
I squint at him and lean away. “Should I be getting a restraining order? How the hell do you know all that?”
“Because that was Cal, Jo. Apparently, Sandra has worked for him for years. If she heard that someone he cares about was in a jam, she’d tell him. He used her to help out. Made some deal with your landlord to pay part of your rent. He helped get your truck fixed by flying parts halfway across the country. He sent your father a cookbook after his accident. Sent a donation and flowers when your aunt passed away, and has probably done a ton of other things he didn’t share. He’s been in your life, caring for you for twelve years, and never once told you about any of it. Why do you think that is?”
Because he didn’t do those kindnesses to boost his ego or ease his guilt.
Because he only wanted to see me happy.
Because I was always in his heart, even when we were apart.
And he got my dad that cookbook? The one that changed my life?
Those are four huge hints that my best friend has always loved me—selflessly. Unflinchingly. No matter our physical distance or emotional road bumps, he has put me first.
“I shouldn’t have run out on him like I did,” I say, calculating how quickly I can drive back to his place.
Jake shakes his head. “Don’t go back tonight. Let him stew over what he’s done. That meddler needs to learn his lesson. But you should come to our mom’s party tomorrow. We’d all love to have you there.”
He has a point about the stewing, and I could use a breather. A night to sleep off today’s roller coaster of emotions. I take Jake’s hand. “After everything with you and me, how are you still so kind and sweet?”
“Like I told you, all I want is for my family to be happy. You’re Cal’s happy.” His attention drifts back to Larkin’s door, his expression back to tortured. “And I’m not that kind and sweet.”
He leaves me, and I almost don’t take his advice. My body is wound up, ready to spring back to Cal. Instead, I imagine how it will feel to surprise him tomorrow. How good it will feel to sink into his arms and tell him the only place I want to be in this world is with him.
chapterforty-four
Callahan
Once upon a time, forcing cheer was my superpower. I could exude outward calm and contentment, no matter how unhinged I was inside. Today, everyone around me is buzzing with happy excitement.
Mom will be here soon. She has no idea her new home is packed with old friends eager to surprise her. I’m tucked against a wall, like a dehydrated plant wilting in the corner.
Lennon comes over to me, his fifth time this morning. “This is Mom’s surprise party. Please tell me you’ll actually smile when she gets here.”
I grunt my reply, but my cheek muscles shift downward.
“Did you swap bodies with Desmond?”
I don’t even grunt this time. I can’t muster the energy.
“Did Jo knock out your teeth? Is that why you can’t move your mouth?”
“In a manner of speaking, yeah.” Losing her knocked out a heck of a lot more than my ability to be congenial. Pretty sure my lungs are sewn half shut. My chest is packed with cement. If I don’t get my shit together soon, I’ll take one look at my mother andcry.
Surprise! Your thirty-two-year-old son is a fucking moron who lost the best thing in his life.
E zips over. He’s checked on me seven times already. “We should give him a dunce cap. Tell Mom he’s punished for jacking off in her oven mitt again.”
