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“I’m here,” I call softly. Harley has jumped on the bed and lain across his outstretched legs.
He nods and looks over at me nervously. “I’m sorry.”
I put my arms around him. “Nothing to be sorry for.”
“I’m sorry I woke you up, and you have to work tomorrow,” he says, throwing his legs over the side of the bed. Harley follows him and stares up at him.
“Where are you going?” I ask.
“To the couch. Just go back to sleep.” He scrubs a hand over his face.
I stand and gather my pillow and a blanket to follow him.
“What are you doing?” He stops in the doorway and looks back at me.
“I go where you go. You sleep where I sleep now, SJ. Deal with it.”
He looks up at the ceiling and back at me. “Fine, let’s go back to bed,” he says reluctantly.
We crawl back into bed, and he puts his arms around me, but I can tell he’s still wound up. “I love you.”
“I love you more,” he whispers into my hair as his hand goes down to stroke Harley, who lies protectively at the foot of the bed.
“If you have a nightmare, we have a nightmare,” I say. “We do this together.”
“You don’t deserve my bullshit, Callie.”
“Well, I’m pretty sure I bring my own truckload of bullshit to the table, too. It comes in the form of manipulative parents and an ex-colleague who tried to kill your family. You didn’t ask for that either, now did you?” I remind him. “We all have stuff. And it’s all heavy and hard. We do hard together.”
“I wish I could go back in time and not leave you,” he says softly. “I think about what I did almost every day.”
“We can’t go back and change the past,” I whisper, looking into his eyes. “But we can change the future. We finally get to be together.”
He nods, but I can tell something is on his mind. “What?” I ask.
He swallows. “I have my PTSD. It’s a lot to make work,” he admits. “What if we can’t make it work?”
“Have you ever noticed that most of our current issues are my parents?” I ask. “Now that I’ve cut them out, things will get better for us. My dad won’t be asking me for money all the time, threatening us, or messing up our jobs. I won’t have to see them, and they’ll have no place in our lives.”
“They ask you for money?” he asks, confused. “Why?”
“I think they’ve always lived above their means and tried to keep up with everyone at the club. It’s catching up to them. They’ve always looked at me as their investment. I guess they want to cash in now.”
“Absolutely not. That’s not right. Just because they paid for your college doesn’t mean you owe them,” he says. “You’re not an investment. Jesus, Callie.”
I laugh and shake my head. “They never paid for my college. I have massive student loans. But he likes to tell everyone he put me through school. When, in reality, they never paid a dime for anything. In fact, he even asked if he could borrow money from me when I worked part time in school.”
His jaw drops in disbelief. “He never helped you?”
“Not a penny. Never came to New York to visit me or attend either of my graduations. Goldie was there along with your dad.” I shrug.
I open and close my mouth. I don’t even know what to say. Unbelievable.
“Yeah, I’m telling you, it’s all a facade.” I shrug. “I have the people who mean the most to me in my life.”
“How can I help?” he asks as he leans on his elbow.
“We could go somewhere else and start over fresh. Somewhere where no one knows us,” I suggest. “Maybe it would be good for both of us.”
