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“Right.”
I think about that for a minute. “Well, there are private dressing rooms for the premium members. I can ask if I can upgrade for this month so I can use one of those instead of the main dressing room. Would that work?”
“The doors to those dressing rooms are on a main hallway?”
“Yes. You could stand right in front of it, no trouble.”
“Okay. Good. That should work.”
We drift into silence again. I glance over at him a couple of times.
He looks a lot like he used to look. His brown hair is a little longer, but I think that’s just because he’s gone too long without a haircut. It’s starting to curl a little at the nape of his neck. I’m sure he shaved this morning, but I can still see a faint hint of bristles on his jaw and neck. His beard grows quickly. By the end of the day, he always had visible stubble.
He seems bigger than he used to be. Not like he’s been obsessively lifting weights but like he’s been eating more. He’s still in great shape, but his cheekbones aren’t cut so sharply, and his thighs are thicker beneath his trousers.
The weirdest wave of explanation wafts over me. In the past, when he was responsible for me, maybe I stressed him out so much he wasn’t able to eat right or relax enough. I was a constant, unrelenting burden. An endless weight on his shoulders. He did get time off, although he always worked longer than his assigned hours. But maybe even in his downtime he was worrying about keeping me from accidentally killing myself.
That interpretation of his physical changes closes my chest like a vise. It’s true. I know it’s true even without the slightest shred of evidence.
My stomach roils, and I blurt out, “I’m so sorry!”
He frowns again and turns his head to check my face. “What are you talking about?”
“About the past. How terrible I was to you.”
“You apologized yesterday, and I’ve accepted your apology. Do you think I’m holding a grudge?” He’s almost scowling now.
“No, of course not. I was just thinking about… looking at you. You look happier now. More relaxed and not as… not as tense. I must have been such a source of stress to you and given you so much extra work. I feel… I feel like shit for it now.”
He doesn’t answer immediately. He’s driving on a country road that winds through trees. He’s going the speed limit, and there’s no one else on the road. His eyes never leave the stretch of pavement in front of us.
“You’re still mad,” I say at last in a hoarse murmur. “Anyone would be. I wouldn’t have blamed you for turning my cousin down when he assigned you back to me.”
“I’m not mad,” he says at last, soft and slightly thick. His eyes slant over to me briefly before turning back to the road. “I was never mad.”
“Weren’t you? Didn’t you hate trying to take care of me?”
He works his mouth for just a few seconds. “Honestly, it wasn’t the best time of my life.”
I give a surprised giggle at this dry tone. “That’s what I thought.”
“But it wasn’t because I was angry. I mean, you did sometimes make me angry—you often made me angry—but I never held on to it.”
“It was stressful. Burdensome.”
He inclines his head slowly in a half nod. “Yes. It was. But I knew you needed help. And I was always torn about how much I should step in to give you that help.”
I swallow hard. “I get that. It was a bad situation for you. I’m going to…” My voice breaks weirdly. “I’m going to try very hard not to make this a bad situation for you again.”
“Thank you.” He meets my eyes briefly. Not long enough for me to get a good sense of what he’s feeling. “I appreciate it.”
I’m not sure what to say to that. I feel better—less guilty—but also kind of tense and jittery.
I definitely need to swim today. Being around Caleb is its own kind of stress, and I’m not used to stress in the life I’ve been living.
It’s going to take some getting used to.
* * *
