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5
Caiti
The door openingsounds like a gunshot in the quiet darkness startling me from sleep. I don’t remember much about the dream, but it must have been a nightmare judging by the sensations rushing through my body. Electric bolts sizzle beneath the surface of my skin, and my heart races again. I sit up, noting the cold sweat covering my chest and dampening the shirt clinging to my back, while my eyes take in the room.
The simple space hasn’t changed since I was last here. The memory dredges up a guilty pang even though it shouldn’t.
Quiet voices break through the static ringing in my ears, and I breathe a sigh of relief, recognizing Ophelia.
“I see Momma now?”
“If you keep your voice down, I will check and see if she’s ready. Why don’t you take the coloring crayons Tommy gave you and make her a picture while you wait?”
My stomach pitches. The other voice belongs to Evie. I rub my sweaty palms together and shake my arms out, knowing she’s moments away from coming into the room. There’s no use in pretending to be asleep now. Evie would wake me up without hesitation anyway, and I’d rather not get busted faking it.
The dim light from the other room grows fractionally as the door opens silently and Evie slips inside. I’m grateful she closes the door behind her, blocking out the potential for Ophelia to hear something she shouldn’t. She’s not even three years old yet, but she is smart as a freaking whip, and I don’t need her repeating anything she might hear in the next five minutes.
My sister-in-law’s scrutinizing eyes meet mine in the dark room. I can tell without the light on she’s not surprised to see me awake.
“Nice to see you’re still alive.” Evie crosses her arms across her chest, the disdain in her tone intended for me to hear.
“Look, I’m not going to make any excuses. You’ve met my daughter. I’m sure you can conclude for yourself why I haven’t been answering the phone.”
“Don’t even think you can use her as an excuse for not picking up the damn phone, Caiti. That wouldn’t have worked for Eric, and it damn sure won't work for me.”
The guilt and shame burn deep, mingling with the other sensations coursing through me. “I know,” I mutter meekly.
Evie rushes toward me, knocking me to the side. Her arms wrap me in a tight embrace that until this moment I didn’t know I needed. Tears burst forth. After three long years, the dam holding them at bay has finally broken free. I choke on the sobs, my throat tightening as every breath becomes nearly painful to take.
“I’m so sorry,” I cry into her thick curly red hair, soaking her neck and the collar of her T-shirt with my torrent of tears.
“Shush.” She strokes my back with a motherly hand. Spending time with Rhett’s son has unleashed her maternal instincts.
Sitting up straight, I throw my arms on her shoulders and hold her at arm's length. “I didn’t know what to do. I still don’t know what to do.”
Evie's thumbs catch the tears streaming from my eyes and running down my cheeks. “It’s okay. We’ll figure it out. And now that you’re here, you’re not alone.” Her stern tone reveals her unhappiness with me keeping my distance for all this time as if she didn’t once do the same.
“I’m not ready to talk about him,” I say quickly to head off further conversation.
Evie’s eyes slit as she regards me, and her head cocks to the side. “Which him?” she asks, not cruelly based on the curiosity in her tone.
“Eric.” Saying his name out loud for the first time since I saw her last hurts more than I could’ve ever imagined. The loss of him still lances me from time to time, sure. But I think the fact I’ve dishonored him by not saying his name is what hurts the most at this moment.
“Did something happen?”
“What do you mean?”
Her gaze scrutinizes my face. “It’s just… You’re different.”
“I lost my husband.” I can’t quite keep the perplexity out of my tone. What did she expect after all this time? That I’d be the same old carefree girl she knew and loved? That I was somehow strong enough to endure the loss of my husband and becoming a widow at the ripe old age of thirty-one? Don’t forget to throw in a meaningless one-night stand and a baby, oh and the fact I kept said child a secret.
“You were so strong when I flew out to Colorado after he died. You comforted me,” she says, choking on the words of the memories.
“I think I was in shock. It was both incredibly real and unreal at the same time. And I had you, and I had Tate, and I had my parents. That was the last time that I didn’t feel alone.” The truth is, people only linger for so long after tragedy as their lives begin to resume again. Evie’s held out the longest. Eric’s best friend, Tate, drifted shortly after the ceremony we held to honor him. I suspect his grief pulled him down, and I was too lost to ask. As for my parents, the minute they realized I wouldn’t put my bastard child up for adoption, they ceased speaking to me.
Evie nods. “When you flew out here six months after that, I knew something was wrong. But you didn’t give me a chance to help you. You showed up sad, demanded we go to the bar, and spent the rest of the night drinking and refusing to talk. I thought I’d let you sort out your emotions, and we could talk the next day, but then you left.”
This is the part I’ve been dreading. The part I’ve been hiding. “I think you can now understand my reason for leaving.”
“I believe you thought you were doing what was best for you. That doesn’t mean I’m not pissed you left without talking to me.”
I brush a loose strand of hair out of my face. “I deserve that. I hope you can forgive me.”
“I’ll forgive you because I love you, but I have a stipulation.”
“I’m scared to even ask.”
“You should be.” Evie shoves my shoulder. “But I’m afraid you don’t have a choice.”
“What is it?” I groan. I lean back against the pillow behind me, sending a waft of bourbon-scented soap into the air. The scent of Dane renews old memories. The mixture of alcohol and smoke has been branded into my brain. For a moment, I allow myself to breathe in the fragrance I associate with comfort in this strange place.
“You have to stay.”
I straighten from the pillows. “I can’t.”
“You’ve always been close enough to me to be considered my sister, so while I love you, I’m not going to mince my words when I tell you if you leave again, I’m done.”
A spasm around my middle makes me grateful for my empty stomach. “You don’t mean that.” My attempt at calling her bluff sounds weak to my own ears.
“I have to mean it, sweetie. Because while you’ve been trying to figure out what you need to take care of you, I’ve put my life on hold waiting. And I can’t wait any longer. Not even for you.”
“What are you talking about? Waiting for what?”
“To marry Rhett. I won’t put it off any longer.”
“You shouldn’t have waited.”
“Well, I did. And now that you’re here, I’ll never forgive you if you leave before my wedding.”
