The men sat on the sofa and calmly explained that
Luke's unit had been hit during a training exercise. Insurgents had opened fire
on their small convoy and four of them had been killed. He had been hit by
bullets in the lungs, the ribs, and had one through his shin. However, he was
alive. Luke was alive.
My
knees were shaking as I rested trembling fingers on them, not knowing what to
do with my hands, where to put them. My heart clanged in my ears, my chest full
of acid fear.
It
was like watching a documentary in some kind of virtual reality. I was there,
but it wasn't to do with me. It couldn’t be. Luke couldn't possibly be fighting
for his life in Bastion's trauma hospital. He was the one who saved
other people. Luke wouldn’t need saving. I sat with the cold lining of shock
sitting heavy in my stomach while they spoke to me about grief councillors and
support groups, but the one question on my lips was: "When can I see
him?" It seemed to be my response to everything they said, and for some reason,
I just couldn’t seem to 'get' that they'd already told me it was too soon and
he was too fragile to be moved, but that they'd keep me up to date with any
developments, and let me know when he was coming home, and when I could see him.
There
was a ringing in my ears. Shock made me faint, blurry round the edges, but
everything in the centre of my vision was horribly detailed. I felt like
Superman waking up to his powers after being Clark Kent for half a lifetime.
The men were still talking but I’d stopped listening.
They
made sure I wasn't about to have a heart attack, and I think I kept it together
pretty well, but when, over an hour later, they had gone, and the house was
empty, and all I had was the phone number of that grief councillor and that
army support group, I began to panic. This was supposed to have been my big
test: my first weekend alone after my post-Caleb meltdown. Kit was away
visiting his parents for their wedding anniversary, and the house was empty.
Now it was even emptier. Like a tornado had ripped through and sucked all the
air out and left everything else in place. Luke was in transit between the
trauma centre at Bastion and the trauma hospital here in the UK, and there was
nothing I could do. I was utterly powerless. I had nothing. I noticed that
itching panic in my lungs that I’d heard Caleb and Luke both talk about, and
felt the buzzing breath leaving my chest in faster and faster gasps, and I was
powerless as the panic began to sweep me down river like a kayaker on a white
water rapid. Without a paddle. I was definitely up shit creek without a paddle.
I thought about Caleb’s attacks, about how vulnerable he’d been, and before I
got lost somewhere in my own terror and shock, I made myself stand up off the
sofa and walk around. Metabolise some of that adrenaline, I thought, sticking
on a brave smile.
I
made myself a cup of tea but didn’t drink it.
I
walked around the shell of the house, not taking anything in, fiddling the
warm, soft metal of my little pendant between my fingers, praying to a god I
didn't believe in that he'd pull through. He had to pull through. I couldn't
imagine a life without him. There was no life without Luke. He had been my
other half throughout my entire existence. "Oh god," I hissed,
shuddering, covering my face in my hands as I made my way upstairs. I shied
into the smooth, pale wall in the hallway and hung there a moment in suspended
terror like an animal about to be caught, before exhaling and sliding down to
slump in a pile at the skirting board. "Please, Luke... don't die."
I
didn't know what to do. There was no one who I could talk to. No one I could
turn to.
Well,
maybe there was one place.
No.
I
moved quietly into the sitting room and tried to turn on the television, but it
felt so disrespectfully mundane that I couldn’t bare the insult to Luke, and
turned it off. I couldn’t read either, because my eyes were too tired from
crying. Surfing through some designs on Pinterest gave me little inspiration. I
wanted to talk to someone, but Emily would fuss and Kay would be unbearably
kind. I didn’t want to call Kit and ruin his weekend with news that he could do
nothing about. Maybe I could talk to…
“No. You burned that bridge already, Alyssa,” I said aloud in the darkening
sitting room. But the idea had kindled and it wasn’t going away.
I
dithered, even put my shoes on, but hurriedly took them off, went upstairs for
a while, came back down again, cried some more, and then finally, in a fit of
madness, I rammed my shoes back onto my feet – somehow miraculously getting the
right one on the right foot. I grabbed my house-keys and slammed the door shut
behind me before I had given myself any time to think about what the hell I was
doing.
It
was a mild evening outside. My mind latched onto various details as I skittered
through the night: the shape of the loose gravel on the pavement, like grains
of sand under a microscope; a daisy growing with dogged optimism between the
cracks in a brick wall; the harsh crackle of a foil crisp packet, cartwheeling
in a light breath of wind for a moment before falling still, its borrowed life
failing, only to leave it hollow and empty. All details, no big picture.
When I got there, I stumbled down the path, half
blinded by tears, and rapped on the door, still acting before I had taken stock
of what I was really doing. No answer. I rapped again, forgetting about
doorbells entirely. Lights were all off. Were they asleep? Oh god, the thought sank like a stone to my stomach,
I'll probably wake them all up, or at least disturb them. What the hell am I
doing? I'm knocking on his door at half past nine at night, like some demented
banshee. Fuck, this was a stupid idea.
I turned and fled, stumbling footsteps as uneven as my
ragged breath. The iron gate swung open with a high pitched squeak just as the
front door rattled and hinged open to leave a silent dark hole.
I froze.
He was standing there, half shrouded in shadows, half
bathed in harsh orange light from the street lamp nearby, cheekbones flashing.
He said nothing, looking quietly calm, like a black-belt before a fight. Could
he know it was me?
"Caleb?" I sobbed, turning back towards him.
He frowned, face hardening, expression going sour,
sharp, harsh. No. He hadn't known who it was. The hand at his side twitched
convulsively, the other on the door tightening its grip on the edge.
Reeling with equal parts relief, fear and horror, I
found myself making a step back towards the house, his name on my lips again,
this time a harsh, jerking hiss. "Caleb..."
"L-L-Lyssa," he stammered coldly.
I crumbled. "I didn't know where else to
come," I said before I burst into tears again.
I couldn't breathe. I shouldn't have been there at
all. It was all wrong, and I was making it worse. He had started to say
something but my hearing was fading behind my own gulping, panicked breath.
"I didn't know where to go," I cried softly.
His face softened, his whole body changing, and he
took a step towards me as he realised something was horribly wrong, coming over
the threshold and out onto the front step. "L-Lyss, wh-what's
happened?" he asked, one hand reaching away from his side, up a little
towards me. All his revulsion had dissolved and he showed only concern, which I
found suddenly unbearable.
"I'm sorry," I gasped, feeling faint.
"I shouldn't have come, I shouldn't be here, not after what I said, the
way I behaved. I'll go. I'm going. I'm sorry."
"Stop, don't!" he shot suddenly, that worry,
exquisitely painful to behold, pushing him forwards again, off the step and
onto the path with a stiff hobble, just a pace away from me. "Don't go.
Wh-What's happened? Please..." And in the murk of his blindness, his grabbing
hand had found my wrist and locked its softly fumbling fingers around me with
surprising strength and kindness. It was like a lifeline to a falling climber.
My eyes were rimmed with stinging salt tears as I
turned back to him. Seeing him without his canes, without his glasses, looking
spectacularly good in a simple white t-shirt and dark indigo jeans, with just
one worry in the world - me - I felt my knees dissolving.
"Caleb..." I whimpered.
With gentle pressure he drew me to him. “Y-You’re
shaking.”
I clung to him, I clutched at him. I hung from him.
And, as if by osmosis, all the tears I had left began to soak from my eyes into
his white shirt.
"Shh," he crooned, putting a hand behind my
head and his other arm around my shivering shoulders as we stood together on
the front path. "Shh."
"It's Luke," I said, feeling his muscles
twitch reflexively. "It's Luke."
He didn't ask what happened. Maybe he assumed the
worst, or maybe he knew it wasn't the place to start talking about any of it,
but he planted a soft kiss on the top of my head and then, chest shuddering
like mine as the consonant lodged and repeated, he said, "C-C-C-Come
inside." I loved it. I wanted to hear it again. Familiar as the ticking of
an old clock, I loved the sound.
He peeled himself off me, just slightly, and drew me
quietly into the house, leading me up the step and into the dark hallway,
fingers dancing lightly over the wall as he looked for a light switch for me.
"Don't," I croaked. "Leave it
off." I didn't want the light. Dark was good. And Caleb was in the dark.
"Alright," he breathed patiently, clearly
not understanding me. He was tense, nervous, I could feel it, but there was something
in the way he touched me that told me he hadn't let go of 'us', and in that
maelstrom of ragged emotion, it was a huge comfort to me. It centred me.
He led me through the house in the dark by the hand,
and set me down on the sofa. "I'll be r-right back," he said softly,
holding my hand long after I'd sat down, as though to make sure I was still
really there, wasn’t going to dissolve in my own panic. "St-Stay
there."
And he limped from the room, his beautiful rocking
gait like music for my eyes, an old song, unheard for a long time, instantly
familiar again. I watched him go and tucked my knees up under my chin as I sat
on that sofa, hugging my legs to my chest. "Luke," I murmured into
the shadows of the empty room.
I heard the whooshing rumble of a kettle being boiled,
and the ceramic clink of a mug being set down, the electronic beep of his level
detector. Shortly, he returned, hand running along the wall to keep him true as
he carried the cup through to me, and when he found the table beside the sofa,
he reached over the surface for a coaster and set it down. "Here," he
said. "Tr-Tr-Try and dr-dr-drink some wh-when it's c-c-cooled down
enough."
"I'm sorry, Caleb," I sniffed. "I'm so sorry."
"Shh, not now," he said, coming round and
sitting down beside me on my right, the sofa receiving him with cushioned arms
as he lowered himself down with a heavy grunt and put his left arm around me.
"Tell me wh-what's happened."
His voice was low, and gravelly with some
barely-contained emotion, but he didn't let me know what it was. I leaned over
and rested my head on his warm shoulder and breathed in. How could anyone
smell so good? I wondered to myself.
His thumb played idly over the top of my arm and I
shivered with pleasure at the recovered, if borrowed, closeness. I nearly told
him I'd missed him, but it wasn't the right time.
I sighed. "His unit came under fire. He..."
I choked. I hadn’t realised I’d be that hard to speak the words that had so
recently been said to me. Caleb's silent hand squeezed me gently. I took
courage from the gesture, and sighed. Start
with the story, then get to the events, I thought. "They were out on
patrol. Training some new army medics. Going to a pop-up clinic to treat
locals. They didn’t get there though. He was hit in his left lung, went through
his ribs, and he took another in his leg. Apparently it’s horribly broken. He
can't breathe on his own yet. He's in the trauma unit at Bastion. They don't
know when he'll be stable enough to be moved back to the UK, but they hope in a
week. I don't really know when I can go and see him though."
Again, Caleb's quiet hand spoke for him, softly
caressing the contour of my shoulder until he added, "He's in the best
pl-place. Tr-Trust me. I know."
I looked up at his face, used to the way he turned
away, his attention apparently off in the distance, knowing that when his ear
was on me he was actually staring straight at me. His ear was turned towards me
now like a satellite listening to the void of space. I had his full attention
though his eyes were on the back wall. Or would have been if they’d been open.
His features as I turned to him were blurry as a watercolour sketch in the half
light of the dark room, street lamps outside casting a strange eerie light onto
the surfaces and shapes. "I know you do. That's why I came here."
I wriggled my body so that my right arm was free, and
I set my feet down onto the carpet. It was pale like cherry blossoms. Turning
back to his face, I raised my right hand and ran my thumb along his left
eyebrow, watching the eyelid clench tightly, protectively, full of fear and
shame for an instant as he flinched away from my touch. I had broken the spell,
but as my thumb moved to his temple, and to where the little flecked scars
danced like fireflies around his eye, the lid relaxed and he breathed a sigh,
rolling his head back into the sofa.
Through those parted lips, he said, "I've missed
you."
I used his strong shoulder and the steel of his back,
rigid as a construction girder, to draw my body close to his and kiss him on
the temple where my thumb had been tracing ovals on his skin. My lips left a
salty kiss, tears leaving silver stains on him. Suddenly his hands were on my
waist and he tugged me up so hard that the only thing I was able to do was move
with him and sit astride him on his lap. "Come here," he hissed,
pulling me tight into his chest, one hand on the back of my head, the other
around my back. His shoulder locked me in place like a vice, his lean bicep
straining against me. "Come right here and let me hold you properly,"
he whispered into my hair. "My beautiful girl," he said as I began to
cry again, a great flood of emotion washing out of my chest, rushing out of me in
a series of violent, gulping, ugly sobs. "I'm sorry," he whispered.
"I'm so sorry for everything."
"I want to talk about everything," I gulped,
throat raw like I'd swallowed a gallon of sea water. "But I can't face it
now. Please, not now."
"I know," he said, quietly holding me for
what seemed like a lifetime. "St-Stay here tonight. Stay here." It
wasn't a question; neither was it a command. Just a gentle, friendly statement
of truth. I was staying with Caleb that night, and it felt like the only thing
to do. I nodded mutely and he continued to cup the back of my head with his
amazingly expressive hand, cheek against my ear, the scratch of day-old stubble
counterpointing the softness of the touch of his fingers through my red hair.
"We'll t-talk tomorrow."
Eventually I stopped crying, slumping exhausted into
him while he stayed stroking my shoulders and back, fingers occasionally
tangling in my ridiculously long hair. Seriously, I thought, I have
to get that cut; it's getting dangerous in the workshop. I almost sniggered
aloud at the irony of a red-head quite literally having 'fiery' hair.
"Shall we g-go upstairs?" he suggested
eventually, stuttering softly in my ear.
I nodded.
Caleb chuckled softly after another minute and said,
"You'll need to g-get up then in order for that to w-w-w-work..."
Moving was so difficult. Levering myself up away from
his body, I felt like there was chewing gum cementing me to him, fibres
stretching stiffly, reluctantly, as I pulled away. Finally I was on my feet, my
knees weak as water, my hands in his where he still sat on the sofa below me.
The were so quiet. I looked at them, their wonderful strength and infinite
delicacy, unable to tear my eyes from them until he twitched his fingers to get
my attention. He knew I was staring.
"Help me up?" he asked with an eyebrow
cocked cheekily skyward.
I nodded and squeezed my fingers. "On
three?"
He grunted. "One, two, three." And as
he and I balanced his weight between us, his right hand clutching my forearm as
he fought for a moment to stay upright, I felt the connection between us like a
lightening bolt. I was made for this, I knew suddenly. It was as obvious
as day against night. Fire and shadow, the two of us may have been opposites in
many respects, but we met in the middle and made the perfect connection.
"L-Lyss?" he asked, "Y-You've fr-frozen
on me..."
"I..." I began, "I just realised
something. That's all. It doesn't matter," I said. At least I had the
sense now to shut up and not sound like a raving lunatic.
Leaving me with a half-smile for an answer, he
squeezed my fingers and said, "Alright. L-Let's get upstairs. Y-you want a
bath or something?"
I just wanted to curl up in bed, but I had come
straight from work, barrelling into the bad news and out the other end into a
world that felt bleak as a Fallout landscape. I felt dirty and exhausted, the
way a I might after a long hike in the dust, or a week of camping, but I longed
to curl up and try and sleep. Though the adrenaline that surged through my
veins every time I thought about Luke threatened to keep me from any kind of
rest. "I don't know," I said in a small voice.
"I'll r-run you a bath," he said gently as
he put his foot to the first step and let go of my hand to haul himself up the
stairs. He turned right at the top, heading for the bathroom, adding
breathlessly, "My dr-dressing g-g-g-gown is... on the back of the door...
If you w-want to... borrow it..."
"Thank you," I breathed. "Are Nan and
Amy here?" I suddenly asked, not seeing a light in Amy's room.
He paused in the doorway to the bathroom, holding the
architrave with a pale hand, breath coming back to his chest. His whispered
deliciously, voice a low hiss. "Amy's at her friend Molly's for a
sl-sleepover. Nan is here, but she's in bed already."
I nodded. "Ok," I said, "I'll go and
get undressed."
He smiled sadly, and turned without a word to begin to
run the water for a bath.
His room was the same as it had always been: an arctic
wasteland of immaculate neatness, soullessly without photographs or decoration,
like a monk's cell. It seemed particularly pathetic in the light of recent
events between us. His huge bed looked like an iced cake, the duvet without wrinkle
or crease, the pillows plumped and shunted like train cars against the
headboard. I assumed that Nan did it, but I didn't know for sure. In fact, on
reflection, there was probably a military neatness of habit there in the
corners of those pillow cases.
I didn't realise I'd been standing there in the middle
of the room without moving until the door opened behind me and Caleb came to a
halt in the doorway. "L-Lyss?" he whispered, listening intently,
unable to pinpoint me.
I jumped and turned with a small gasp.
"Hey,"
he said, reaching for me. He knew I was close, standing in the middle of the
room, but he wasn't exactly sure where I was. I watched his uncertain,
approaching gesture with a smile.
I
reached for his hand and let him draw me into his chest again. "How do I
do it, Caleb?" I asked in a very small voice, breathing evenly against the
fabric of his t-shirt, feeling his taut muscles beneath.
He
didn't answer for a moment, and then he sighed. "I've only been on the
other end of this, on L-Luke's side," he said quietly. "I don't know.
Nan and Amy said they took it one day at a time. N-no n-news is good n-news,
but y-you c-c-c-c-c..." He broke off, the consonant carving a deep groove
on his tongue as his chest contracted violently, shaking me where I clung to
him. "Excuse me, y-you mustn't sit around w-waiting for a phone
c-call..." He kissed the top of my head again and I knew he wanted to work
through our personal issues. I could feel it. We weren't done. That spark of
hope was going to carry me through this awful period of waiting. I wanted it
too now, despite my anger before. "And you have to c-carry on with y-your
l-l-life. Do the l-little things..."
"Like
having a bath," I smiled weakly, looking up at him.
"Exactly."
"I
smell that bad?"
"There
we go," he chuckled. "Making jokes already."
He
moved away from me and sat on the far side of his bed, fixing an earbud to his
ear as he picked up his iPhone, back to me, a strongly silent gesture which had
infinite distance to it. I wobbled for a moment, but bit my lip and started on
my first ‘little thing’. I pulled my clothes off, dirty and stained from the
workshop where I'd been making waxes and moulds for casting all day, and slid
into his bath robe. It was too big and the extra fabric wrapped around me in a
warm embrace as I headed for the bathroom and sank into the warm water.
I
tied my hair up in a bun, and had just sunk my hands back below the water line
when the door opened. I'd forgotten to lock it, and in a rush of horror I
thought Nan would be coming in and would see me in all my naked not-so-glorious
glory... But the hand that snuck around the door was Caleb's, and he came in
wearing some slouchy-looking grey tracksuit bottoms, and the top half of him
was bare. Deliciously bare.
"Y-You
don't mind if I gr-grab a qu-qu-quick shower do you?" he asked, nodding at
the shower cubicle that stood opposite the bath.
"Mind?"
I asked mutely, eyes lost on the landscape of his scarred torso.
"Well...
after the, erm, fireworks, last w-w-week, I thought, y-you know, you
might not..."
I
sighed and slipped further into the heat of the water. His ear moved at the
whisper of little waves sloshing over my shoulders. "No Caleb," I
said quietly. "I don't mind at all. I was wrong in the way I acted… what I
said to you. The more I replayed what I saw afterwards, the more I realised you
were telling the truth, and that Nan was right. It was her, not you."
"Nan?"
he asked, coming over to the bath, face full of curiosity as he leaned on the
heated towel rail, fingers holding a warm, white, fluffy towel while he
listened to me.
I
sighed and watched again as he caught the sparkling of the water again as it
fell in heavy droplets off my arm as I raised my hand to flick a wayward strand
of hair back. It was going curly in the steam from the bath. "She and I
spoke briefly when I came round on Sunday to 'talk' to you," I snorted
bitterly at the memory of how that had gone. "She shed a bit of light on
things."
"Oh?"
he asked again. "Wh-what did she say?" He was wary, his knuckles pale
as he choked the rail in his hand. The rest of him was tense as an early Greek
bronze statue. The Kritios Boy perhaps, I thought as my art history rushed back
unexpectedly to me for a moment.
I
focused and said, "She just said that you suffered more than you let on
when you came back from Afghanistan for good... But..." I sighed.
"But she said she'd noticed a real difference in you since we'd been
together. You seemed happier, she said. But... but she wanted me to appreciate
how much of a difference your injuries made in your life, I think. I've only
known you after you were hurt. I don't know what it was like for you before.
You do, and..." I choked a bit, realising how selfish I'd been, "And
Millie represents a time before, when you didn't have all the frustrations you do
now..."
I
thought he looked a little faint as he stood there, not saying anything.
"Caleb?"
He
let go of the rail and came over to the bath, his left hand searching for the
white enamel. When he found it, he leaned down and lowered himself onto the
precarious edge of the bath. He had his back to me, but twisted his torso
towards me and let his left hand trail down into the water. He found my
shoulder and slid the back of his fingers up my neck to my cheek. Still he said
nothing.
"What
did I say?" I asked, shuddering as his fingers traced the outlines of my
features. I closed my eyes.
"Y-you
have no idea," he whispered, "The good you do me."
"Oh
Caleb," I whimpered. "I'm so sorry I hurt you. I'm sorry I wasn't
listening to you."
He
opened his eyes as he turned his face more towards me, and my heart lurched. He
was so beautiful. He smiled sadly and said, "I'm sorry I stopped t-talking
to you," he said. "And..." his fingers left my body and clenched
angrily, "And I'm sorry about her. I should have known wh-what was
happening. I... I felt it c-coming, but I didn't think she'd actually do it.
She was always a 'see it, w-want it, have it' k-kind of girl. She never
r-really thought things through. I should have done the thinking. That w-was
always my job..."
"You're
not in the army any more, Caleb," I said gently, reaching for his arm
where it now hovered above the bath water. I closed my fingers around that
canon ball of a fist. The muscles in his arm melted as he sighed. "You're
not responsible for her any more."
"But
I am re-responsible for myself," he spat. "I should have
k-kept my distance. I should have – "
I
interrupted him. "Stop. It happened, but let's not make more of it than we
should. I've already done a first class job of that."
His
back softened and he reached back down for my body, finding my collarbones and
making me gasp. He let his fingers play there a while, before running them
gently up my neck to my chin and pressing the pad of his thumb gently against
me with soft, sweet affection. "Alright," he sighed.
"Go
and have your shower," I said. "I'll soak here a little longer til
you finish."
He
didn't have his brace on and he wasn't using a cane I realised as he pulled
himself up using the towel rail. With pinpoint familiarity he crossed the
small, boxy bathroom and undressed before sliding the glass door of the shower
open and stepping cautiously in. His body was as strangely, intoxicatingly
beautiful as I had always thought it was, with his Rodin arms and torso, strongly
muscled left leg, and its weak, slightly withered brother beside it, with its
unusual angles and slants, his broken hip and misshapen quad melting into a
slender calf and stiff ankle. I breathed heavily for a moment, and I think he
caught me, casting me a twitch of his jaw but nothing more.
With
calculated movements, he located the dials on the shower and I was as
fascinated as ever by the way he moved through space. I was drawn to him, the
anger and hurt melting as I realised he'd made bad decisions because of the bad
that had happened to him. It wasn't an excuse, and I wasn't forgiving him just
because he had had a shit time of things; I was forgiving him because I now
understood why he'd not stopped her. I was angry as a demon with Millie, and God-only
knows what I'd do if I ever met her in the future, but I wasn't angry with
Caleb any more. And yes, I did want to kiss those lips again.
The
rush of water as I pulled my body from the warm bath made Caleb, now also out
of the shower and heading for the towel rail, stop and turn to me. "Pass
me a towel?" I asked him as I stood in the bath.
"No,"
he smiled, limping painfully towards me.
"Come
on," I said, shivering audibly.
He
stopped later than I'd expected him to, standing extremely close to me, nose
testing the space until he found my face, the height of the bath giving me the
extra few inches I needed to stand level with him as he continued to nuzzle
against me while his hands found my shoulders and he ran his palms over my wet
skin. He drew me from the bath, holding me by the hips as I stepped over the
sides and stood on the deeply fluffy bath mat, bare toes sinking between the
threads.
His
pelvis pressed against me, just above the place where I felt a growing heat.
His cock rose, growing a little hard, and pressed into me as well. Caleb's hand
moved to my head and he gripped me just below the knot of red hair that I'd
tied up earlier. The savage want in his touch sent a thrill through me, and as
his lips crushed into mine and his teeth began to work along my lips, nipping,
biting, tongue tasting, I grabbed his wet back and raked my fingernails over
his muscles. He broke off with a gasp and a grunt, throwing his head back as I
reached the end of his spine. My hands softened as they moved to his lopsided
hips, and I felt him twitch backwards as I began to run circles over the sides
of his pelvis. I put the flat of my palm down and drew him close to me again
with a wordless gesture of acceptance before kissing him one more time.
I
shivered, and not from his touch this time. "How about that towel?" I
whispered when I pulled back.
He
grinned roguishly and kissed me again, reaching out to his left without breaking
away from me to pull a huge bath towel from the rail. He didn’t need to look to
find it. Then with another smile he moved back and wrapped it around my
shoulders, cocooning me up in it. He shuffled backwards and a flash of pain passed
over his features as he moved awkwardly, looking for another towel on the rail
below. He couldn't bend easily from where he was, and I stepped over and tugged
one free to put its corner in his hand. His smile was shy as he pulled the rest
of it off and began to dry himself. "I'll go and curl up," I said
softly, leaning a moment on his tense shoulders and leaving a rapid kiss on his
scratchy cheek.
He
rubbed his chin. "I'll j-just g-g-g-get r-rid of that," he stammered,
head nodding uncontrollably as the sounds stuck.
I
smiled and left him to shave, padding quietly up the familiar corridor in his
dressing gown and sliding into a t-shirt I found in his drawer. It was an old
one with a hole in the shoulder, but it was the one I had always worn when I'd
stayed over. It was Caleb's, but it was mine.
Sliding
between the duvet and the soft sheet, I landed my head on the pillow and lay
quiet and still for a few minutes, head spinning. Luke was fighting for his
life, and I was reconnecting with Caleb, and I didn't know how to feel about
any of it, but I wasn't alone, and that was a comfort.
I
rolled over as Caleb came back in, limping awkwardly, using the wall as much to
prop himself up as to guide the way. He paused at the chest of drawers to dig
out a pair of black boxers and rested his weight on the top of the unit for a moment,
arms buttressing him up before putting them on. He puffed a quick pant of
effort as he closed the drawer and sat down on the bed and swung his leg up,
right hand hooked under the thigh, left supporting the calf. His left leg
followed suit and he tugged the duvet up to cover his lower half.
There
was a moment, a suspension of time, while he sat leaning back on his hands,
spine straight, shoulders high, naked except for his boxers, dark hair damp
from the shower, sharp jawline freshly shaven, eyelids fluttering but closed. I
could have stared endlessly, searching for details. It lasted for three of his
slow inhales before he lay back and rested his head on the pillow. He breathed silently
in and out for a moment, face gazing blankly at the ceiling, eyes closed, and
then he said to me, “Are we g-going to do this L-Lyss?”
“Do
what?”
“Tr-try
it all again?”
I
knew he wondered if I thought it was worth all the effort of darning it all up,
patching the hole and moving forward, and I rolled quietly over to face him.
His ear moved a little towards me, cheekbones catching the dim light from
outside. Staying in his room was the only time I liked the curtains open at
night. I liked the privilege of seeing him in the dark. “Yes, Caleb. I think we
should.”
The
soft smile that grew on his lips almost made me cry again. Crinkles grew from
the corners of his eyes and a tiny dimple pinched at the end of his smile. He
breathed out the apprehension in his chest and rolled carefully over so that we
faced each other like pair of porcelain figures, stiff in our uncertain
expectance for an instant, until he reached out with measured caution and found
my body. His fingers ran down my waist and he anchored on my hip, drawing me
into him. “Good,” he whispered as he buried his face in my hair.
“I
love you,” I whispered back. He pushed a gasp from his lungs and clenched his
hand in my hair. “I love you, Caleb,” I repeated firmly, and he kissed my
forehead.
To be continued...
Oh I love it so happy they are back together, bit feel bad for luke wonderful chapter..
ReplyDeleteOh I love it so happy they are back together, bit feel bad for luke wonderful chapter..
ReplyDeleteSo, long time no reply, but thank you for leaving a comment! Glad you liked it...
Deleteyaaaaay!
ReplyDeleteGood news all around, relatively speaking. I'm glad you decided to stretch the ending out to two chapters; I was wondering how you were going to manage to wrap up everything in one!
btw, I love the parallels between this chapter and the one-shot you posted ages ago. Distressed friend coming to the door for help late at night, the Caleb character drawing a bath and making sure she's okay ... that scene has been bouncing around in my head for ages and I was so happy to see you repurpose bits of it for Caleb and Alyssa's circumstances.
Yeah, this was based on that, so I'm glad you liked the expansion of the idea. I'm a sucker for comfort stories...
DeleteReally lovely chapter! The details you gave made it like watching a film, a very tender, and beautiful film.
ReplyDeleteThank you!
DeleteI managed two hours after seeing the update, biting my nails, before I gave in and read... THANK YOU for letting Luke live! :) Caleb and Alyssa getting back together was just wonderfully done.
ReplyDeleteI love this story so much, I really, really don't want it to end! :(
On a side note, I think you should label the chapters only with the name of the story (all except for the first). That way people can better find your other stories when only searching your author name. Also, if you re-date the chapters so that they seem to be posted in the "wrong" order (the last chapter first etc.), the first chapter will show first when someone searches for the name of the story.
On another very very small side note and only after reading for the third time, you probably mean capillary action and not osmosis.
DeleteI think I meant osmosis, but regardless, it scans better, so I'm gonna leave it... :D
DeleteThanks for commenting and keeping me sharp... I'll see what I can do to tidy it up some time.
He opened his eyes :)
ReplyDeleteYes. Yes he did.
DeleteI don't want it to end, but i take great solace in the fact that you will have other stories to share with us.
ReplyDeleteYou are really an absolutely outstanding writer and I can't wait to read more from you.
Thank you so much for your kind words. It means a lot to me that you took the time to say that, and I will post more. At some point. Soon. Honest...
DeleteYou are such an excellent writer, this story has got me hooked from the very beginning. Her realisation that she was made for this...like fire and shadow...just wow! Thank you for sharing this complicated but beautiful romance!
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing your thoughts and for being so kind!
DeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteI'm so glad you connect with her. I feel quite strongly about her too, and relate to her rather closely...
DeleteThis comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteI hope you will not wait too long to start with the next story.... you will be missed here weekly :-(
ReplyDeleteI was so happy to find a blind character here. Maybe you will have another visually impaired character in one of your future stories!?
Anyway, I still have the last chapter to look forward too....
Sorry to have been away for so long... I do like visually impaired characters a lot, but I haven't got much planned for the future with one. Who knows though...
DeleteThat's what I wanted!!! Her brother alive and a reunion!!! Thanks for one more chapter!!!
ReplyDeleteTc
I'm a sucker for soppy stories... There will eventually be another chapter...
DeleteIve been following this story since the very beginning and this chapter is by far the best. I love how you exclusively describe every little details and how the words chosen are perfectly saying out the emotions. Cant wait for more tho I dont want this to end, just yet.
ReplyDeleteI do like my details... Thanks for commenting and saying such nice things
DeleteI LOVE that you had Caleb kiss her forehead, in response.
ReplyDeletePerfectly executed!
He's a sweetie, what can I say...?
DeleteAlthough I'm sad to know that this story is coming to an end soon, I'm still super thrilled by every update I see. I've loved this story from the very beginning. You have a wonderful ability to draw your readers in. Can't wait to read the conclusion. Happy writing, Rose. Thank you for sharing your talents (and delectable characters!) with us :)
ReplyDeleteP.S.: So many things made me happy in this chapter! Especially Luke being alive and Alyssa turning to Caleb for comfort. Despite his flaws, he really seems like the best.
P.S.S. (or is it P.P.S.??): I especially liked this line:
"He grunted. "One, two, three." And as he and I balanced his weight between us, his right hand clutching my forearm as he fought for a moment to stay upright, I felt the connection between us like a lightening bolt. I was made for this, I knew suddenly. It was as obvious as day against night. Fire and shadow, the two of us may have been opposites in many respects, but we met in the middle and made the perfect connection."
I think you've perfectly described what everyone feels when they're so agonizingly frustrated with their partner, but the realize they can't -- and don't want to -- to live without them.
Haha, thank you so much for sharing your thoughts on my writing. I really appreciate it, and I'm sorry it took me so long to respond...
DeleteSo many ahead of me have said the same thing about this chapter. It is truly perfect. The thoughtful, sweet, details especially of his blindness and hip & leg. The " fire & shadow " scene so incredible. Loved all the detail in the bath. Such intense emotion you are able to lay at our feet. I'm so sorry it's come to an end but I know it's one I will re read again and again. Wish you posted on the board so I could get to know you better. Where all this comes from. Thank you
ReplyDeleteThank you so much for commenting. I'm kind of shy with my online presence, but who knows, maybe I'll join the board and get chatting... You're all so nice, there's no real reason not to...
DeleteI found this story recently and read it in two days. So deeply moving! I'm eagerly waiting for the next chapter, although, like so many others have said, I'm sorry to see it end. Perhaps you'll consider a sequel?
ReplyDeleteThank you for devouring it so keenly! I'm sorry to keep you waiting for the rest of it. Maybe I'll do a one-shot, but I've not planned any more for these two...
DeleteI found this story recently and read it in two days. So deeply moving! I'm eagerly waiting for the next chapter, although, like so many others have said, I'm sorry to see it end. Perhaps you'll consider a sequel?
ReplyDeleteI need an update friend! Hope everything is OK and you're just too busy... And not having writers block.
ReplyDeleteTc
Hi friend! Thanks for checking in. I'm alive. Just not been on the blog at all... Been doing writing in others spheres, mostly historical fantasy...
DeleteHope all is well with you. Please update soon.
ReplyDeleteAll well, but busy. Been away though... Will update when I get the chance...
DeleteTook a break from this site for a bit, but just came back. I've devoured this story, just like I did Cambridge Connections. I am so looking forward to the next installment, even though I think it might be the last one. Please say it will be soon!
ReplyDeleteThank you for reading my stories and leaving comments! I've been away myself for a while... More will go up soon(ish)...
DeleteYes say it will be soon! And I guess I didn't make the connection... you wrote Cambridge Connections too?
ReplyDeleteTc
I did! Update may be soon... may not be...
DeleteWill you post the final chapter? Or is this the end? I hope not.... Caleb is just such a sweetheart. I read your story over and over again.
ReplyDeleteI will post more, I promise. Also, you wrote this almost on the day I got married! Been a busy year...
DeleteJust writing to let you know that I'm still thinking about your story and missing your writing and the conclusion of this story AND the cowboys!! :)
ReplyDeleteWishing you all the best and hoping to read from you soon! :)
Thank you, dear Anonymous, for letting me know you're still thinking about me and my writing. I will post more, and some cowboys, at some point. Just taken a break from the blog...
DeleteWow, it's been a while... Sorry for not updating in like, ALMOST A YEAR. Time flies.
ReplyDeleteI have been doing an awful lot, including completing a masters degree and getting married, as well as looking for a job and a house and doing some historical fantasy writing, but hopefully, if I can find a free day on here, I'll post soon.
I do have a one-shot story that's ready to go, if anyone knows what day I can post. In the mean time, I've got a lot of catching up to do on the blog of other people's excellent stories! Maybe in the next month or so I'll post the last chapter of Footsteps. Thank you all for your kind comments and thoughts, and I'm sorry I've been radio-silent...
Rose x
I just came back to see if I'd missed an update, and here you are! I haven't forgotten this story and I revisit it from time to time. You've made these characters so memorable that I can't help but think of them regularly. I suppose I can wait a tiiiiny bit longer for more ;)
DeleteCongrats on the marriage and the degree!
Oh, wow! Just saw that you were back! Congratulations to you, Rose, seems that you had a successful year! That's great!
ReplyDeleteBut this is the best News, that you plan to be back! I will be so happy when Caleb will be back! As for your one-shot story, you could easily post this on Friday, since this day is reserve for single stories only. Welcome back!!!!