Candle In The Wind

Chapter Forty Three

Would there be something inside of me if I opened myself up?

“If Christian shows up to the shop again, record him, okay? Video footage or voice notes, anything, and don’t hesitate to call the police,”

I overheard Juliette say over the phone. Then after a while she ended the call.

She locked herself up in her room with Clay—like she’d been for the past two days. She hadn’t been going to work but she knew everything that was happening thanks to Ava. She was smart to avoid me by waiting for me to head to work then coming out and get food and roam around the house. Clay cried but not for long, She changed him, fed him, and always waited for me to leave to come out to clean the bottles.

When Florence got here, she opened the door for her and ignored my messages and calls and just pretended I never existed all together. Ever since Chrisian, her ex-fiancé, or whatever he was nowadays, had come into town Juliette became a different person—a careful, fragile version of herself I never knew existed.

It was like she erased completely and redrawn.

Today would be different. I didn’t go to work, I sat in the living room outside waiting for her to come out.

It was just past two p.m. when she finally came out.

“Jesus Christ! You scared me.”

She placed a hand over her chest as she gripped an empty baby bottle.

“Are you running late today?”

she asked as her eyes roamed the room like she would find the reason why I was still here, “I was just going to wash Clay’s bottle—”

“Let’s go to the beach today,”

I cut her off.

“The beach?”

she repeated dumbfounded, “it’s dead of October, the wind is harsh and cold outside, Clay—”

I stood. “He’ll be bundled up, sweetheart. That kind of exposure is good for him, the sun is still out, I think the ocean air will do us some good,”

I said, “it might even provide clarity.” I sighed, “and I can’t stand to watch you suffocate any longer.”

Her brows furrowed. “M-me?”

I had no idea what Juliette wore because she was wearing this huge coat that covered pretty much every part of herself. Clay was attached to her chest with the baby carrier and hidden under her big, long coat. I didn’t protest because she was there—definitely not held up in her room but at the beach.

She was right, the breeze was a bit cold, but it felt nice. The air smelled salty and fresh.

Juliette stood still in the sand as water washed over her feet. She didn’t close her eyes like anyone else would naturally to bask under the sun—she stared at the unknown, the stretched sea that didn’t reach an end. She didn’t move, she just blinked as the wind moved swiftly against her.

We could stay like this forever, I thought.

While she stared off, into the distance, I was there too, staring at her.

It felt like destiny, like I was born to be by Juliette’s side. Like I was made for her—since we were kids, it’d always been hard not to reach out to her.

I’ve never once craved love, somehow, I always thought it was the one thing I didn’t need—or rather never searched for—though I’d been looking for Juliette for a very long time without knowing what it meant. I just remembered her, missing her…the light that never went out in her eyes. It was a warm feeling I grew attached to. No one else had ever sparked even a fraction of that feeling.

My heart is strong because she’s in it.

“Why does it feel like you’re doing something?”

I said loudly.

“I am doing something,”

she replied.

“What?”

“Sinking.”

“C’mon,”

I dragged Val inside the house with Clay in my arms. He glared at me. Probably alarmed and confused because I called him over to my house so late in the afternoon.

I had no choice.

“Juliette needs help,”

he said in a monotone voice as he repeated what I texted him earlier. “So cryptic, you didn’t even tell me what she needed help with,” he grumbled under his breath as he took off his coat. “Nice house.”

“She’s been in her room all afternoon,”

I explained.

Val looked at me blankly before his brows slowly pulled together and his mouth dropped open. His reaction clearly told me he thought I was stupid.

“Who wouldn’t lock themselves in a fucking room with you hovering like this?”

I sighed as I closed my eyes, stress was eating me from the inside out.

“She’s been like this for weeks, Val, it started off slow and I didn’t notice because she was still functioning like she usually did, but then something happened like she’s been triggered or something—”

I tried to reason with him, “she hasn’t been going to work, don’t you find that weird?”

Val sighed as he sent me a sympathetic look. “She just had a baby, Cal, I think they call this postpartum depression.”

I grew annoyed. “Well, if it is postpartum depression don’t you think she should be talking to somebody about it?”

He bit his lips as he slowly agreed, nodding his head as I nodded mine.

Since we got off the beach Juliette had been locked in her room. Florence would be here in a few minutes, so she left Clay in my care. She said she was going to wash up and that was over three hours ago, and she hadn’t come out. I was starting to get really worried.

Val followed me as I walked into the kitchen. I was in the middle of making dinner. I had Clay’s sleeper troll rocker on top of the island so I could keep a close eye on him while I cooked. It was just thirty minutes until I was done. I made tuscan soup with white beans. If Clay could eat, he’d love it, I knew it.

I opened the fridge and handed Val a water bottle.

“Thank you…”

he glanced down at my apron, “Mr. Good Lookin’.”

I rolled my eyes as Clay started to fuss, which meant that soon he’d start crying. I searched the kitchen trying to look through the mess to find his bottle.

“Let me see.”

Val opened his arms to hold Clay.

I carefully passed Clay into his arms and gave up on finding the bottle and decided to make a new one instead.

“What are you making?”

“Tuscan soup with white beans.”

Val groaned as he cringed. “My god! Couldn’t you have ordered Chinese or something?”

“I thought about it, but our doula said strong, healthy food will be good for Juliette’s recovery,”

I said, “Plus, I’m actually not that bad at cooking, I just have to follow the recipe.”

“Whatever.”

Val whispered under his breath as I warmed Clay’s new bottle.

Surprisingly, he wasn’t crying in Val’s arms.

“Hey, how come Clay looks so much like you?”

he chuckled.

I shrugged. “He’s my nephew. I wouldn’t be too shocked if he resembled me a little,”

I chuckled as I shook the bottle, “he’s lucky he got my good looks.”

“Yeah, let’s hope he doesn’t get that personality too,”

Val replied dryly.

I glared at him as I grabbed Clay from Val and fed him his bottle.

“Are you sure she’s not just tired?” he asked.

“Maybe, Val,”

I responded, “I hope she’s just really tired,” I mumbled under my breath watching Clay blink as he stared at me. His eyes were really the exact replica of Juliette’s.

I melted as I looked at him, wondering what growing up for him would look like. Would Ardley ever snap out of it and get his act together to take care of him or would Juliette take care of him without Ardley? My parents and I could always help but Clay would need his father, it was vital for him. I know it was terrible and there was no way possible to tell Ardley that he has to let Celeste go, that she was already gone and would never come back but he had a beautiful son that was there now—a son that needed him. In some fucked up way I think it was what Celeste would’ve wanted.

If he spent too much time in his past he’d miss the present before he knew it—and it’d be too late.

“She’s not talking to me either,”

Ava said as she emerged from the hallway.

“What? What are you doing here?”

Val quickly asked as he looked at me then looked back at Ava.

I pulled the empty bottle from Clay lips and placed it on the counter, he was starting to fall asleep.

“I called you because you’re practically her best friend and I called Ava because you know…”

We both looked at Ava.

“Because I’m a woman,”

she finished as she rolled her eyes, “has she eaten anything yet?”

I shook my head, “no.”

Val glared at me, “no?”

“I just made soup, and I’ve got green grapes from H-mart in the fridge, and cookies,”

I pointed at the store-bought box of cookies on the counter near the baby rocker.

“I’ll just bring her soup,” Val said.

“Bowls are in the top cabinet.”

I turned to point then turned around again and started to fix Clay in his rocker but I realized he was fully asleep now. I could place him in his crib away from all of this.

“Did she talk about anything at all?”

I asked Ava as I brought Clay back to my chest.

“She only asked for Clay,”

Ava said as she sent me a sad look, “she wanted to know if he ate and stuff.”

I nodded.

“The soup is in the bowl!”

Val said triumphantly.

“Grab a serving tray from that cabinet.”

I pointed again. I grabbed a little bowl and grabbed green grapes from the fridge, slowly moving using one arm and holding Clay in the other. I washed the grapes and added them to the bowl and placed them in the tray next to the soup.

“Grab an orange juice from the fridge and follow me to her room.”

Val opened the fridge and immediately whipped his head in my direction. “You stock juice like a psychopath,”

he said as he grabbed a small bottle of orange juice. I think he meant that I stock juice like a vending machine.

Val followed me until we reached Juliette’s room down the hall.

He knocked twice then announced himself before he entered the room. Before he closed the door, I peeked inside.

She was curled on the bed with her blanket over her. I noticed the used tissues that were on her bed table.

“Hey, Jules…”

Val whispered softly then turned around to close the door shut.

My eyebrows shot up as I tried tilting my head to the side to keep my eyes on her since Val was blocking the way, “I’ll just put…”

He closed the door, “Clay to bed,” I finished as I sighed.

Has she been crying?

I opened Clay’s door. His room smelled like a sea of white lilies. Thanks to the candle Ava got us from the baby shower. She said she went through a lot of trouble to find a baby-friendly candle. It was Juliette’s favorite scent, and it had to be safe for the baby.

I blew out the candle after putting Clay to bed because I didn’t want to take my chances. I wasn’t comfortable lighting up the candle around him. I turned on his baby monitor and gently closed the door on my way out.

“You’re a good person, Cal,”

Ava said when I reached the kitchen.

I nodded, almost unsure of how to respond to that, “thank you?”

She started on the cleaning process which I was incredibly thankful for.

I took the baby rocker off the island and joined Ava with the cleaning up.

“If you don’t mind me asking,”

Ava began as she collected the dirty dishes and started loading the dishwasher instead of washing them by hand, “are you guys dating?”

I hiccupped.

Probably too fucking shocked or taken aback by the question.

More surprised than shocked, less shocked than happy. Juliette and I never set terms and I’ve been following her lead all along. She had every ounce of control over me and our relationship.

Dating Juliette had mostly been all I thought about, but I hadn’t found the right time to talk to her or ask her how she truly felt about me. A series of unfortunate events had been set in motion and that idea was getting pushed further in the back of my mind.

I didn’t even realize how long I was in shock for until Ava pressed a cold water bottle against my skin.

“I don’t know,”

I finally replied as I grabbed the water bottle from her. I set the bottle down and started gathering the used glasses on the island table.

“I can see how much you care about her,” she said.

I remained silent as I opened the water bottle and took a sip.

She sighed. “Christian is a fucking asshole.”

Anybody could see that.

“He has no right to come into her shop every day, practically harassing her,”

she said angrily, almost slamming my dishwasher shut, “I know guys like him…they suffocate you until you’re nothing.” She pushed the power on.

Juliette never explained the entirety of her relationship with that bastard. She didn’t owe me an explanation but all I knew was the fact that they got engaged and she ran off on him and owed him money since he helped her open her first store.

“I overheard them last week in her office,”

she used her hand to push her hair back, “he called her a dog.” Her voice shook. I heard the horror in her tone.

I froze, my blood ran cold as I clenched my jaw and bawled my hand into a fist. I squeezed so hard the glass cracked…then silently, it shattered completely.

I was so angry I couldn’t breathe. My lips tightened as my nostril flared.

I couldn’t think straight.

Under all that anger there was sadness, she was enduring all of that alone.

Why was she going through it alone?

Why?

She could tell me or at least someone what that asshole had been saying to her.

How could she not tell anyone?

If she was really sinking, I could sink with her and when things got better we could both come up.

“Cal, you’re bleeding,”

Ava whispered as she took a hold of my hand, I quickly pulled my hand away, oblivious to the pain.

I pulled out my phone and called Crystal.

It didn’t matter how late it was, she always picked up on the third ring.

“Can you find out which room Christian is staying in at the Four Seasons?”

“Got it,”

she replied without a question.

I hung up and shoved the phone back into my pocket and grabbed a kitchen towel off the stove, wrapping it around my cut—it wasn’t anything deep.

“You okay?”

Ava asked.

I nodded as I opened the pantry, grabbed the broom, swept up the glass on the floor, and threw it away.

I knew I was right to have a file on Christian Hale.

He’s a rich entitled bastard, but really it’s all his parents’ money. He lies for a living. Pretending to be a decent human being.

“Well she certainly felt ambushed.”

Val said as he joined us in the kitchen.

He stared at the cloth wrapped around my hand, it was soaking with blood now.

“What…happened?”

He looked at me.

“It was an accident.”

His brows furrowed. “She’s asking for you.”

Without a beat I pushed past him and walked until I reached her door and shoved it open.

My breath shook and I became afraid to approach her. I was starting to feel ashamed. When Christian came into town instead of asking her how she felt I was overcome with jealousy. Even after she explained her situation to me I offered to fix it with money like it meant nothing.

I felt like shit.

Her food was completely untouched on the nightstand.

“Why did you call them?”

she asked quietly.

“I was worried,”

I answered honestly.

She sighed, “I don’t know why everyone’s so worried, I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine,”

I whispered, “you keep saying that but you’re not.”

She stayed silent. I took a step forward—her back faced me—she was still in that same position I saw her in earlier.

The separation killed me, something was wrong—I knew it. She was hurting all this time and I’d done nothing about it.

“I know you’re going through something right now, but you have to share it with somebody, it doesn’t have to be me,”

I paused as I released a heavy breath, “the darkness that’s inside of us is not meant to stay, Juliette, otherwise the light will never find its way in—and the longer you hold onto that darkness the harder it will be for you to let go.” She hadn’t turned around to face me yet, but I walked towards the bed and sat on the edge. “You have to do it now when it’s easy.”

She didn’t say anything, she just laid there with the cover wrapped around her face. I looked around the room, the curtains were pulled shut and there was a pile of clothes next to my foot. Juliette had confined herself in here pretending to be okay.

“Juliette,”

I called out softly as I glanced at her over my shoulder, “just cry.” I sighed, “don’t force yourself to feel better when you feel like crying.”

I tilted my head to the side, then she looked straight at me. I could see everything she’d been suppressing in her eyes.

“It’s okay to just…cry.”

She sighed, “do you remember us when we were little?”

I instantly nodded. “Of course.”

“I don’t,”

she replied dryly, “I barely do nowadays,” there was a pause and I could hear her breath softly, “I just remember the feeling of sinking, my parents were always arguing, they barely noticed me—it always felt like I had to apologize for just breathing—I was nothing.” She sniffed.

“I’m nothing,”

she whispered as she cried. “I’m nothing, I’m nothing, I’m nothing,” she chanted the words as she sobbed.

And I felt it—my heart shatter with her words. Her voice shook, she was scared, feeling so alone.

It was scary because I felt how much she meant it.

Like a reflex, I fully joined her on the bed and flushed my chest against her as I held her. My heart hurt listening to her cry and not being able to do anything about it.

“How can you say that, my love?”

I whispered against her ear as I held her tight.

“You’re everything.”

Tears were welding into my eyes. “Everything,” I repeated.

“I don’t know if you can feel it, but my heart is beating like crazy, and it’s all because of you. Sure it’s because of the human anatomy I have a beating heart.”

I smiled softly against her skin, she smelled like Clay. “But the rest is because of you,” I said, “I surrendered my heart to you the second you kissed me on that hill—hell, I’ve surrendered my heart to you since we were kids.”

I knew it, my heart felt it, I finally admitted it.

“You’re Clay’s whole entire world,” I added.

Juliette slowly relaxed into my arms, but I could still hear her sniff—still crying. She wrapped her arms around mine and grabbed my hand that’s wrapped in the towel, nearly bright red, “what happened?”

“Nothing, sweetheart.”

I leaned over and kissed her cheek, “how are you feeling?”

“Like shit,”

she replied, “does it hurt?” She traced her finger over the towel.

“No.”

We stayed like that for a while. I don’t think it was long—but it was a nice moment. She eventually stopped crying and just stayed in my arms. She was warm and I felt relieved—maybe now that she finally said those things out loud she’d feel better. Things like that weren’t meant to be bottled up inside. Even if it wasn’t true, I was glad she finally said it.

“Are you gonna eat?”

I asked, breaking our brief moment of silence.

She swallowed. “I actually have to pee—”

“Oh!”

I quickly moved my arms, freeing her from my hold, “yeah, sorry.”

“Yeah, no, it’s okay,”

she mumbled as she sat up, “um, I’ll eat the uh– soup, I just have to go pee first, but you can send Ava and Val home.”

I nodded. “Yeah, of course. I’ll do that,”

I said as I stood.

Juliette disappeared into the bathroom and I was left frozen in the room—stuck with a dilemma— I wanted to stay in the room and care for her, which I knew sounded strange as I thought about it but I wanted to see her actually eat. I wanted to help her take a shower and then hold her in my arms until she fell asleep but unfortunately the two people I called for help were still here.

I sighed, “c’mon Cal, let’s go,”

I whispered as I wrapped both hands around my thigh and finally pulled my leg up, forcing myself to walk out of the room. Walking got easier once I made it out of Juliette’s room.

“You guys should stay for dinner, I’ll grab you guys a bowl of soup,”

I said as I smiled at them. They awkwardly looked at each other then sat back down.

“Thank you for staying,”

I said as I opened the cabinets to grab three bowls.

“There’s um, there’s a lady in Clay’s room,”

Val said in a worried tone.

I brought the first two bowls of soup over the table and glanced at Val who was all the way in the kitchen. “Our doula, Florence.”

“You guys got a doula?”

He turned to look at Ava. “What’s a doula?”

I chuckled.

“It’s a babysitter but fancier,”

Ava answered. I grabbed my bowl of soup and three bottles of water and walked to the dining table.

Val hummed as they stood to join me at the dinner table.

We all sat down but before anybody could eat, I spoke again. “Do you really think it’s postpartum depression?”

I looked at Val and he immediately pulled back like he wasn’t sure anymore.

He shrugged, “yeah?”

Ava turned to look at Val. “Postpartum depression? Really Val?”

He didn’t dare to look back at her.

“Do you even know what that is?”

“She’s depressed, isn’t she?”

Val defended.

“Yeah, she’s depressed, but not postpartum depressed.”

“What’s postpartum depression? What are the signs for that?”

I asked as I leaned in.

Ava turned towards me and her expression changed from annoyed to a look like she was finding a way to answer my question.

She scratched the back of her head. “It occurs after childbirth. It’s a medical condition, just sadness and anxiety and feeling tired all the time—and difficulty bonding with the baby.”

She nodded. “Yeah, we can all see that.”

She slowly turned her head in Val’s direction who was sitting right next to her. Her shoulders dropped as she sighed, “but she could still be depressed.”

Yeah, and the source of this was Christian Hale.

I swallowed thickly.

“Thank you for explaining,”

I said as I grabbed my spoon. Val and Ava followed and grabbed their own spoons to start eating the soup.

I paused, smiling at them, a little excited to catch their reactions. This was the first time I made anything other than some sort of pasta. Ardley used to tell me to stick to pasta, it was all I was good at, but maybe not anymore.

Maybe I was good at making soup too.

Ava and Val both took a spoonful and froze. There was an uncomfortable look on their faces. Val looked like he was panicking with the way his eyes nearly bulged out of his head, and Ava looked like she wanted to cry the way her eyebrows pulled together.

“What? That good?” I smiled.

Val finally swallowed, reaching for his water bottle with urgency and downed at least half of it in one go. Ava unfortunately did not swallow. She spat the soup back into the bowl with disgust.

I frowned in horror.

“What the fuck!?”

Val raised his voice as his body went rigid. “What did you put in there? Just salt?”

“Did Juliette eat that?”

Ava asked in horror.

Val chuckled. “This shit will knock that depression right out of her and kill her after.”

Ava looked nauseous as she pushed herself up and left the room.

I looked at him dumbfounded. “It can’t be that bad,”

I mumbled as I pushed a spoonful of soup into my mouth. My brows immediately scrunched together as I balled my hand into a fist. My nose flared as I forced myself to swallow the salty content.

“It’s awful,”

I said in a groggy tone, coughing in the process. “I think I messed up my throat,” I mumbled under my breath. There was a tangy aftertaste that I couldn’t describe but it just wouldn’t roll off my tongue.

Val leaned back and let down his hair before gathering it again and pulling it back into a bun, “Next time just kill us.”

Maybe I should only stick with pasta.