7. Chapter Seven
Chapter seven
C aius leans on my counter like he knows a secret or the answer to a riddle no one can figure out. He’s got insider knowledge about things that can change the world. He knows where the gold is buried. There is something on his mind, and it’s going to impact me in ways I cannot measure just yet. It unnerves me, because I know exactly what it means. I’m about to watch my whole world of denial crumble around me as he somehow forces me to do everything he says, totally and completely against my iron will.
“You are literally two years older than me. That I’m older than you schtick might have worked when we were teens, but it doesn’t now. Nice try though.” He shrugs and stands upright as if he won some battle I never agreed to enter.
“Whatever. The point is that you don’t know what I’ve been going through, so you can’t walk in here and bark orders at me, expecting me to hop to it like a happy little soldier. This is my house, and if I want it dirty, then it can be dirty.”
“I did not bark orders at you, Whits.” His grin grows wider, breaking into that dashing, full, signature Cai smile.
“Fine, but you…you came in here telling me what to do.”
He arches one eyebrow and gives me a moment to listen to myself. It’s his usual routine, but this time I’m not falling for it. I absolutely can resist this man’s ability to get me to do things I don’t want to do.
He shrugs slowly and shakes his head once as if it doesn’t matter to him one way or another. It’s lies and trickery. “It’s whatever you want, beautiful, but I’m still here for you. I’ll listen to what you’ve been going through, and if I can help, then I will.” His voice softens and he takes a step closer, genuine concern in his eyes. My heart thaws a few degrees and I find my entire body swaying in his direction, beginning to see things his way.
Darn it. How does he do that? And I smell myself and realize I needed a shower three days ago. At this point, I need someone to hit me with disinfectant spray.
With a huff, I storm down the hallway to shower.
It isn’t like I don’t want a clean house, but when I can’t do half of what needs to be done in a timely manner, I get too discouraged to push through. Self-doubt and worry have never been friends of mine, but this is different. Usually, those things drive me to work harder, be better, push through until I achieve my goal. But now I don’t even know what the goal is, let alone which direction to point my frustration to achieve it.
“Scrub well,” he teases behind me, but I ignore him and huff again.
The hot water washes over me, reminding me that showers are kind of nice. Embarrassment prickles my cheeks when I think of how awful I must have looked to Caius when I opened the front door. My goodness, if I ever live this down it will be a miracle. For good measure, I wash my hair twice and use the pretty-smelling conditioner. By the time I have reconsidered my entire life and rinsed out the conditioner, the water runs cold.
I know he’s out there, probably trying to find a place to sit amongst the food containers and dirty laundry, and I’m going to have to face him again. But first—dry my hair. Buy some time. Figure out how to wipe his memory clean of ever seeing me seven days into a spiral where personal hygiene went out the window.
I’m met with the sound of a vacuum cleaner when I finally open my bedroom door and head back into the main house. Caius is diligently working in rows until my living room carpet is spotless. And by spotless, I mean there isn’t even a stitch of garbage left on it. The dining room is clean. Even the kitchen looks better despite the dishes piled on one side of the sink. My whole body heaves a great sigh and tension eases in my shoulders and neck.
When he sees me, he stands upright and turns off the vacuum. “There she is. I knew you were somewhere under that mean face you made at me.”
I ignore his tease and look around. My house hasn’t been this clean in ages. “How on earth did you manage to clean almost my entire home in less than an hour, and how do I acquire those superhero skills?”
I probably need to apologize to Jackson, because he was right. With the house clean, I feel infinitely better. This one is going to be a difficult apology to spit out.
“Meh,” he says. “I’m used to cleaning up fast at the firehouse. Besides, it wasn’t that bad. Once I got all the trash collected and piled your laundry in the washer, all that was left was wiping things down and running the vacuum. I do regret to inform you that the number of dirty dishes you accumulated will not all fit in the dishwasher, so the rest are soaking in the sink.”
“Well, I can handle those. Thank you for stopping by and helping me out. I guess I needed it more than I realized.” I try not to let my voice crack, but emotion clogs in my throat. Being clean is invigorating, and makes me want to tackle something bigger…like my lost career situation. Who would have guessed?
“It’s no problem. I know things are rough, but I really don’t mind helping you out.” He wraps the cord around the machine and rolls it back to the closet. “Oh, and I didn’t get to the bathroom yet because someone was taking the longest shower known to man.”
My cheeks flame. “It’s fine. Really. This was a huge help, and I feel like I can do the rest. Thank you again for getting me up and moving. I hate to admit it, but I do feel a little better.”
He makes no move to leave, so I head into the kitchen to distract myself. I’ve really embarrassed myself, but he’s seen me at my worst before. It was never this bad, but here we are. I dip my right hand into the water to make sure I won’t scald my other hand, then dive in. The warmth of the water is completely lost on my left hand, but I try to work through the sensation by rubbing a sponge over a pot. Even the scrubbing side of the sponge feels different than it should, and it hits me all wrong. It builds on my already frustrated mind until I find myself sobbing over the sink. I should be glad I even have grip, but I can’t muster the gladness for even that much.
“Hey, what’s wrong? What happened?” Cai steps into the kitchen and immediately checks the water. “Is it too hot?”
I whine because I’ve been doing that a lot lately, and throw the sponge back into the water with enough aggression to fling suds into the air. “I hate it. I hate it.”
Cai’s eyes dart between me and the sink full of water. “The sponge?”
“No!” I cry. “I hate that I can barely feel the water, that the sponge feels like wet sand, and nothing else I touch feels like it should. I can’t just relearn how things feel! I can’t forget how the same, everyday things I used to feel only three months ago are so different now.”
He doesn’t point out that I still have feeling in one hand. It isn’t like I can’t feel those things at all, but like a festering wound, I can’t stop picking apart what I can’t do. It’s something I can’t explain to Jackson or our parents. Even Deni seems to be annoyed with me at times, but a person can’t simply turn off their memories. A sponge is supposed to feel like a sponge. Water is supposed to feel like water. And the thousands of other things I touch in a day are supposed to feel right, not all wrong.
Caius, who never really understood personal space, is in mine before I finish my sentence. He slides his arm around my shoulders and pulls me close into a hug. “It’s okay. I understand.” He rubs up and down my back and squeezes me. “Go sit and relax. I’ll wash the dishes.”
Despite the warm and comfortable feeling that surrounds me from being in his arms, I sniffle and push away. “No. That’s ridiculous. You’ve done so much already. I should be able to manage a few dishes.” Ignoring his request, I turn around and dive back in. With everything I have, I work to convince myself that this is normal. I can do this. I’ve treated traumatic chest injuries, performed open-heart surgeries, and saved lives. I can wash the stupid dishes even if I can’t feel the sponge properly with both hands.
I ponder the difference between the sensation in my fingers. Maybe most of them are numb, but I most certainly can feel Caius move behind me and wrap his arms around me. His hands meet mine beneath the water, and his soft breaths tickle my cheek. He grapples with the sponge but gains enough control over it and my hand to help me.
“This might sound insane, but try to focus more on the task than how it feels. You’re not here to feel the water or the dishes, but to clean them and move on to the next thing.”
I swallow my nerves and nod. “It’s not that easy, Cai. What should be a simple task feels monumental.”
“It’s a good thing you’ve always been great at tackling the monumental tasks in life. You still can. You’re the same person,” he whispers, his breath tickling my ear.
“You don’t know that. You don’t know anything about me these last few years.”
“Yeah, I do know that. You were the most constant and steady person I knew, and I can’t see any way someone like that can change completely.” His chest rumbles with each word, wrapping me in a closeness I haven’t felt in a long time. Three months to be exact. Not since I last saw my ex-boyfriend, the very one who broke up with me over the phone the night of the accident. I haven’t spoken to him since.
I look down to see the dishes are done. Caius distracted me long enough for me to finish a task mostly on my own, with his guidance, and a small nugget of satisfaction shines a tiny light on the darkness. I showered and sort of did the dishes today.
And got way, way too close to a man who still seems to know me too well. A shiver shoots down my spine and he steps back, almost as if he only just realized how close he is. He drips water all over my kitchen floor for a moment, simply staring at me, then he shakes his head and reaches for a towel.
“Sorry, I’ll clean this up.” His cheeks are flushed.
I’m not sure what happened between us a moment ago, but it doesn’t help my already delicate mental state. I watch while he wipes up the water and drapes the towel over the sink to dry. Now that I’ve cleaned up and the house is in some sort of order again, there’s really no reason for him to be here.
“Thank you for stopping by. You can tell my brother you succeeded where he failed,” I say.
He smiles and leans against the counter. “Good to know. I have an idea. Want to go for a ride with me? I’ll buy you something fun.”
“You mean on the death trap on wheels? No thank you. One devastating accident in a lifetime is enough for me.”
He grins. “Nah, it was raining this morning so I took my car. You’ll be safe and sound while I feel boxed into a little prison on wheels.”
I haven’t left my house in a couple of weeks, and now that I’m clean, I can’t deny that I want to see something more than the dead plants and floral wallpaper of my home. Besides, going somewhere with Caius is safe. I think.
“Come on, Whits. Spend some time with me. Let me annoy you properly.”
I groan and shake my head, sure I’ll regret what I’m about to say. “Sure, why not?”
His brilliant Cai smile spreads across his face again, making my heart stop. Ten years have perfected that smile, and I have a good feeling I’m about to find myself in a precarious position if I don’t set up some boundaries.
“Fantastic. Come on.” He offers his hand, even now ready to lead me into the unknown.