33. Hudson
HUDSON
I’m only minutes from my high-rise, a silhouette against the evening sky, when my phone jolts to life with a text.
Belinda
Have you checked your email?
I frown, reading her words, a strange feeling prickling at the end of my spine. Though she’s been copied on work emails during her time off, I hate her working when she still has another week at home with the baby. And though I know she will do whatever she wants, because it’s just who she is, she hasn’t messaged me about work-related items all summer. So the fact that she’s messaging me now means it must be something that needs my immediate attention.
Without responding to her, I flip my email app open to search for what she might be referring to when my eyes land on a subject line that has the blood draining from my face. It takes me a second to process before I note who it’s from.
My Resignation.
It’s an email from Kavi sent less than five minutes ago, carbon copied to HR and stripped of the snark and humor from the first resignation she left on my desk months ago.
The one that had me chasing her into an elevator and begging her to stay. The one that had me concocting a plan to keep her around, even though all my instincts fought against it.
I was drawn to her like iron to a magnet even then. Even after the unusual way we’d met, the universe decided to drop her back into my life as if it had a predestined plan.
The words, “effective immediately,” flash at me like a flickering exit sign, each syllable pricking my skin with a thousand needles. I have to read them multiple times to interpret their meaning as if I’m reading an ancient language.
Effective immediately?
Questions flood my mind like a teeming river. She still had another week at Case Geo . . . Did something happen? Did her mom become sicker, and now Kavi needs additional time to take care of her? Did her new employer change her start date? Did she just need an extra week to sort things out?
But if any of this was the case, why wouldn’t she tell me? Why wouldn’t she give me a heads up before sending her formal resignation?
Sure, we haven’t spoken much since the night Maddy showed up unexpectedly at my apartment, but I thought that was because Kavi was just busy with her mom. She said as much in response to the texts I had sent her.
Did I miss something?
It sure feels like it. It’s as if I’m looking at a puzzle from a distance, but not able to point out the missing piece.
Did I overlook a subtle clue or hesitation from her in my eagerness to believe we were okay? Or was I too preoccupied with everything going on in Portland to realize we weren’t?
“Fuck.” I curse under my breath, loud enough for Aaron to meet my eyes through the rearview mirror.
My leg bounces restlessly as I wait for him to turn into my entryway, each passing second feeling like an eternity. As soon as he comes to a stop, my feet hit the pavement and I rush through the double doors of my building, anxiety and foreboding thrumming through my veins, echoing the drumming of my heart.
Every step forward feels like one toward the unknown, yet I’m inexorably pulled to it with an urgent need to know. To uncover the truth for myself.
Instinct, suspicion, or just plain nerves twist my stomach into knots, but I push through, intent on getting to her. Finding her.
She said we’d talk tonight. Didn’t she? I scroll through fragments of my memories from the past few days, recalling our agreement to talk tonight. Or did she?
I repeatedly jab my finger into the button for my floor, as if my impatience will make the elevator move any faster, all the while noting my agitated stance. My shoulders are bunched, a furrow between my brows reflects back at me from the polished stainless-steel doors. I shift uncomfortably on my feet.
She quit?
Sure, she only had a week left, but to just quit without so much as a warning? It doesn’t seem right. She’s never spared my feelings in the past, having been brutally honest when I’ve fucked up. So why not offer me that same honesty before quitting?
Something isn’t adding up.
Hurried feet take me to my door and I wrangle my key into the lock, swinging it open and noting how even the air feels different inside.
Still.
Vacant.
Lacking the warmth that was here just last week.
Silence reverberates like a cacophony over every space my eyes wander, and I immediately gather the changes.
Like the lack of her baking sheets and cake pans strewn across my kitchen counters. Like the missing lemon-printed hand towels hanging off my oven handle, giving my kitchen a splash of color. A splash of her.
Like the removed nightlights, no longer illuminating my hallways.
It’s like I’d instinctually known, even before I made my way up here. Like my brain had accounted for the missing limb before my body had processed it.
That she was gone.
But where? And why?
My heart sinks to my toes, my weighted steps dragging me toward her bedroom door, insistent on knowing for sure, clinging to the hope that I’m wrong. That she’ll walk out of her bathroom like she was here all along.
But reality proves otherwise.
Her bed is made, the window shades drawn, but aside from the fact that I can still smell her vanilla and lemon scent in every molecule that hangs in the air, I know that’s all I’ll find of her in here.
I jumpout of my truck, the slam of my door booming against an otherwise quiet, dimly lit street as I stride purposefully toward Kavi’s house. It’s the only place I can assume she’d be.
After calling her several times only to listen to her voicemail, I decided enough was enough. She’d promised me a conversation tonight, and I sure as fuck deserve one. I would have preferred a private venue, and I’ll try to convince her to step out onto the porch or into my truck to talk, but if it has to be at her mom’s house, then so be it.
My fist rises to meet the door, and though anxiety and irritation dilute my veins like a volatile concoction, I force myself back from pounding on it. I draw in a steadying breath, bracing myself as the door swings open, hoping to meet the amber-colored eyes of the woman I’m here to see, only to be met with another pair entirely.
Kavi’s mother’s gaze flickers with both surprise and expectation before she gives me a tight smile. “Mr. Case. How can I help you?”
Angling forward, I strain to catch a glimpse of Kavi over her shoulder, my desperation written all over my face. “I’m here to see Kavi. Is she here?”
The lines around her mother’s eyes deepen before she offers me a weary smile, empathy and resignation etched in her expression. “I’m sorry, but Kavi already left.”
Her words pierce the air with a sharp jab, her gentle tone in opposition to the havoc rising inside me.
Left?
The revelation lands like a blow, and I clear my throat, gathering my composure. “Where did she go?”
The tightness in her stance loosens, her shoulders sagging, perhaps as she notes the concern in my face, my voice. Can she see the fissure forming inside my chest, too? “Portland. She left a couple of hours ago. Her flight should be landing in the next hour or so.”
The ground feels unsteady under my feet as the finality of her words register inside my brain. Anguish claws at my ribs as I release a breath, but keep everything I want to say—to ask—locked behind my lips.
She’s not the person I want any answers from; hell, she probably wouldn’t be able to answer my questions, anyway. And the only person who can didn’t feel the need to before she left.
“I see,” I reply, my voice hollow as I take a step back. In truth, I don’t see at all, actually, but it’s about all I can muster up as a response.
I’m half-way to my truck when Kavi’s mother’s accented words have me freezing in my spot. “Fear is a bottomless pit, Mr. Case. No matter what you pour into it, it’ll demand more.”
My brows fold and I retrace my steps back to her, my curiosity piqued by her cryptic words. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
She swallows as if contemplating her next words. “Some people fear losing,” she shrugs, “it’s understandable, but did you know some even fear winning? Some fear the dark, but surprisingly, some fear the light, too. We all fear betrayal, don’t we? But I bet some of us fear the responsibility that comes with having someone’s trust, too. It’s a never ending list, to be honest, but do you know the only thing really worth being fearful of, Mr. Case?”
I stand silent and still under the depth of her gaze and the weight of her words.
“Finding love,” she continues. “Or a connection so deep that it reshapes your priorities. Finding a person who accepts your flaws, yet pushes you to grow. Someone who understands you in a way that no one else has, who breaches your defenses and grabs a hold of your heart, despite your efforts to shield it. Finding that someone who becomes the sunshine on your gloomiest days, the center of your world amidst the chaos.” She nods, as if she’s seeing something well past her words. “Because when you find that kind of love, you also find the greatest fear of all . . . the fear of losing it.”
Her words hit me like a relentless downpour, creating an ache so fucking excruciating, it threatens to suffocate me.
“My words weren’t just meant for you, Mr. Case. I said the exact same thing to Kavi before she left. You’ve been quite the beacon of light in her sometimes dim world. And though I don’t know exactly what led to her leaving so soon, I do know this . . . she no longer fears losing your love.” Her eyes dim, a cloud of melancholy settling over them. “Because she believes she never had it to begin with.”
It’sfascinating how little moments with someone become the only thing you crave when they’re gone.
The way her eyes trailed over me when I walked into a meeting.
The gentle glide of her thumbs over my scruff.
Her soft intake of breath when my lips grazed over her neck.
Each memory is like an agonizing echo, a reminder of what’s now out of reach.
It’s all I can do not to release the roar I feel rising inside me. A roar that would give way to the frustration and sorrow surrounding my insides.
If she only knew . . .
I’m still sitting in my parked truck an hour later, my head leaning against the warm leather headrest, while staring out into the darkened sky when my phone buzzes with an unusually long string of texts.
My heart leaps inside my chest before it plummets like a stone as my eyes wander over the words, each one like a dagger piercing through the fragile barrier that guards my heart.
Kavi
Hey, Hudson. Based on the several missed calls from you, I assume you’ve read my resignation and have realized I’ve left. I am sure you have questions about my abrupt departure and want to chat, but please respect my wishes for this to be our final communication.
Per your words, the terms were clear. This thing between us was never meant to be more than a fling, and I apologize for letting myself get carried away. Though I won’t apologize for falling for you, for loving you.
Somewhere in the middle of it all, I started believing in forever when, silly me, I should have known better than anyone that there is no such thing. There is only now, this moment, the present. Nothing else is guaranteed. It’s the actions we take in the present that matter, and so, I decided to take my present into my own hands and do what was best for me.
I want you to know that I don’t blame you. I should have known better and listened to the words you were saying rather than read between the lines for the ones you never did.
I have no regrets about our time together and I’ll cherish every moment we shared, but I couldn’t stay longer knowing it was going to end, anyway. Knowing my love wasn’t enough.
Goodbye, Hudson. I wish you nothing but the best. -Love, Kavi
I read her text again in complete shock, my heart shattering inside my chest, my world collapsing like a sandcastle swept away by a sudden wave.
Pulling up her contact, I dial her number again, clinging to the sliver of hope that perhaps this time she’ll answer. It rings once before sending me to voicemail, leaving me with nothing but the echo of her voice on the other side. I resist the urge to leave her another message, knowing that my countless others have likely been left unheard.
My fingers fly over the keys with a will of their own, the words pouring out before I even have a chance to fully comprehend what I’m even typing.
Me
Kav, please call me. We need to talk. There are things you don’t know . . . things you should know. Don’t do this without hearing me out.
I send her another message, the words spilling out in a torrent of emotion—words that should have been said face to face, where she could have looked into my eyes and seen the depth of my feelings for her.
Me
I do fucking love you, baby. Please, just give me a chance to tell you in person.
Except both texts turn a different color, like she hasn’t received them.
Did she block me?
My frustration boils over, my fist slamming against my steering wheel, eliciting a short honk from my car. Clenching my hair inside my palm, I curse under my breath.
Fucking hell, she blocked me!
Not only did she choose to break things off with a text, but she shut down all communication.
But why? Where did that come from? Is it because we still hadn’t discussed our future with only a week left?
Yes, it was fucking risky of me to have kept everything from her, to not have confided in her about my plan, but fuck, I wanted to surprise her!
And as far as telling her I loved her? Hadn’t I shown it with every fucking action?
Hadn’t I torn my goddamn chest open and shown her my bleeding heart? Hadn’t I bared my soul with every gentle caress and every all-consuming kiss, showing exactly how much she meant to me? Had she not heard any of my whispered confessions, felt any of my raw desire?
What were those, if not admissions of love?
I’ve never said those words to anyone but Madison—not even to my parents or Jett—and even then, they’re rarely said. I grew up in a family that never exchanged them freely, so they’ve always felt foreign and forced on my lips . . . like they were a formality for something that should have been shown instead.
But, fuck, Kavi didn’t know that.
She gave them to me without a second thought, with every ounce of sincerity, and expected to have them returned. She deserved to have them returned.
But clearly, I’m too late.
An unsettling feeling tickles the back of my mind like an itch I can’t quite scratch. Something I just read in her text but shouldn’t have. Something that has me pulling up her message again, searching for the exact words.
Per your words, the terms were clear. This thing between us was never meant to be more than a fling . . .
Per my words?
What words?
My brain races, trying to recollect the words she claims I said. When did I ever—
And then it hits me like a ton of bricks.
Holy shit!
A roll of nausea dances inside my gut as my mind finds the missing puzzle piece that explains Kavi’s strange behavior ever since the night Maddy came over.
She fucking heard me talking to Maddy that night. She heard me, but clearly, she didn’t hear everything.
Pressing my fingers to my forehead, I replay every moment from the night Maddy came over and all my plans seemingly went to shit . . .