28. Grace
Grace
The smell of garlic permeated the air, Frank Sinatra was playing from the record player, and I was biting my now nonexistent fingernails.
Caleb took a sip from his wineglass, his lips pursing from the tart notes in this specific bottle he’d snagged from Bar. He continued peeling garlic, and I attempted chopping an onion, but my eyes kept watering.
When Caleb promised to teach me how to make his famous lasagna, I didn’t think I would run away crying, but now anything was possible.
The onions were a good excuse, but in actuality, all I wanted to do was cry.
I wanted to curl up at home under my blanket and sob.
But I really didn’t know where my home was anymore.
The brownstone was certainly not my home. The bed-and-breakfast felt cozy, but it was not home. I knew I wanted my home to be here with Caleb, but who could love me after what I’d done? I was worse than fucking Grant in some ways, and that was saying something.
I set down the knife and decided to rip off the Band-Aid. He needed to know; it was only fair.
“Caleb, I—” I blinked.
“No,” he interrupted, shaking his head.
I furrowed my eyebrows, confused. How did he know what I was about to say? Did he google me?
No—he would never.
“No?” I asked hesitantly, afraid of what was going to come out of his mouth. I couldn’t even look at him, so I studied my wineglass.
Caleb walked around the island so that he was standing in front of me. He reeked of the garlic, enough to ward off a vampire.
“No, I’m not going to let you break up with me. I know you’re scared. Fuck, I’m scared. But you can’t give up on us.” He grabbed my chin so I was looking at him square in the eye. “I love you, Grace.”
My eyes widened at his confession. I knew he felt this way for a while—there were moments where he gave himself away—but to hear it out loud … my heart swelled a hundred times.
“I know you might not be there yet, but I need you to know I’ll wait. I’m not going anywhere. And neither are you,” Caleb huffed, his blue eyes piercing into my own. It was like he was pleading with me to believe him.
But he didn’t need to prove himself to me. I knew exactly who he was, and it was time for him to know who I was as well.
“You might not want to make those promises just yet,” I muttered as I grabbed my glass and chugged the remainder of my wine.
“Did you hear me, Grace?” Caleb fumed, shaking his head in disbelief. I had never seen him so passionate. I was sure even Max didn’t get scolded like this. “I love you.” He took a deep breath.
“Yeah, well you’re in love with a killer!” I shouted, my chest heaving. I couldn’t control my reaction. All I wanted to do was tell Caleb I loved him back and bask in that blissful feeling, but instead I had to face the music.
The room went quiet. So quiet you could hear a pin drop.
Everything was spinning. I relived the past on a loop in my head.
All the looks of disdain, being exiled from the only home I ever knew, my name and face plastered everywhere, effectively killing my reputation.
My own mother thought of me as a killer.
All I could do was stay quiet, until now apparently.
His eyes widened at my confession. So many different reactions came across his face. He composed himself and studied me.
“It’s time I told you the truth. I haven’t been one hundred percent honest with you. About Julia.” A lump formed in the back of my throat just saying her name.
Caleb sat down on the stool next to me. Only when he grabbed my hand did I realize how badly I was shaking.
I had no idea where to start, so I might as well address the most important part first. “I killed my sister,” I whispered as chills covered my arms. “I killed Julia.”
“Start at the beginning,” Caleb said apprehensively, never letting go of my hand.
And so I went through Julia’s and my tumultuous past. The highs and lows. Her need for adventure. My need for my mother’s approval. How far into her lifestyle I dove for a little notoriety. I told him about the recreational drugs I did and about how hard I used to party.
And then I got to that night.
“Grant was somebody I passed time with. He meant—means—nothing to me,” I confessed. “I’ve never felt like this before.” I motioned between him and me.
Caleb’s lip turned upwards, almost smiling.
“He was supposed to accompany me to an event for a big brand I was going to represent. But I never made it to the party, and the brand dropped me as soon as the news broke.”
I paused, trying to gather my thoughts and strength.
I continued to describe Julia showing up at my door.
How she was mad at me for following my mother’s orders.
How odd she was acting that night. And then everything that happened after Grant showed up.
I explained Grant and Julia’s history of hating each other.
“I gave her the drugs that killed her.” I sobbed, unable to hold it all in anymore. Everything poured out about how Grant brought the drugs, but how I had been the one who encouraged Julia to partake. I was so messed up and just looking for connection.
“And if that wasn’t bad enough, I threw her cigarettes in the street.
” I heaved, as Caleb rubbed my back in circular motions.
I told him how Grant was egging on our fight, making things worse.
“The car—it came so fast. My memory was fuzzy, a mix between the coke and trauma, doctors concluded. I couldn’t …
I didn’t …. I killed her.” I cried, trying to wipe my tears but they kept coming. There was no use.
Offering Julia those drugs would forever haunt me.
If I only knew then what I know now–that the highs were never worth the lows.
There was silence for a few moments before he rose from his seat. I was fully prepared for Caleb to throw me out of the house. Excommunicate me from his life.
I closed my eyes, bracing for his face to mirror everyone else’s who knew the truth. “‘Graced’ with Death” is what the headlines said.
“Grace, open your eyes.”
I shook my head. Not yet . I couldn’t face him. I was an ugly crier.
“Open your eyes.” He reached for my other hand, the warmth of his seeping into my palms.
Slowly, my eyelids fluttered open, and I took in his face, inches from my own. I swallowed loudly, afraid of what was going to come next. I prided myself on my strength, but I didn’t know if Caleb hating me was something I wanted to be strong for.
Instead, when I was brave enough to look into his blue eyes, they bore into my own and had matching tears pooling in the corners.
“Grace, I’m so sorry,” Caleb whispered earnestly, grabbing my hands even tighter. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
He was the first person in my life who ever said sorry to me about Julia. I believed I didn’t deserve condolences from anybody.
I cried harder, full-on blubbering at this point. I let go of his hands so that I could clutch his shirt and burrow myself into his chest.
“I can’t believe you’ve been blaming yourself all this time.” He shook his head incredulously as he cupped my chin to make me look at him. “You couldn’t have known, Grace.”
“But—” I started to speak but was silenced by one of his fingers.
“You couldn’t have known any of that was going to happen.
Now, do I condone the drugs? No. It was reckless, but I get you were young and in that lifestyle.
There’s no way you could have known those drugs would kill her.
There’s no way you could have known the car was going to whip around the corner and hit her.
And you were intoxicated yourself, clearly in no frame of mind for sound decision-making.
You’re blaming yourself, and for what?” Caleb reasoned, caressing my cheek tenderly.
“You didn’t kill anyone. It was Julia’s choice to come to your house that night.
It was Julia’s choice to do drugs. It was Julia’s choice to run in the street to grab a pack of cigarettes.
It was a really shitty thing that happened, but it wasn’t your fault.
She made her choices, but you’re making yours now and you’re choosing wrong. ”
I looked at him, puzzled about the last sentiment.
“You’re living in limbo. It’s obvious you have been since your sister passed, and instead of being proud of how far you’ve come, you are mourning the fact that you’re living and getting to make your choices.
I know your upbringing was unconventional.
I know you had ups and downs in your old life.
What young twenty-something doesn’t? Especially when money is involved.
I’m sorry if nobody’s ever told you this, but you are worth something without a reputation, without praise from snobby rich people—no offense.
Your worth isn’t measured in what people think of you.
It’s measured in what you do for the world .
..” Caleb trailed off. “Sorry, I’m just … I’m sorry.”
I crushed my lips against his. My elbow knocked over something, presumably my wineglass. It didn’t take long for him to catch up. His tongue licked my lips, asking for entrance. I happily obliged.
I pulled away all too soon. There was something else I needed to say.
“Caleb?” I made sure he was looking at me.
His lips were plump from our make-out session, and I smiled softly. He nodded for me to continue.
“I love you too.” I barely got the “too” out before his lips were back on mine and I was being carried out of the kitchen.
I didn’t need a newspaper to tell me where I was or who I was supposed to be with.
I was exactly where I was meant to be.
For the first time in my life, everything looked like it was going to be okay.