Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Alice
I didn’t let myself sleep long. Just enough to take the unbearable edge off. When I woke, I washed my face in the bathroom, careful not to look too hard at my reflection. I wasn’t quite ready to see what I looked like—especially not when I had to face Caleb.
Not that he cared what I looked like.
But I did.
I found him in the kitchen, and he wasn’t alone.
His mom was pouring coffee into a mug, looking as put together as always.
Her pale-blonde hair was a silky sheet over her shoulder, and her casual athleisure seemed tailored to her body.
She moved with easy confidence, tipping a splash of milk into the mug and humming softly as she stirred it.
Caleb was leaning against the counter, his arms folded across the vast expanse of his chest. He was scruffy and rumpled and beautiful.
Elena’s only reaction to the sight of me—to the mess I knew I was—was a slight flare of her pretty blue eyes.
“Alice, darling, there you are. I brought you clothes.” She patted the pile of folded cotton on the island. “I assumed you wouldn’t want to stay in those scrubs any longer than necessary.”
“Thank you so much.” I practically fell on the new clothes. “I want to feel terrible you went out of your way for me, but you’re right. I can’t stand to be in these scrubs another minute.”
“Don’t you dare feel terrible.” She rounded the island to stand in front of me, smoothed my hair away from my face, and dropped her voice to barely above a whisper. “Go change. When you’re ready to face the day, I’ll make you something to eat and we can get on with it.”
“I can make Alice food,” Caleb grumbled.
Elena’s mouth quirked. “I’m aware you’re capable, but I’m taking charge.”
She shooed me back to the bedroom. As soon as I closed the door, I ripped the scrubs off and kicked them into a corner.
They’d served their purpose. I wanted nothing more to do with them.
Like paper carried history and stories, memories and beauty, those scrubs were more than fabric.
They were a reminder of pain, boredom, feeling trapped and unseen.
Recovery from procedures I didn’t choose, looming faces and roaming hands.
The clothes Elena had brought were cloudlike. Lounge pants, a tank with a built-in bra, and a hoodie. Softer and finer than anything I’d ever bought myself, and they smelled like lavender caught in a breeze.
She’d included a toothbrush, lotion, and a hairbrush. By the time I emerged again, I felt almost human. Still groggy and achy, but much better.
Elena had made us sandwiches. She must have brought her own ingredients because I didn’t imagine Caleb would buy croissants for himself. I ate my first sandwich so quickly, Elena made me another without a word. I went slower but downed it all.
Caleb’s chuckle snapped my gaze from my plate to him. His eyes were on me, light dancing behind his gaze.
“You know, when I gave you that box full of pastries from Sugar Rush, I was thinking there was no way you’d be able to eat it all.” He chuckled again. “I’ve been proven otherwise.”
Elena reached across the table and swatted his hand. “You know better than to comment on someone’s appetite, Cay.”
My cheeks heated as he grinned at me. “I’m glad you’re eating,” he said. “Makes me happy to see it.”
I wiped my mouth with my napkin. “I didn’t eat all the sweets you gave me.” Then I rushed out, “Not in one sitting.”
His laugh was a resounding boom. I was fascinated by the way he tipped his head back, sending his good humor toward the sky like a spotlight, making everything above him brighter.
“Not in one sitting, huh?” His smile reached the corners of his eyes and burst outward in deep crinkles.
“At least two.” My smile was a bit wobbly, but it wasn’t forced. It was real.
He held both hands up in surrender. “I’m not one to judge. I know what my sister’s baking does to people—me included.”
Elena looked back and forth between us, curious, but refrained from asking what circumstance had led to Caleb giving me pastries. For that, I was grateful. In fact, I was grateful for everything this woman had done for me.
“Thank you for lunch,” I said to her. “I didn’t know I was as hungry as I turned out to be.”
“It was my pleasure.” She swiveled in her chair to face me. “I hope I’m not intruding too much. I saw the police and came over to check out what was going on.”
I read between the lines. Caleb had told her what had happened to me. I didn’t mind her knowing, and not only because I trusted her. After what I’d put him through today, Caleb might need someone to lean on too. I was glad he had his mom.
I shook my head, swallowing the lump in my throat. “No, you’re not intruding at all.”
Needing to move, do something other than feel like I might cry, I took my plate to the sink and washed it.
It wasn’t easy with one good hand, but I managed.
Then I washed an empty mug and two forks.
When I ran out of dishes, I looked around for something else to do, finding the kitchen sparkling clean.
Elena came to stand beside me. She put her hand on my shoulder and leaned close. “Can I give you a hug, darling?”
I turned my head, meeting her bright, concerned eyes, and all I could do was nod. Slowly, careful not to spook me, she brought me into her arms. I couldn’t remember the last time anyone had hugged me. Years, for certain. I’d learned to do without.
Elena wrapped me up almost too tight. Her arms were long and willowy but stronger than they looked. She cupped the back of my head and pressed it against her shoulder, the other hand stroking the length of my back. It was so nice, so very, very lovely, I had to stop myself from melting against her.
She placed her mouth next to my ear. “I know, Alice. It happened to me too. It was a long time ago, and it’s faded, but it left its mark.
” I held my breath as she went on, whispering her secrets.
“The shame is his. Never, ever yours. It was hard for me not to take it on. I had a lot of therapy and the love of a few special people to get me right. Even now, forty years later, I still have an inkling of it.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, hating this for her more than I’d ever hated anything in my life. “I’m so sorry.”
“I know. I know, darling. I’m so sorry you have become part of this club. I need you to know, to listen to me when I tell you, none of this is your fault. No choices or mistakes you think you made led you to deserve what happened to you.”
I shook my head against her shoulder. “He didn’t—I mean, he was stopped before he…” My tongue was too thick. I couldn’t say the word.
“I know. I’m so very glad someone stepped in before he could.”
My fingers curled into the fine, feathery fabric of her shirt. “He would have. He almost—”
“But he didn’t. He didn’t, Alice.” Her fingers moved through my hair in slow, gentle slides.
So soothing, I could have fallen asleep standing up.
But it was her firm, gentle words that slowed my heart and unknotted my gut.
“You can’t take this on, darling. You would never blame another woman for a man hurting her, would you? ”
“Never,” I whispered.
“Then give yourself that same grace.”
“Okay. I’ll try.”
“Good.” She cupped the back of my head again. “Lean on Cay. He can take it.”
That was harder to agree to. “He doesn’t want—”
She shifted back to meet my gaze. “He does. My son doesn’t do anything he doesn’t want to do. He’s stubborn like that. He gets it from his mom.”
I let out a wet laugh. “I can try.”
“That’s all you can do.”
She held me for as long as I needed. Letting go was difficult, but I forced myself to pull back, and she squeezed my shoulders, smiling gently.
“You’re going to be okay,” she said. “Promise.”
“Thank you. For everything.” I yawned. “I might need another nap.”
That made her laugh. “That sounds like a good idea. You need to rest so you can heal.”
I turned to head toward the guest room, stopping short when I spotted Caleb in the doorway, his brow dipped low, his eyes pinned on me. A deep frown tugged at the corners of his mouth, and I imagined he’d been standing there a while. Maybe the whole time.
“I’m going to take another nap.”
“Rest easy,” he uttered, thick and raspy. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”
When I passed him, I looked up into his haunted eyes, and my stomach clenched. “Thank you for everything.”
The lines on the side of his mouth were carved granite. “Don’t need your thanks. Just need you safe and well.”
“I am.” I allowed myself one fleeting graze along his arm, and I didn't say it—he didn’t want to hear it—but in my head, I added, “Thanks to you.”