5. Chapter 5
Caitlin
I lie belly down on our bed. Dinner at Adam’s parents’ is long over, but Adam isn’t home yet. Paula asked Adam to drop something off at Rhonda and Millie’s place for her. He assured me it would only take a minute. That was over two hours ago.
I stare at the picture of Adam and me on the nightstand. It’s one of my favorites, taken on a hike at Garden of the Gods in Colorado. Our life together used to be full of adventures, both big and small.
I’d met Adam after several years of drifting around the country, trying to find my place.
The grandmother who’d raised me had died soon after I graduated high school.
My aunt and uncle insisted I’d always have a home with them, but I’d been afraid of being a burden and left soon after my grandmother’s funeral.
Before Adam, I’d felt unmoored and anchorless. And then suddenly, it was like I’d had a home again. Wherever he was, that’s where I belonged.
Life before Iowa had been wonderful. We’d explored the Colorado wilderness every chance we had, hiking, camping, kayaking. It had been under a sky full of stars in Mueller State Park that Adam had slipped his grandmother’s ring onto my finger and asked me to marry him.
I’ve never felt about anyone the way I feel about you, Caitlin. I want to spend every day of the rest of my life with you. Please marry me?
Not long after that, Adam’s father had suffered a minor heart attack. Adam had been persuaded to come back to Iowa to take over Kelley Property Managment so his father could retire. And here we were. The adventures had stopped. And increasingly, Adam was no longer feeling like home.
Suddenly desperate to see a friendly face, I pull my tablet out of my nightstand drawer and tap the screen a few times.
A second later and my cousin Rachel’s face appears, her blonde hair framing her face, the sun setting behind her through a window draped with what looks like a tie-dyed sheet.
Her apartment is exactly what you’d expect from Rachel — bright and cluttered with plants everywhere, and crystals catching light on every surface.
Looking at her familiar smile makes my throat tighten unexpectedly.
“Caitlin!!” Rachel beams, leaning closer to her camera. “God, I miss your freckled face. Hey! Come see what I did to my kitchen!”
There’s a blur of movement, and then she’s aiming the screen so I can see into her small galley kitchen. The walls and cabinets have all been painted bright shades of teal and coral.
Rachel’s face fills the screen again. “Isn’t it perfect! Mom just about had a heart attack when she saw it though.”
I laugh, imagining my Aunt Charlene’s reaction. She thinks beige is an exciting and vibrant shade.
“So how’s life in the corn kingdom?” Rachel plops down on her couch and folds her legs up under her.
I force a smile. “It’s…you know. Fine.”
She raises a brow. “Caitlin…not saying I don’t believe you, but that was the least convincing ‘fine’ I’ve ever heard. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, exactly,” I say, fiddling with a loose thread on my sleeve. “Just adjusting still. It’s different here.”
“Different how? Adam’s-mom-still-hates-you kind of different or where-the hell-are-the-beaches kind of different?”
“Both,” I admit. “Plus, my-fiancé-is-never-around kind of different.”
Rachel leans closer to the screen with a concerned frown. “Spill. All of it.”
And so I do. The words tumble out of me, about the funeral, about Millie’s constant need for Adam, about Paula’s thinly veiled disdain, about the weeks of loneliness. As I talk, my vision blurs with unexpected tears.
“I feel like I’m disappearing,” I say, wiping my cheek with the back of my hand. “Like I’m fading a little more every day. We barely talk. He’s always at Millie’s house, or she’s here, or he’s taking her somewhere. And when I try to say anything, I’m the bad guy for not being understanding enough.”
“Has he actually said that?”
“Not in those words, but…” I trail off, remembering his face when I questioned him about not being invited to his parents’ house after the funeral. “It’s implied. Everyone here thinks she walks on water. She had cancer as a kid, you know? And now, her dad died. So she’s untouchable.”
Rachel lets out a very inelegant snort. “Cancer doesn’t give you a free pass to steal someone’s fiancé.”
“She’s not…he’s not…” I stop, unable to finish the denial convincingly.
“Caitlin,” Rachel says in that ‘I’m about to tell you how it is’ voice of hers. “I love you. And you are the most forgiving, understanding person on the planet. And I love that about you. But you need to stop being so damn accommodating that you let people walk all over you.”
“I’m not—”
“You are. You always have been. Remember in high school when you let that girl — what was her name? The one with the bangs?”
“Madison,” I supply automatically.
“Yeah, her. She didn’t do a bit of work on the project you were assigned to do together, and you didn’t say a thing because she claimed her dog had died that week.”
I laugh despite myself. “That was different.”
“Was it? You’re doing the same thing now. Being so understanding of everyone else’s needs you ignore your own.”
The truth of her words hits me. “So what am I supposed to do? Give him an ultimatum? Her or me?”
What if he picks her?
Rachel shakes her head. “No, but you can tell him how you feel without apologizing for feeling it. You can set boundaries without being the bad guy.”
“Like what?”
“Like ‘we need to spend time together that’s just us.’ Or ‘I need you to come home by a certain time.’ Or even just ‘I need you to see me, really see me, because I’m drowning here.’”
I swallow hard, feeling the truth of it. I am drowning. Every day a little more water fills my lungs, and I’ve been so busy trying to stay afloat without making waves I haven’t even called for help.
“You deserve to be seen, Caitlin,” Rachel says softly. “You deserve to be chosen, every day.”
My throat aches, and I can’t bring myself to respond.
Rachel leans forward and starts rummaging through the things on the coffee table in front of her. “I’m going to send you some crystals. Bloodstone for courage and resilience. Tiger’s Eye for strength. Black tourmaline protects against negative energy. Moonstone. Maybe a few others.“
“Rachel, you know I don’t believe in that stuff.” But the thought touches me deeply, and I can’t help but smile.
She shrugs. “I know, but it can’t hurt. And hey, if they don’t help you feel better, you could just throw them at Millie’s stupid fiancé stealing face.”
I can’t help but laugh at this. I’m still laughing when I hear the door open and Adam’s voice in the living room. “Caitlin? You home?”
“Oh, he’s home!” I whisper to Rachel.
“Perfect timing,” Rachel says. “Remember: no apologizing for how you feel. I forbid it. I love you. Call me after.”
She ends the call just as Adam walks into the bedroom.
I sit up and take a deep breath. I need to get this out before my courage deserts me. “Where have you been, Adam?”
He blinks, surprised by the hint of sharpness in my voice. “You know Mom asked me to drop some stuff off for Millie and Rhonda.”
“You said it would take a few minutes. You’ve been gone for over two hours.”
Adam shrugs. “Rhonda needed some help with a loose banister and a few other things. It’s not a big deal.”
“It is a big deal! We never just have an evening to ourselves anymore.”
“Okay, well, I’m home now. What do you want to do?”
“Adam,” I pause, searching for the right words. “I don’t know who I am to you anymore.” My voice comes out steadier than I expected. “I’ve been trying so hard to be understanding about what Millie’s going through that I’ve let myself become invisible.”
“You’re not invisible, Caitlin.”
“Really? When was the last time we spent an entire day together? When was the last time you asked me about my day? When was the last time we went on a date?”
He opens his mouth, then closes it again, the answer clearly escaping him.
“We’ve spent one afternoon together in three months. I know Millie needs support,” I continue, emboldened by his silence. “Butt I need to matter too. I need to be a priority in your life, not an afterthought.”
Adam’s shoulders slump. “I never meant to make you feel that way.”
“I know. But you did.”
He’s quiet for a long moment, looking at me like he’s seeing me for the first time in months. Maybe he is.
“I’m sorry,” he finally says, sounding genuinely regretful. “I’ve been wrapped up in helping Millie and her mom. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I’ve been unfair to you.”
I nod, not trusting myself to speak.
“Let me make it up to you,” he says, taking a step toward me. “Let’s plan on having a regular date night. Every week. Just us. No interruptions.”
“Really?” I hate the hopeful tremor in my voice.
“Really.” He reaches for my hand, and I let him take it. “I’ll do all the planning. You won’t have to do anything except show up.”
I want to believe him. I want it so badly that it aches. But there’s a new wariness in me that wasn’t there before.
“I’d like that,” I say cautiously.
He pulls me into a hug, and I let myself melt into it, into the familiar smell of him, the solidity of his chest against my cheek. For a moment, it feels like it used to, before Iowa, before Millie, before I started disappearing.
“I miss you,” I whisper into his shirt.
His arms tighten around me. “I’m right here.”
But as I close my eyes, I can’t help but wonder how long his promises will last. A date night sounds wonderful, but what about the day after that? And the day after that?
Rachel’s voice echoes in my head: You deserve to be chosen, every day.
I just wish I could be sure that Adam would keep choosing me.