22. Chapter 22 #2
I shake my head, trying to clear it. “I don’t understand. Why would you move here? What about your parents? They must be losing their minds.”
“Mom is,” he admits with a slight grimace.
“Dad actually understands, I think. He and I had a long talk before I left. He apologized for a lot of things.” Adam runs a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture I remember all too well.
“I owe you more apologies than I could ever say, Caitlin. About my mother, about Millie, about all of it. After you left, I finally stood up to them. I made it clear that I would never be with Millie, that the way they treated you was wrong, and that I wasn’t going to tolerate it anymore. ”
“How brave of you,” I say, unable to keep the sarcasm from my voice. “Only about a year too late.”
He winces but nods. “I deserve that. I deserve worse, honestly. But I want you to know that I’ve cut them both out of my life — Mom and Millie.
I told Mom I didn’t want to see her again for a long time, if ever.
And as for Millie,” he pauses and shakes his head.
“I never want to see her again. Under any circumstances. I’ve blocked them both on everything. ”
Something twists in my chest, painful and sweet at once. I push it away. “So what, you just moved here? Without even asking if I wanted you here?”
“I didn’t come here expecting anything from you,” he says, his eyes never leaving mine.
“I came because I couldn’t stay there anymore.
Because everything there reminded me of how I failed you, of what I lost, of the mistakes I made.
And because…” He hesitates. “Because I needed to tell you that losing you is the greatest regret of my life. Not just because I love you, but because I let you down. When I needed to be your partner, your protector, I was a coward.”
The raw honesty in his voice makes it hard to hold on to my anger, but I cling to it anyway. Anger is safer than the alternative, the hope that’s trying to bloom in my chest.
“So what, you found your balls and suddenly everything’s supposed to be okay?
” I demand, crossing my arms over my chest. “I’m supposed to forget everything that happened?
Forget how humiliated I felt at every family dinner?
How alone I was at every party? I worked for days to throw that Halloween party for you and your friends, and you all ignored me.
And then you left me on Thanksgiving to go on a cruise with Millie?
You think moving to my town fixes any of that? ”
“No,” he says simply. “I don’t expect it to fix anything.
I don’t expect you to forgive me or to forget.
What I did is something I can’t make up for.
I can’t go back and erase the last year, no matter how much I wish I could.
All I’m hoping for is that maybe someday you might let me be your friend again.
And even though I can’t make up for what I did, I’m never going to stop trying. ”
I stare at him, searching for any sign that this is just another manipulation, another empty promise. But his eyes are clear and steady, holding mine without flinching.
“I need to go inside,” I say finally, because I don’t know what else to say. Because if I stay out here with him any longer, I might do something stupid like cry. Or worse, forgive him.
He nods, stepping aside to clear my path to the door. “I understand. I’ll go. But, Caitlin…” He pauses, waiting until I look at him again. “I meant what I said. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be around if you ever want to talk.”
“Don’t hold your breath,” I mutter, fumbling with my keys.
Adam backs away, hands raised in surrender. “Fair enough. See you around, Caitlin.”
I watch him walk to his truck and drive away. Only when he’s completely out of sight do I let myself into the townhouse, sagging against the closed door.
Rachel must be at her boyfriend’s place. The empty house is a relief. I need space to think, to process what just happened. Adam, here in Cedar City. Adam, apparently standing up to his mother and Millie. Adam, still in love with me.
Part of me wants to believe him. Part of me wants to run after him and tell him I’ve missed him too, that I still love him, that maybe we could try again. But the wiser part of me, the part that remembers all too well the hurt and humiliation, knows better. Words are easy. Actions take time.
On impulse, I pull out my phone and find Daniel’s number in my messages. With fingers that shake only slightly, I type: “I think I’d like to get coffee after all. How about Saturday?” I hit send before I can change my mind.
The reply comes almost immediately: “Saturday works. 10am at Perks? Looking forward to it.”
I stare at the message, feeling a strange mix of emotions: anticipation, guilt, defiance. I don’t owe Adam anything. He broke my heart. He left me when I needed him most. That he’s here now, that he claims to have changed, doesn’t erase that.
I slip my phone back into my pocket and head for the shower, determined to wash away the day’s tears and confusion. Adam Kelley might have moved to Cedar City, but that doesn’t mean he gets to move back into my heart. I’ve worked too hard to put myself back together to risk breaking again.
Still, as I stand under the hot spray, I can’t help but wonder what might have been if he had found his courage sooner. And what might still be, if he really has changed.