26. Chapter 26 #2
I debate with myself for a moment. She’s made it clear that she prefers me at arm’s length. Our interactions over the past month have been strictly professional. But seeing her like this, I can’t just walk away.
“Hey,” I say, approaching slowly, giving her plenty of time to see me coming. “Everything okay?”
She startles slightly, then straightens, composing her features. “Fine.” Then, after a pause: “Just thinking.”
“Must be some pretty heavy thoughts.” I stop a respectful distance away, hands in my pockets.
She looks at me, really looks at me, for what feels like the first time in ages. Her eyes are tired, shadows beneath them I hadn’t noticed in the brighter light inside. “Yeah, you could say that.”
“Want to talk about it? Sometimes it helps.” I hesitate, then add, “No pressure. I can also just go.”
She sighs, and for a moment I think she’s going to send me away. Then she shrugs. “It wouldn’t hurt, I guess.”
“I think we’re going to have to sell Grandma’s house,” she says finally, the words coming out in a rush.
“We met with another contractor yesterday. He thinks it’s a complete gut job.
” She runs a hand through her hair, loosening her ponytail.
“Uncle Peter’s trying to find a way to make it happen, looking into loans, but I can’t ask him to sink money into it when the restaurant is struggling. ”
I digest this, remembering how she’d talked about her grandmother’s house back in Iowa. How it represented everything good about her childhood. “That’s a tough decision to have to make.”
“It shouldn’t be,” she says, frustration edging her voice. “It’s just a house, right? Wood and nails and wiring. But…”
“But it’s more than that,” I finish for her. “It’s memories. It’s part of who you are.”
She glances at me, surprised. “Yeah.”
A silence falls between us, not entirely uncomfortable. In it, I weigh my next words carefully. I don’t want her to think I’m overstepping, but God; I want to help.
“I could take a look at it,” I finally offer.
“The house, I mean. And the reports. I built houses in Colorado, remember? It doesn’t hurt to get another opinion.
And well…” I pause, choosing my words carefully, “Maybe I’d be able to do some of the work myself.
No pressure or expectations. I just want to help. ”
Her eyebrows lift slightly. “You’d be willing to do that? Even though we aren’t together anymore?”
“Caitlin,” I meet her gaze steadily. “I’d rebuild that entire house — foundation, frame, and roof, if you asked it of me.”
She stares at me for a long moment, and something flickers across her face; doubt, maybe, or confusion.
“What is your game, Adam?” The question comes abruptly, catching me off guard.
“Why are you acting like this? Why are you here? Why would you treat me like you did in Iowa and then follow me here and say…that?”
I take a deep breath. This is the conversation I’ve both dreaded and longed for.
“I don’t have a game,” I say quietly. “I’m here because this is where you are, and I love you.
You’ve been it for me since I sat at your table at that diner in Colorado.
But I failed to treasure you the way I should have, and I lost you.
I’ll regret that for the rest of my life. ”
“So you’re just going to hang around here waiting tables and hoping I’ll forgive you for the rest of your life?” There’s skepticism in her voice, but also genuine curiosity.
“If that’s what it takes,” I turn to face her fully now. “I know I hurt you. I know I failed you in every possible way. The way I let my family treat you, the way I never stood up for you, the Halloween party, the cruise…” I swallow hard. “I’ll regret it for the rest of my life. All of it.”
She’s watching me intently, her expression guarded but not cold. It’s more than she’s given me in a month.
“I want to be a better man, Caitlin. For you, yes, but also for myself. Because the person I was in Iowa? That wasn’t me.
Or it was the worst version of me, letting fear and guilt and everyone else’s expectations make my choices.
” I shake my head. “I don’t expect you to forgive me.
I don’t even expect you to believe me right now.
But I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere, and if you ever want to talk about what happened, all the ways I failed you and why, I’m ready. Whenever you are.”
Her eyes search mine, and I force myself to hold her gaze, to let her see everything: the regret, the determination, the love I still feel despite everything.
“And in the meantime?” She asks, her voice softer now.
“In the meantime, I’ll be here. In whatever way you’ll let me. If that’s just as a server at your family’s restaurant, so be it. If it’s as someone who can help you figure out what to do about your grandmother’s house, I’m happy to do that too.”
She’s quiet for a long moment, considering. Then she straightens, pushing away from the car. “I’ll think about it. About the house, I mean.” She pulls her keys from her pocket. “I’ll let you know.”
I feel something lift inside me. This is the first real conversation we’ve had, the first time she’s looked at me without that wall of ice between us. I step back, giving her space to open her car door.
“Thank you,” she says, surprising me again. “For the offer.”
“Anytime,” I reply, meaning it with every fiber of my being. “Really.”
She nods once, then slides into her car. I watch as she starts the engine, backs out, and drives away, her taillights disappearing down the dark road.
I stand there for a moment longer, a strange mix of hope and sadness washing over me. It’s a beginning, maybe. A tiny crack in the wall between us.
As I walk to my truck, I realize I’m truly smiling for the first time all day.
I’m not delusional enough to think she’s going to take me back, but for the first time since I arrived in Cedar City, I feel like I might actually have a chance to show her who I really am.
Who I want to be. Who I should have been all along.
And for now, it’s enough.