Chapter Twenty-Two
Caleb
Earlier the same day
Icheck my phone obsessively, but my texts to Kayden remain delivered but not read.
I can’t fucking believe Sal. He acted as if I were a damn predator or something.
I know it must’ve come as a shock to him, walking in on Kayden fresh out of the shower, calling me babe, but we’re both adults, and if Sal thinks I would ever take advantage of Kayden, he’s fucking delusional.
I park Marilyn in my usual spot in front of the shipyard, but I’m reluctant to go inside.
I rest my forehead against the steering wheel, trying to get my pulse down and at least some of my anger to evaporate.
I don’t know if Kayden went in today, but Sal never misses a day at work, so I’m bound to run into him.
I need to make sure that I’m somewhat under control when I face him.
I enter through the shipyard, saying my good mornings to everyone as usual.
The place is buzzing, the sound of the robotic sanding machine we introduced last year filling the large space.
Lance, our foreman, fills me in like he usually does, but I find myself zoning in and out of the conversation.
We’re one man short this morning since Carl called in sick with something, Lance explains.
He assures me they’ll manage just fine. I pat his shoulder, then head inside the main office building.
Gwen’s on the phone, talking into her headset while tapping eagerly on her keyboard.
She looks up briefly and throws me a smile as I pass her.
I force myself to smile back, then head straight to Kayden’s office.
The door is closed, and the lights are off.
My chest tightens, the worry back in full force.
I check my phone again, but there’s nothing.
No texts, no calls, nothing. Well, I might as well face the music, grab the bull by its horns, or whatever.
I run upstairs, passing my office, making a beeline for Sal’s.
The door is closed. I knock, only greeted by silence.
My stomach sinks. I wasn’t exactly looking forward to seeing Sal this morning after yesterday’s shitshow, but I woke up determined to sort this mess out before it escalates any further.
I know Sal told me, well, rather yelled at me yesterday, that we are done unless I break it off with Kayden, but those were words spoken in shock and anger.
I hope Vivian has been able to talk some sense into Sal.
I knock again, but there’s not a single sound from inside his office.
I open the door carefully and peek inside, only to find it dark and empty.
Fuck. I close the door, then brush my hands along my face.
Less than twenty-four hours ago, my life was a dream.
I was kissing a sweaty, smiling Kayden in my kitchen.
Shit, I was planning on… I scream silently into my hands.
How the hell did everything get so fucked up in a matter of minutes?
I jog down the stairs, and Gwen greets me with a cheery, “Hey there, sunshine,” now that she’s done talking on the phone.
“Hey,” I pant, leaning against the reception desk as I try to catch my breath and keep my voice neutral. “Sal not in yet?”
“No, he’s uhm…” Gwen schools her face, her voice tinged with disbelief. “He’s working from home?”
“From home?”
“Yes, that’s what he said. Maybe something’s going around.”
I eye Gwen, my heart pounding in my chest. “What do you mean?”
“Well, with Carl being under the weather and Kayden calling in sick, too.”
“Kayden called in sick?”
Gwen’s eyes soften, her expression filled with empathy. “Yes. Well, I mean, Vivian did. Just now.” Gwen points at her headset. “Must be some virus or something.”
“Or something,” I mumble.
“You feeling okay there, hon? You’re not looking too peachy yourself.”
“Gee, thanks, Gwen,” I offer her a half-assed smile.
Gwen winks at me. “Awww, will you get over yourself? Even looking like something the cat tried to drag in, then left for the rats, you take an old woman’s breath away.”
“You’re not old, Gwen.” I don’t disagree with her on the cat part because she’s probably right. I slept for shit, and today I’m really feeling all of my forty years and then some.
“You’re a sweetheart, but also a liar, Caleb Morgan. Why don’t you take a day off, too? We’ve got everything covered here. We can manage a day without the suits,” she chuckles.
“I’m not a suit.” I look down at myself; my usual gray office pants and white shirt the only things about me that don’t look disheveled.
“Potato-potahto,” Gwen sing-songs, then gestures at me with her hand in a shooing motion. “Get outta here, boss. I’ll give you a call in case we need you.” She lifts an eyebrow at me when I’m about to protest. “Which we won’t!”
I give in and salute her, knocking my heels together. “Yes, ma’am!”
“Don’t you ma’am me, young man.” She laughs, about to say something else, when the phone rings again. She gives me a quick wave, then greets the caller in her usual fashion, “Barnacle Cove Boatworks, Gwen speaking, how may I help you?”
I walk backward toward the exit. A weird feeling comes over me, a strange foreboding.
Neither Sal nor Kayden came in today. What if Sal has managed to convince Kayden to break it off with me?
What if he doesn’t want to see me? The thought alone makes my lungs struggle for air.
I can’t let that happen. I love him. He is mine.
Fuck, I’ve never planned a single thing in my life, but now, it feels like I have no future if Kayden isn’t in it.
I call him again, but he doesn’t pick up. My fingers fly across the screen as I type out a message.
Baby, please pick up
I just came into work, and you’re not here. Neither is your dad. I’m coming over
I get in the car and drive through town over to Kayden’s place.
Twice, I get so caught up in my thoughts that I don’t realize the lights have turned green until other drivers honk at me impatiently.
When I reach the apartment building, I park Marilyn in my usual spot.
I can’t see the company truck Kayden uses, which unsettles me a bit.
Then again, he could’ve parked it somewhere else.
Or he’s at… Fuck, if he’s at Sal’s place…
yeah, I’ll cross that bridge when I get there.
I press the intercom, but no one answers, and at this point, I’m close to losing my shit.
I try calling Kayden again, but it goes straight to voicemail.
I wait around, pressing the intercom again at the odd chance he was still asleep the first time or maybe in the shower.
There’s still no answer, and just when I’m about to leave, the door to the apartment building opens, and a young woman with a baby in a stroller walks out.
I hold the door open for her, and she throws me a grateful thank you, then disappears down the street.
I slip inside and take the stairs two at a time, my lungs screaming at me, but now I can’t get the image out of my head that Kayden might have slipped on the wet tiles on his way out of the shower.
I knock on the door to Kayden’s apartment, then lean my head against the surface, trying to make out something from the inside that tells me he’s there.
Everything is quiet, except for the sound of my rushed breathing.
I knock again, this time pounding against the door, the sound echoing off the walls.
“Kayden? Baby, please open!” I call through the door, tears pressing behind my eyelids.
I don’t cry. I never fucking cry, but now I feel like sinking to the floor and just howling.
It’s a physical pain unlike any other to not know where he is and if he’s okay.
I pull my phone from my pocket and beckon the screen to light up with a message from him, or a call, but nothing happens.
I tap the screen, then type out yet another message, my fingers shaking.
Kayden, please. Just let me know you’re okay
If you’re home, then open the door, baby
I wait for a few moments, but it’s like I’m sending my messages out into a bottomless abyss. I type again as determination rises in my chest.
Okay, I’m heading over to your parents’ now
“Caleb.” Vivian opens the door for me, her expression indecipherable as she steps aside and lets me in.
“Where is he? Is he here?” I ask, my voice trembling.
She shakes her head, mumbling, “What a mess you boys have made,” then gestures for me to follow her into the living room. Boys. I’m one month older than Vivian.
“You’ve got a visitor,” she tells Sal, who looks like he’s close to strangling the remote. His eyes snap up, annoyance painted across his face, and the moment he sees me, it bleeds into a cold glare.
“What are you doing here?” he snarls, clenching the remote.
“Just tell me where he is, Sal.”
He huffs, then drops the remote on the coffee table, leaning back on the couch, crossing his arms in front of his chest. His eyes bore into mine, his mouth a grim line across his face.
Sal has never looked at me this way before, with such distrust, like I’ve betrayed him.
“I don’t know. And even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you.
” His voice isn’t as angry as it was yesterday when he was yelling at me, but the resentment is evident.
He’s holding back, maybe for Vivian’s sake.
I don’t believe him, though. Kayden would never just take off without telling his parents.
Then again, I never thought he’d just take off without telling me either.
“Sal…” Vivian sighs, sitting down next to him. She nods at the recliner across from where I’m standing. “Take a seat, Caleb. You’re making me nervous.”