Chapter Twenty-Four
Caleb
Kayden couldn’t stop laughing when we said our goodbyes to Emily with the promise of coming back soon and spending an entire weekend in Boston.
I kept hugging her, thanking her for taking care of my man, and it took ages before we left the apartment.
It felt good to hear Kayden laugh like that again, uninhibited and happy.
Fuck, when I first saw him in the kitchen, it was like someone had kick-started my heart again.
I never again want to feel the way I felt for the past twenty-four hours without Kayden.
I don’t think I’ve felt that lost before, like I was disconnected from myself and the world.
I felt it in him, too, once he was back in my arms. I am his safe place, his home, just as much as he is mine.
I’ve never felt relief like that before, like someone told me the apocalypse had been called off.
I’ve never experienced that level of possessiveness either.
When I asked him to promise that we were going to be together.
Even if it was clear from the way he was holding me, clinging to me, kissing me, I still needed him to say it, like I wouldn’t be able to rest until he did.
It’s strange, and I can’t explain it because I’m not the possessive type, at least I didn’t think so.
I haven’t really fought for anything before, but Kayden is different.
He gives me purpose. He makes me want to try harder and be better.
He makes me fucking greedy too. I want it all. I want everything with him.
Mine, my heart echoes again and again. I can’t believe how close I came to losing him.
I’ll be forever grateful to Sal and Vivian that they saw past their own hurt and confusion and recognized how much Kayden means to me.
I only hope that in time, Sal and I can get back to where we were.
Maybe if he sees how genuine my feelings are, if he witnesses the love between Kayden and me, Sal will understand it was never a choice to fall in love with Kayden, and that walking away from him, from a love like that, isn’t possible.
When we reach town, it feels like the last remnants of that tightness in my chest ease away.
We’re home, and Kayden is with me. The idea of returning without him is something I don’t even want to contemplate, and luckily, I won’t have to.
We drive past the garden center and the pond next to the city hall, where I used to take him to feed the ducks after school.
I continue down Main Street, past Kayden’s old school, which is also my old school, and then past the church where Sal and Vivian were married, where I haven’t been since my parents’ funeral.
A dull ache emerges in my chest, a latent feeling of loss pushing to the surface.
I wish they could’ve met Kayden. Well, not met him-met him, because they knew and loved him since the day he was born.
No, I wish they could’ve met him as my boyfriend, as the man I love, and whom I want to spend the rest of my life with. I know they would’ve been happy for us.
We continue past the park. It’s almost empty where it’s usually filled with kids playing ball, joggers, and dog walkers.
I realize how late it is; the sun dipping past the treeline, and the sky bathed in reds, pinks, and oranges.
I pull in for a second and just watch Kayden, his breathing slow and calm.
I want to touch him, but I don’t want to wake him.
While his eyelids are still red and puffy from crying, he looks serene.
I vow that if it’s up to me, Kayden will only ever cry happy tears from now on.
I know I can’t shelter him from the world, and I don’t have to.
Kayden is so strong, one of the strongest people I know, but I still want to protect him.
My gaze drifts to the small playground where I used to take Kayden.
He was my little sidekick back then. I rub my chest. It still hurts a little that Sal asked me if I was attracted to Kayden before he was an adult.
I understand how the mind works, the dark places it can go to sometimes, but I only ever saw Kayden as a kid, as my best friend’s kid, when he lived at home.
I remember one particular day when Kayden was maybe around twelve.
His world was slowly expanding, and he’d started asking me all sorts of questions about life.
We were lying under the huge chestnut tree next to the swings, panting after chasing each other around the park, gazing up at the bright green crown, the flowers in full bloom.
Kayden was giggling over something I’d said, the sound lofty and happy as it grew from his belly, resonating through his body.
It was a few years before he told his parents he was a boy, but he’d already started wearing baggier clothes.
There was a small pause in our conversation, and Kayden looked at me in a way that left me feeling all breathless and vulnerable.
‘How come you don’t have anyone, Caleb?’ His words hit me like bullets, penetrating my skin, reaching all the way inside my heart. I was stunned at first, both at his bluntness and his perception.
I tried to play it cool and laugh it off, bopping his nose. ‘I have you, kid.’
‘That’s not what I mean. I mean, like Mom and Dad have each other. Why don’t you have a wife? Or a husband?’
‘I don’t know. I guess I’m just waiting for…’ I had no idea what to tell him. His words had left me dumbfounded, not because I was offended, but because they were true.
‘The right one?’ He looked at me wide-eyed and innocent. I didn’t know what to say, so I just mumbled something along the lines of ‘yeah, something like that…’
‘But what if you already met them and you didn’t know?
That they were right for you, I mean.’ I think I must’ve redirected his attention after that, maybe by tickling him, but now his words linger.
Kayden is right for me. He is the one. As it turns out, it wasn’t a matter of the right person coming along; it was just a matter of the right time. This is the right time for him and me.
It’s dark when I park Marilyn in my driveway.
I left the porch light on, and it paints the front of my small bungalow in a soft glow, with a few moths floating around the lamp restlessly.
A couple of things hit me out of nowhere as I take in the house I’ve lived in for nearly fifteen years.
For one, it’s much too big for just one person.
It always was. The couple who sold it to me had three kids.
All my neighbors have kids, and as obnoxious as most of them are, I can’t deny this is a family neighborhood and that the houses were built for middle-class families back in the 1950s when post-war optimism made people have kids, as in a lot of kids.
It was a good deal, though, so I bought it, thinking I could always sell it again if I changed my mind.
Over the years, the house grew on me, and now I can’t imagine ever living anywhere else.
Second, a porch is not really a porch without one of those two-person porch swings.
It’s not. Most of my neighbors have one.
I never spend any time out on my front porch, which is a shame, really, because it’s a great porch.
Sal and I renovated it ourselves using mahogany hardwood because it’ll stand the wear and tear of the sometimes-extreme coastal weather.
And it has withstood the test of time. It’s a good floor, a good porch, a good house.
I try to imagine the swing on the deck. I don’t want one of those fancy metal ones, no, I want an old-school wooden one with striped cushions and that corny overhang that matches the cushions.
Maybe one of those quilted comfy blankets Kayden can wrap himself in when the evening grows chilly.
I’ll need a table too because I’ll probably want to have a beer or two after a long day at work, and maybe Kayden will want a glass of Chardonnay.
Kayden stirs next to me, then blinks his eyes open. He yawns as he stretches, his hands brushing against Marilyn’s roof. As soon as he sees me hovering next to him, in a non-creepy way, obviously, his face transforms, his lips widening into a sleepy smile.
“Hey,” he drawls, rubbing his eyes. “I fell asleep.”
I chuckle. “You did.” I reach out and tuck a stray curl behind his ear, my fingers lingering around his earlobe, tugging at it slightly, playing with his silver stud.
Kayden leans into my touch, digging his teeth into his bottom lip.
He’s so beautiful, sitting there in my car, the porch light casting a soft glow around him.
“What?” he laughs.
The words are out there before I can second-guess myself. Not that I need to. There’s no doubt in my heart. “I think you should move in with me.”
His eyes widen in an almost comical way, like in one of those cartoons, and his mouth drops open. “What?” There’s a slight tremble to his voice, the what hanging between us.
I release his earlobe and slide my hand down his jaw, cradling his chin. “Move in with me.”
“Oh, so you did say that?”
“I did.” I swipe my thumb back and forth against Kayden’s chin, feeling his soft scruff against the pad of my finger.
“But I just moved into my apartment.”
“I know, but… You see, I realized something while you were still asleep.”
“What?” His voice comes out all breathy.
“I realized a couple of things, actually.” I try to keep my voice steady, but it’s fucking hard when you are about to lay it all out there, when you are about to completely bare yourself to another person. “But to sum it up, I want the whole shebang.”
Kayden frowns at me. “The whole… shebang?”
“Yes. All of it.”
“Okay…” It’s almost like I can hear the wheels inside his head turning. I realize then that the word shebang is probably a little too abstract. One person’s idea of a shebang might not be another person’s idea.