Chapter 12 #3
“I’m not sure you want to know the answer.” I hit play on the last episode I was watching, and the faces of Claire and Phil Dunphy fill the screen. “I love this one.”
“Is it the one where they catch their parents doing it?”
I grin at her phrasing. Even after we were married for many years, Chloe was still always so nervous when it came to talking about sex.
“Yep. ‘Caught in the Act.’ An absolute classic.”
She rolls her eyes, but she wiggles down further into the couch, getting comfortable. Out of habit, I reach over and grab her legs, pulling them onto my lap.
“Oh, that feels so good,” she says as I press my thumb into the arch of her left one. “I can’t remember the last time I had a foot rub.” Her eyes fall closed. “I forgot how exhausting games can be. I don’t know how you do it all the time.”
“Because I love it, Clover. Now rest.”
She doesn’t argue, and that’s how we stay—me rubbing her feet, Modern Family playing in the background, and Percy purring away. It’s the perfect night, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
“No, no. Don’t. Please. Stay. Just stay,” I beg, reaching for her.
She shakes her head, backing away until she’s just out of my reach. “I can’t. I have to go.”
“But…why? I don’t understand why. Just tell me.”
“Because—”
A loud roar, almost like a train going far too fast, rushes through my head, and I can’t hear anything else she says, even though I’m desperate to.
“Chloe?” I call out as the distance between us grows. “Chloe!”
But it doesn’t matter how many times I shout her name. She slips farther and farther away, everything behind her falling into shadows and darkness until there’s nothing left at all, and it’s just me staring into the abyss.
“Chloe!” I yell again. “Come back! Please! Clover!”
“Callum!”
My eyes fly open, and Chloe stands over me, her eyes wide and filled with worry. It’s dark, and it takes me a moment to realize where I am and why my wife is hovering over me, why my heart is hammering inside my chest harder than it ever has before, all playoff games included.
“I was dreaming.”
Chloe frowns. “I kind of figured. Are you okay?”
“I…”
But I don’t finish the sentence. I can’t. The words aren’t there, and even if they were, how am I supposed to explain to her that I was dreaming about her leaving, and it’s not the first time?
So, I say nothing. I just reach for her, pulling her down onto my lap. She gasps as she falls against me, but I don’t pay any attention to that. All I care about is holding on to her, so that’s what I do.
I wrap my arms around her, pulling her tighter against me.
At first, she sits there stiffly, likely trying to figure out what the hell is going on, then finally, she relaxes, sagging against me.
I sigh in relief as I bury my face in her neck, inhaling her perfume and coasting my hands over her body.
She’s real. She’s real, and she’s here.
I repeat those words over and over as I work to draw in deep breaths and calm my racing heart.
I’m not sure how long it takes, but the pounding in my ears finally subsides, and I feel like I can breathe without having to think about it.
Chloe must feel the tension in my shoulders release, because she pulls away, and the look she gives me is enough to send me into another panic attack.
She’s scared. Terrified even. Me fucking too.
Her soft hands slide over my cheeks, and I lean in, savoring the heat and the familiarity of them.
She’s real, and she’s here.
“Are you okay?” she asks softly.
I nod, then swallow the lump that’s settled in my throat. “I’m okay.”
“What just happened? That feels like more than just a dream.”
“It felt like more to me too.”
Her lips pull down again. “What were you dreaming about?”
I shake my head, not wanting to tell her. We’ve had such a good night together, and I don’t want to ruin it now.
“Please,” she asks. “Tell me. Don’t shut me out. We’ve—I’ve,” she amends, “done that enough. We need to talk, no matter how badly it hurts.”
I want to point out that just like in my dream, she’s yet to explain exactly what caused her to walk away from me, but I don’t. I’m not sure that’s a conversation we should have tonight. We aren’t ready. Not yet.
But she is right that we need to talk. We used to be so good at it, until…
I run my tongue over my dry lips. “Water?”
She nods, then reaches behind her to the coffee table where we set our drinks before falling asleep. I take the bottle from her hands and down the rest of it in less than five seconds. It’s not enough, but it’ll do for now. I run the back of my hand over my mouth, then meet her worry-filled stare.
“You left me again.”
Everything about her changes in an instant. Her shoulders slump forward, her eyes are no longer filled with concern, and she tries to scramble away. I don’t let her, grabbing her hips and holding her still on my lap, a place she used to spend a lot of time.
“Hey, hey,” I say, pulling her chin my way and forcing her to look at me. “Don’t run. Please.”
It must be just the word she wants to hear, because she stops fighting me and settles back on my lap. That’s when I see them—tears.
“Come on.” I brush away the wet streak running down her cheek. “Don’t cry. You know I’ve always hated it when you cry.”
Her soft laugh is cut off with a sniffle. “I’m sorry. I just…” She exhales shakily. “I’m sorry, Callum. I’m so fucking sorry.”
Shit. The sadness and pain in her words damn near break me, and I wrap my arms around her, pulling her against my chest, where she starts to cry even harder.
I hate it so damn much, but there’s nothing I can do.
I can’t tell her it’s okay because it’s not okay, and I’m not okay.
And I can’t tell her it’s not her fault because, in a way, it is.
So I don’t say anything at all. I just hold her and rub her back, and I fight the tears stinging my eyes. When she’s finally calmed down, she pulls away, wiping off the wetness on her cheeks.
“I’m sorry.”
“I know,” I tell her. “I know you are, Clover.”
Her lips rise just slightly at my nickname for her, and it’s enough for me for right now.
“Does this…” Another trembling breath. “Do these dreams happen often?”
“Yes.” Even though she looks like she’s about to cry at my answer, I don’t try to change it. “And sometimes it’s not just when I’m dreaming. I…” I run a hand through my hair. “I’ve had a few panic attacks too.”
She closes her eyes, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth so tightly they lose their usual blush color and turn white. I pluck it free, and a lone tear falls as she looks at me again.
“I haven’t handled them alone. Stefan’s helped me.”
She nods, her chin wobbling. “I’m glad he was there…and I’m sorry I wasn’t.”
“I know,” I repeat. “But there’s nothing we can do about it now. So no more tears, all right?”
Another nod, and I tug her to me again just because I want to. Because I need to. We sit like that for a long time, so long I fear she’s fallen asleep again.
“Hey,” I say, and she stirs. Her face is red and splotchy, her eyes still glossy as she peers down at me. “It’s late. We should probably get some sleep. Road trip starts tomorrow, remember?”
“Right.” She pushes off my lap, and I miss her heat the second she slips away and stands. “I should go.”
“Go? What? No. It’s”—I grab my phone from the table and check the time, ignoring the waiting text—“damn near three o’clock in the morning. You’re not going anywhere.”
“But I—”
I shake my head. “No. No buts. You’re staying.”
She wants to argue but thinks better of it. “All right,” she concedes. “I’ll take the couch.”
I give her a look that says Be so fucking for real just before I swoop her up into my arms.
“Callum!”
She protests, trying to wiggle free, but I ignore her.
She blows out a puff of air. “I think you somehow managed to get even more annoying while I was away.”
“Yeah, well, maybe you shouldn’t have left, huh?”
She gasps, shocked as hell that I just said that, and honestly, I’m shocked too. It’s the most raw and honest thing I’ve said to her since she got back. But maybe that’s just what we need—to be brutally truthful with each other.
Once the shock wears off, a laugh bubbles out of her, then another and another until she’s giggling uncontrollably. It makes me laugh, too.
“You’re ridiculous,” I say as I carry her into my bedroom, glad I left my bedside lamp on before I left. I drop her onto the bed ungracefully before going to the dresser.
“Here.” I pull out a t-shirt and chuck it at her. “You can sleep in this.”
True to her unathletic skills, she misses it, and it lands right on her face. She giggles as she peels it away, and even though it’s been a heavy night, it’s still my favorite sound in the world.
“Am I allowed to use the bathroom on my own, or are you going to carry me in there too?”
I move like I’m about to do just that, but she darts off the bed, locking herself in my en suite. The second she’s gone, the smile fades from my lips, and I scrub my hand over my face.
“Fuck,” I mutter to myself as I sit on the edge of the bed, exhaustion setting in. From the game, the last few days, the dream…everything.
I’m tired down to my bones in a way I haven’t been since before Chloe left, back when things between us felt…
off. I could never put my finger on what it was, but I knew we weren’t one hundred percent.
I didn’t think it would lead to what it did, but I guess all the signs were there. I just never thought to look at them.
I press my fingers around the bruise on my knee, checking it out. It hurts like a son of a bitch, but it’s nothing I haven’t been through before. I’m sure it’s going to suck for a few days, especially being on the road, but I’ll pull through. Speaking of going on the road…
I pull my phone from my pocket and check the text from earlier.
“Is everything okay?”
I whip my head up to find Chloe standing in the bathroom doorway.
The Seattle Serpents t-shirt I gave her hugs her in all the right places, clinging to her plush curves and soft belly rolls and hitting just under her ass cheeks.
She’s fucking gorgeous, and I have to fight the urge to march across the room and fuck her right where she stands.
“Callum?”
I give myself a shake. “Huh? Oh, uh, yeah. Well, no.” I hold up my phone. “My pet sitter won’t be able to cover Percy for a few days. Apparently, their whole house is sick.”
“Oh no. That sucks.”
I nod, my eyes falling to where the t-shirt sits tight against her thighs. I swallow roughly. “Yeah, it does.”
“I can do it.”
I force my stare back to hers. “What?”
“I can do it,” she repeats. “I can take care of Percy for you.”
“Are you…sure?” She’s already nodding. “He’s a pain in the ass and requires allergy meds daily. It can get a little dicey sometimes.”
She laughs, crossing the room and stopping right in front of me. I squeeze my phone in my hands to keep from reaching out and checking to see if her thick thighs are as soft as I remember. “Oh, I know. How is your cut, by the way?”
“Doesn’t even hurt,” I tell her. I completely forgot about my scuffle with Percy while trying to give him his meds until just now. “Are you sure you don’t mind taking care of him?”
“Are you kidding me? I’d get to hang out with a three-legged cat and get covered in cat hair. It sounds like the perfect day to me.”
“All right. But only if you really don’t mind.”
She lifts her eyes skyward, then circles her arms around my neck. “I don’t. Let me do this for you. Please.”
It’s the same word that undid her earlier, and it has the same effect on me now.
“Okay.”
“Good.” She presses a kiss to my forehead. “Now that that’s settled…”
Then she practically skips to the bed. She pulls up the blanket and slides into the side farthest away from the door, and the familiarity of the scene almost knocks me down.
“I can’t sleep next to the door. What if someone comes in and…and…I don’t know! What if they try to touch my butt?”
“Then they’re going to get a handful with that big thing.”
“Hey! I thought you liked my big butt!”
“No, Clover, I love your big butt.” I kiss her cheek. “Now go to bed.”
From that day on, even in hotel rooms when I was alone, I slept nearest to the door.
“Callum? Are you okay?”
I look over at her, the comforter already pulled up to her chin as she snuggles into the bed.
“Yeah. Sorry.” I point to the bathroom. “Be right back.”
I hurry away before she can say anything else and lock myself inside.
I stop in front of the sink, resting my hands on the countertop as I pull in breath after breath.
I’m about to sleep next to my wife for the first time in three years.
I shouldn’t be nervous. I shouldn’t even be thinking twice about it, but here I am.
It’s just sleep. You’ll be fine. You’ll be gone tomorrow, and you’ll have some space to sort out everything you’re feeling. Just get through tonight. I tell myself that—or a version of it—over and over until I start to believe it.
I quickly brush my teeth and throw on the same sweatpants I wore to bed last night before padding back out to the bedroom.
Chloe’s eyes are still open, and she’s staring at the door, almost like she’s afraid I wouldn’t come back.
I give her a soft smile, then make my way to my side and flip the bedside lamp off.
I slide into the bed beside her, and almost instantly, she scoots closer.
I lift my arm, and she fits herself against me like it’s exactly where she belongs.
Her hand lands on my chest, close to the chain I have dangling around my neck, but she never touches it. I get the sense she wants to ask questions, but I’m grateful when she doesn’t. We lie there in the dark for so long I think she’s fallen asleep.
Then she says, “I’m still sorry, Callum.”
I squeeze my eyes closed, then hold her closer. “I know, Clover. I know.” I press a kiss to her forehead. “Get some sleep.”
She sighs but nestles deeper beneath the covers, her grip on me tightening, almost like she’s scared I’m going to slip away in the middle of the night. I’m just about asleep when she says three soft words.
“I missed you.”
It’s the last thing I remember before drifting off into slumber.