Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
MAEVE
Tate tossed and turned all night long.
I felt bad for dozing off every now and then, only to be woken up by the bed jostling slightly from his weight as he twisted around.
Back and forth. Blanket off, blanket on.
Flipping the pillow over five different times.
Eventually, I had to wrap my arms around his from behind, squeezing him tightly until I felt his breathing settle, and I fell asleep once more.
After four orgasms, I thought for sure that would help settle his restless, anxious mind, but not even that could help.
Four fucking orgasms.
He was eating out of the palm of my hand for two hours, coming so many times that it was making me tired.
I don’t know how he was still going; all I know is it was hot.
The fact that it was me making him feel like that stirred up a beast that had been sleeping in my core for so long, I don’t know if it had ever even been fully awake.
My cheeks lift at the memory as I drop my head to the side, peering over at Tate’s finally sleeping figure.
His back rises and falls gently, his face pressed into the soft pillow.
His hair is a disheveled mess, strewn around the white pillowcase, and his full lips are parted with his faint snores.
He looks so peaceful, and I don’t have the heart to wake him after the night he had.
So, instead, I carefully roll out of the bed, meticulous with every movement so he doesn’t stir, before heading to the bathroom to quietly get ready.
I’m so determined for him to get his rest that I don’t even flush the toilet after peeing, making a mental note to do it as he gets up and before he goes to the bathroom.
I know we’re supposed to be on our way to Albuquerque today, but something about that doesn’t sit right in my stomach.
He’s clearly torn up about the news from his mother, and he should have the space and time to deal with this properly.
He can’t do that if he’s driving all the way back to Pennsylvania and starting classes again.
I need to do something. Help.
There aren’t many options for resolving his problem, but the least I can do is help lighten the load he has on his plate right now. To help him process this the way he needs to.
So after I brush my teeth, get dressed, and fix my face, I sneak out of the hotel room, closing the door slowly behind me, and go down to the lobby to make a few phone calls to Cedar Grove. They’ll have to be able to give me something.
Finding an empty little table in the quiet lobby, far enough away from the front desk for some privacy, I make my call.
But I’m so caught up in everything that I forget the university offices are closed for the holidays, so I’m greeted with a voicemail message instead.
I’m barely able to focus on the automated voice on the other end as I’m thinking of what to say, how to word it without rambling, when the small beep finally sounds.
“Hi,” I say, sitting up straighter and swallowing thickly before continuing, “I’m calling to double-check the absence policy when it comes to family emergencies, and what paperwork I might need to have in case I miss too many days of classes at the beginning of this next semester.
If you could give me a call back at your earliest convenience. Thank you.”
My face contorts into a grimace as I hang up. Did that cover everything? Surely, it didn’t. I must have missed something. I should have rehearsed before calling or written it down.
The thought gnaws at me for the next few minutes as I sit at the table, my knee bouncing impatiently as I bite at the tip of my thumb. There’s no way they’re calling me back, not today, probably not until classes are back in session. This dumb break.
But I need information. Before we drive even further away from Seattle, further away from Tatum getting the closure he needs.
Starting whatever healing process he needs to.
I can’t let that happen. I can’t just let him get all the way back to Pennsylvania without fixing this, somehow.
Without getting the ending he deserves with his mom. Closing the book.
I don’t know what kind of ending that may be, but he deserves to see it through.
The not knowing is eating me alive, and I refuse to go back up to that room without some sort of solution, so I pick up my phone once more and go to the university’s website. There should be a list of policies available, or a file I can download to review.
About three minutes later, I finally find one.
Serious illness, hospitalization, death or illness of a family member, or crisis situation…
Four consecutive days or more…
The Office of Student Affairs…
Up to the instructor’s discretion…
He’ll be fine. He can miss the first few days of class, have a note from the hospital where his mom is, and his professors will excuse the absences. He will be fine.
We could turn back the other way and head to Seattle today, be there in two days, and still have extra time since classes don’t start back until after New Year’s. I can just catch a flight back home before classes start. Easy peasy.
This can work, this will work.
Satisfied enough with what I found, I stuff my phone into my back pocket and head back up to the hotel room. It’s nearing checkout time, and as much as I wish I could let him sleep all day, we’ve got to get moving.
When I enter the room, Tate is stirring quietly, stretching and yawning as he peeks through a squint over at me.
“Good morning,” I say softly, closing the door behind me.
He rubs his eyes sleepily, sitting up as he grabs his glasses from the nightstand and puts them on. “Where’d you go?”
“I, uh…” I rack my brain for the right words. I want to run this by him in a sensitive way, in a way that tells him I’m trying to help, not tell him what to do. “I was making some phone calls.”
Tate’s brow furrows as he blinks up at me. “Is everything okay?”
What if he thinks I’m intruding on his business or overstepping where I shouldn’t? Maybe he’d like to deal with his personal business on his own time, without me there, looking over his shoulder every two seconds like a stalker.
Rubbing my arms sheepishly, I walk over to sit on the bed next to him, peeking up at him hesitantly through my lashes.
“Yes, everything is okay,” I assure him gently, reaching to put my hand over his.
He looks wary, but not in the way where he seems skeptical or scared; it’s more so in concern.
For me. Like I’m about to break the most terrible news.
“I just… I called The Office of Student Affairs to see how strict the attendance policy is when it comes to family emergencies.”
“You…did?” he asks, his voice small. “I thought they were closed for break?”
I nod nervously. “Yes, I left a voicemail, but I also decided to research it myself. It’s on the campus website.
You’ll be okay if you miss a few days of class, especially if you can provide some proof, like a medical note or something.
We could drive to Seattle, and you could see your mother.
I can fly back to Pennsylvania before class starts, and you can come back when… you’re finished there.”
His gaze drops down to the bed, his lips twisting as he chews at them from the inside. “That seems like a lot to ask of you. I don’t want to drag you all around the country like that.”
“That’s my decision,” I tell him, “one I’m okay with making.”
He drove me all the way to California, and was about to drive all the way back to campus without a second thought, and he thinks this would be too much for me to do? It’s the least I can do, considering how much he’s helped me.
“You think I should s-see her?”
I cock my head sympathetically. “That’s not up to me, but… You seem really bothered by this, Tatum. Maybe you should consider it. Maybe it’ll give you…closure.”
I know his mother isn’t dead, and very well could survive this whole thing, but if anything, he can get closure on the childhood he had because of her.
Maybe he could even get some answers, an apology.
Something to help him close that chapter for good, or even reopen a new one.
Who knows how it could go? I only want what’s best for him.
His eyes are still trained on the bed, like he’s afraid to meet my gaze. Like he doesn’t want me to see how sad he is, even though I can see it in the weary sag of his shoulders.
“I don’t know what to do,” he whispers. “I didn’t think… The thought of never seeing her again never bothered me before, but now…”
“Now she’s asking you for something big,” I finish for him. “Something unfair and unimaginable.”
“Yeah,” he rasps, his eyes finally flickering up to look at me.
My hands find his cheeks as I brush my thumbs over his cheekbones. “I’m here for you. No matter what it is that you decide, I am with you.”
“Why?” His voice cracks with the question, and my heart lurches in my chest.
“Because you’d do the same for me,” I offer with a wince, knowing what he’s asking and knowing he’s wanting more. So, I suck in a deep breath and continue, “Because I care about you, Tate. I…care about how this affects you. About how you feel. You shouldn’t be alone with something like this.”
“I’m used to being alone,” he tries to joke, but I give him a pointed look.
“Yeah, but now you don’t have to be.”
There’s still a look of doubt marring his features, and that bothers me. Have I made him feel like I’m a flight risk? I guess, maybe, I did. I know I told him that I didn’t know if I’d be ready for something serious again, but that didn’t mean I didn’t want him in my life at all.
“I don’t want you to feel like you have to—”
“Tate,” I cut him off, “I do what I want to do. You know I do. If I didn’t want to be here with you, I wouldn’t be.”
“I…” He trails off, and I can feel him physically starting to tremble in my hands, making my brows furrow deeper. His hands fidget as he struggles to meet my gaze once more.