22. Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Two
Jamie
T en steps. That’s how many it takes to pace the width of my tiny hotel room. Twenty five if I’m going from the door to the foot of the bed. I know because I’ve counted, many, many times in the hours since I left Caiden’s.
Spinning on my heels, I start again. One, two, three, four, five…. Then turn and do it again. My hands flop at my sides, and on each turn I eye my phone on the white sheets of the hotel bed. There’s three missed calls on it - all from Rachel. Nothing from Caiden. But why would there be?
Six, seven, eight….I need to get out of here. Looking out the window, I watch the heavy summer rain batter against the window, taking note of the sea of umbrellas on the sidewalk below me. I’m not opposed to running in the rain but I am afraid of where my feet will take me.
“Why are you really here, Jamie?
Yes, Jamie, why?
I’m still in this fucking hotel, still ignoring my girlfriend, still pulling my hair out over my inability to pack up and leave. Still here. Caiden wasn’t entirely wrong either. At first it was about Cooper - knowing he would have come running when Caiden called, knowing he’d have wanted me to do the same. That’s why I came to Kingston in the first place. But it’s not why I stayed and hiding behind him isn’t fair on anyone.
The truth is, I never let Cooper go. I never got the chance to say goodbye. Not the day he died, not at his funeral. One day he was there, the love of my life, and the next he was gone. Rachel doesn’t deserve my apathy - none of the girls I fucked after his death did. And she doesn’t deserve what I did to her earlier today.
Caiden got under my skin and I let him. Let him bury so deep I feared he could see all my secrets, feared he could tell just how damaged I still am. Caiden pushed and he pushed and I snapped. It wasn’t about Cooper, it was everything to do with Caiden. As much as I know it shouldn’t have happened - and will absolutely not happen again - I can’t bring myself to regret it. I used to think Caiden’s actions were selfish, used to get so angry when Cooper got stuck picking up the pieces, but now I don’t think I’m any better.
My phone rings and I look at the bed in time to see Sage’s photo pop up. I grab it and answer hastily, then take a seat on the edge of the bed. Now that she’s in her third trimester, I’m bracing myself for the call that says it’s go time.
“Sage, are you okay? Is it baby time?” My voice comes out in a rush, all the words meshing together, and I feel the tension bleed from my shoulders when she laughs.
“Calm down, uncle Jamie, baby isn’t making her appearance just yet, it’s still too early. I was calling to check on my best friend. Call it mother’s intuition -”
“You have that already?”
Sage laughs. “Yeah, pretty sure I’ve had it from the instant sperm met egg.” I chuckle along with her. “As I was saying, I called because I was worried about you. After we spoke yesterday, I realised I didn’t actually know what your plans were. Are you coming home soon?”
“I fucked him,” I blurt as I flop onto my back on the bed.
She mumbles what I think is “here we go,” under her breath before addressing me.
“Please tell me that the ‘him’ in this story is not your stepbrother. The twin of your dead boyfriend?”
“Sage.”
“Jamie.”
She sighs loud enough for me to hear over the phone. “What were you thinking? I told you, he’s not Cooper. You can't treat him -”
“I know!” I yell and instantly regret it. “I’m sorry. It just happened, okay? And it had nothing to do with Cooper.”
“I’m not buying the whole ‘he tripped and fell onto my dick’ excuse,” she scoffs. “These things don’t just happen. Now talk.” The line goes silent and I picture her glaring at me through the phone.
“I was trying to take care of him. I was making him breakfast.”
“Well, there's your first mistake. Continue,” she says.
“He got mad about it and then accused me of feeling guilty about….about Rachel. About moving on. Then he asked me if I think of Coop when I’m with her.”
“O-kay.” She drags out the word. “And you said?”
“Yes. Fuck, that makes me sounds like the worst person in the world. But yes, all the time okay? But not with…”
“Not with Caiden,” Sage interrupts. “And why do you think that is, Jay? If this isn’t about replacing Coop with a carbon copy of him, what is it?”
Rolling onto my stomach, I bury my face in the sheets while still holding the phone against my ear. “I don’t know.”
Sage is silent for so long, I move the phone away from my ear to check we’re still connected. When she finally speaks, her words are soft but direct. “I love you, Jay. You know I do. But Caiden has been hurt so many times before, he doesn’t need you hurting him too. I know you wouldn’t intentionally do that but, things could get messy. If you want to fix your brotherly relationship, do that. Hell, be his friend. But anything else isn’t a good idea.”
Groaning, I say, “You’re right. I know you are.” I make up my mind then and there. Something about the thought of being another person in a long line to hurt the guy makes it easier. He's said it before- he doesn't want or need me here.
“I’m going to go see him tomorrow. Tell him, I’m sorry for all of it. For the funeral and for today. I’ll tell him I hope we can be friends, that he can call me anytime he wants or needs. But then I’ll leave. I’ll go back to Devon and back to my life.” My stomach swirls uncomfortably at that entire scenario but Sage is right and this is what’s best for everyone.
“What are you going to do about Rachel?” Sage asks.
“I’ll tell her the truth. Then, maybe it’s time I went and said goodbye to Cooper for good and finally tried to actually move on. Not pretend like I’ve been doing.”
Sage hums something like agreement. “I’ll come with you, if you want.” She knows I’ve never been able to visit his grave, in the same way I know she goes once a month and leaves him flowers that she says are from me. “No one blames you for not letting go, Jay. We all loved him but no one as much as you. I’m sorry you lost him.”
My eyes well up and I nod into the sheets. My throat goes tight, making it impossible to speak.
“Come see me when you get back, okay?”
I make a grumbling noise and Sage ends the call. Hiding my head beneath the pillow, I scream and scream until my throat aches, then drag myself off the bed and into the shower.
Turning the water to scorching, I stand under it until my skin stings, turning bright red. With my head against the cool tiles and my hair dripping in front of my face, I close my eyes and picture Caiden. Allowing myself to think of what happened between us just this once.
There’d been times before - years ago - when I’d catch him looking at me, when our hands would brush or I’d be hyper aware of his presence next to me and I’d get this feeling like something minute existed in the unspoken words between us. I was so wholly devoted to Cooper, I never gave it any light. Never let it bloom into anything more than chemical reactions. Even then, it wasn’t a sexual pull, in the same way today didn’t feel entirely about sex either.
Whatever today was, felt far more intoxicating. Deeper. Meaningful. When our lips met, there was something inside of me that cried out to him. Lost in the moment - lust and anger fuelled - I wanted him more than the air in my lungs. How we got there eludes me, but perhaps kissing Caiden was the end result of a thousand smaller choices we made - a butterfly effect.
When I was thirteen, my mum explained to me that small actions, no matter how tiny, can have great impacts, and that each and every one determines the path our lives take. Mum used the example of meeting my dad. Telling me about how she was meant to drive to work but then her car wouldn’t start. She had a choice to walk or take the bus but because it was raining she opted to take the bus. On the bus that day, she sat next to a man who was also having car troubles. She’d never have met my dad - or had me - if not for her car breaking down. If you take any scenario, you can break it down into the million little paths you took to get to the here and now.
I think of this often - even more so since Cooper died. About how everything that came before led to the second he took his eyes off the road.
It’s what I’ve been wanting to tell Caiden all along. One of the reasons I tried calling him over and over again not long after the funeral. I know he blames himself, the same way I blamed him. The same way I so often blame myself. But it’s not as simple as what he thinks because there were thousands of other factors that culminated in that one moment.
I’m thinking of this when I climb out the shower, rub my raw skin dry and throw on clean clothing. I’m still replaying the steps that led us here when I pack up my things and call Rachel. She’s thrilled when I tell her I’ll be home by tomorrow night.
The nausea hits again and I sink down and hug my knees to my chest.