Isaac
I took a deep breath and said what I’d been thinking for a couple of weeks. “Something is wrong.”
Cade looked up from his food to frown at me, glancing over to see that Clay was currently at the buffet, staring at the fresh fruit like it held the answers to string theory. “What?”
“I was hoping you could tell me if something is wrong with him,” I said softly, and when a wry look crossed his face, I frowned. “I’m serious. No jokes.”
“Alright,” he said, taking a drink. “What makes ya think somethin’ is wrong?”
I watched his expression, the way his eyes held mine before darting over to Clay and then down at the table. I groaned. “You know it too, don’t you?”
Cade winced. “I wasn’t tryin’ to say anythin’.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s...him,” he said with a miserable shrug.
Yes, Clay was Clay, and he was always going to be Clay.
And Clay didn’t like talking about what was going on in his head, and he wouldn’t be happy if he knew Cade was admitting to me that he too, knew something was wrong.
Not that he had any ground to stand on in being surprised, I sure as hell didn’t.
Clay’s changes over the past couple of weeks had been obvious.
“He’s cagey,” I said, looking at my barely touched meal. “He’s quieter than usual. And it feels like he’s...a tiger pacing its cage. It feels like, at any moment, whatever is going on in his head is going to explode. Not break out, not sneak out, but explode. Please, Cade, help me here.”
“I don’t know what’s going on,” he said softly. “We don’t talk, not like that anyway. I know he goes through some bad times; you’ve seen that.”
“I have,” I agreed. “Has it ever been like this?”
Cade glanced at Clay, who seemed to have decided that a banana was the more interesting fruit. “No. He at least tells me when he’s havin’ a bad head time. He...I don’t know what’s going on. I know he’s been seein’ the head shrink though.”
“Twice a week,” I said with a sigh.
“Ya think that’s the problem?”
“I think that no one in charge of this place would hire a therapist who is going to hurt anyone, or make them worse.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
I remembered my friend and the struggles she’d gone through with therapy, and how it had felt to her like it was making everything worse.
That made sense, and I couldn’t say it was too early for it to start being rough on Clay because.
..well, there were a lot of things he hadn’t dealt with that therapy might be dragging out.
At the same time, it was like he was both the tiger and the cage, resenting the state he was in but not letting himself communicate it.
So far, all he had done was work out more, avoid most other activities, and quietly sit with Cade or me.
“I think the therapy might be bringing up things that are making it harder for him, but he needed to deal with those long before,” I said, hurting for Clay.
“At the same time, it’s a lot. I’m afraid he’s throwing too much at himself, but he won’t talk to me about it.
When I’ve tried, he shuts down, and then—”
Cade frowned. “Has he...done anythin’?”
I winced at the question. “The other day I tried to talk to him. I didn’t think I was pushing that hard, but he snapped and threw his cup at the wall to make me stop.”
Cade stared at me. “Why didn’t ya say somethin’? That ain’t like him at all.”
“No, it’s not, which is why I kept it to myself.
He’s going through a lot,” I said, knowing I sounded like I was making excuses for him, but I wasn’t.
He really was going through a lot right now, and I didn’t think telling people or ‘reporting’ it was going to help.
“I’ve felt afraid for him a few times, and I still do, but—”
“That was the first time ya ever felt afraid of him,” Cade said softly, nodding.
“It was just one moment, I wasn’t expecting him to lash out like that,” I admitted, hating how I sounded.
Clay had never given me any reason to fear him, and I hated that I’d felt that in the moment rather than understanding there was a lot more going on in his head than anyone else knew. “But he did, and I—”
Cade’s frown deepened, and he took a deep breath. “I-I don’t know what to do. He won’t talk to me either, and I tried.”
“And he hasn’t lashed out?”
“No, but—”
“But what?” I asked, desperate for any guidance or an answer, anything.
“But he’s different with you,” he said slowly, licking his lips nervously.
“Different than he’s been with anyone else.
He’s...gentle, he smiles more around you, like really smiles.
He’s always lookin’ for someone or somethin’ that might be dangerous for ya, and he’s always. .. Well, I don’t know if I should.”
“If it can help me to help him, please.”
“I don’t know if it will.”
“Anything might help at this point,” I protested, desperate to get something out of Cade before Clay came back to the table. “Please.”
He sighed heavily. “I don’t know, he didn’t talk about her too much, but he has a few times. And I guess, the way he talked about how he was with Gina...he acts like that with you.”
I stared at him, understanding what he was trying to say. It finally started to click into place. “You think he’s...I mean.”
“I dunno,” he admitted, screwing up his face. “Make up your mind, finally?”
“Yeah,” Clay grunted, dropping onto the seat next to me. “You guys looked like you were talking about something real serious.”
“We were trying to decide if you wanted that banana for the taste or the shape,” I said without missing a beat and popping a large piece of chicken into my mouth to conceal any guilt.
God, like his late wife? Was that what Clay’s problem was? Did he think I was trying to be a replacement for her? Or was he afraid he was turning me into a replacement for her?
Cade snickered. “He said taste, I said shape.”
“It can be both,” Clay said with a smirk, reminding me for that brief flash that even if he wasn’t completely acting like himself, the Clay I had come to know was still in there. “I like your banana for its shape and taste.”
“And people say romance doesn’t exist anymore,” I said with a laugh as Cade wrinkled his nose.
“Y’all ain’t right,” Cade grumbled.
“If we were, we wouldn’t be here,” I pointed out, but didn’t miss the way Clay’s expression darkened at my words before trying to conceal it by shoving the rest of the banana into his mouth. “Keep that up and I might be tempted to skip yoga class.”
Clay stared at me, blinking rapidly before trying to grin, realizing he was going to put mushed banana on display, and covered his mouth to chew and swallow. “You won’t hear me complain.”
“I’m tryin’ to eat here,” Cade muttered.
“Someone’s jealous,” Clay said with a snort as he stood up, grabbing his plate and giving me a look. “Thought I might stop by my room to grab my stuff before I go work out, didn’t you leave your yoga clothes in there?”
“I did,” I said, knowing the offer for what it was. My appetite hadn’t been the best lately, so I wasn’t going to try finishing my food.
“Y’all ain’t slick,” Cade said with a smirk. “Gettin’ your clothes? Yeah, more like gettin’ ’em off.”
“And?” I asked lightly. “Maybe he’s right. Are you jealous? I’m sure we could fit you in.”
Cade looked horrified. “Go away!”
Clay grinned as he walked off, but I didn’t miss the way his shoulders slumped slightly. I glanced at Cade. “I’ll try to talk to him, okay? But I don’t want to push too hard. We just need to be here for him as best we can.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Cade said softly, waving me off. “Go on now.”
I wasn’t surprised that the walk back to Clay’s room was silent, disappointed and bothered, but not surprised.
It seemed like he didn’t have anything to add to any conversation, at least not when it counted.
Those moments, like minutes ago, when he was a lot more like the Clay I’d come to know, felt more like flashes of his old self surfacing before burying itself deep again.
Every other moment, it was like there was a gulf between us that grew with an implacable steadiness that left me feeling helpless because I didn’t know how to make it stop.
We entered his room, and the first thing he did was go to the bathroom.
I waited for him to be done, emerging in an invisible cloud of minty freshness before taking my spot at the sink to brush my teeth as well.
I could hear him moving around the room quietly, but I didn’t hear the drawer open.
That was another thing; I hadn’t seen him mess with the drawer where his family’s portrait normally sat, and despite initially being willing to talk about them after the night he’d broken down and told me his story, he had barely mentioned Gina or Mikael.
“There,” I said as I emerged with a clean mouth. “I no longer have Nashville breath, now where…oh!”
He must have been waiting for me because he was on me in an instant, making me laugh as his arm wrapped around my waist and picked me up with an ease that had always been exhilarating rather than frightening.
I’d never been a fan of being manhandled, though I had obviously quashed my discomfort for the sake of my clients.
With Clay, that had never been necessary because from the first moment I’d let him touch me, I knew they were the hands of a man who would sooner throw himself off a cliff into crocodile-infested water than do anything to hurt me intentionally.
“Unhand me, sir!” I cried as he maneuvered us toward the bed.
He, of course, did no such thing, and I felt myself hefted up again and dropped onto the bed.
Clay was on me before I could complete my second bounce, and I hummed in appreciation as I realized he had stripped to his underwear while I’d been brushing my teeth.
“Oh, I see you’ve already got yourself nearly ready, just for me? ”
“Just for you,” he chuckled, bending his head to bury it into my throat and kiss the sensitive skin, making me squirm.