Chapter 31
Lee
I watch Caspian as he sleeps, his hands tucked under the pillow at his cheek. I said he’d use the guest room, but when bedtime came, I couldn’t seem to let him go, not even so far as a few doors down the hall.
He didn’t question why I led him to my own room instead. Merely slipped under the covers and closed his eyes.
Is this a dream? Some fantasy I conjured inside my head? Am I lying unconscious on the forest floor? Dead?
I don’t think so. Moonlight bathes Caspian’s face in light, the flicker of it as clouds pass convincing me this must be real. He’s here, whoever he is.
“I’m yours.”
I rub my chest, not sure whether the ache there is real or imagined.
I don’t remember falling asleep, but I wake to an empty bed. I’m up in an instant, my heart pounding as I race out into the hall. Empty, as is the bathroom. I head down the stairs, not sure what I’d do if Caspian is gone .
But he’s not gone. He’s sitting in my living room, eyes wide as I come to a halting stop at the foot of the stairs. Shelly is lying in his lap, purring loudly as she kneads his thigh.
I try to calm my breathing. Try to remember it’s fine if Caspian goes. He lives close by, and it’s not as if he could stay here forever. What am I even expecting? Do I want him to stay? Maybe I just want answers.
Worry lines Caspian’s face. “Are you okay?”
“Fine.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Want to try again?”
I stare at this man who barged into my life, upending all I thought I knew.
The man who’s apparently seen my future or his own or who-the-fuck-knows-what.
He’s sitting on my couch, the tiniest smile on his face like he understands what I’m feeling.
How can he possibly? I’m spinning in a void, no direction up, my sense of what’s real distorted beyond what I can rationally comprehend.
“Tell me another one,” I say, raking my fingers through my hair as I step into the room. His eyebrow remains lifted until I clarify, “Something else you’ve seen.”
He hums, watching me as I take a seat nearby, a single cushion between us. He continues petting Shelly, my cat eating up the attention, her paws flexing in bliss. “There’s no way for you to know if it’s true. It hasn’t happened yet.”
“Tell me anyway.”
Caspian closes his eyes, as if recalling whatever it is he’s seen. My pulse hammers as I wait, the beat of it loud in my ears. “It’s dark. And you’re outside. It’s cold, but you’re wearing a warm coat and don’t seem to mind it. The stars are out.”
“Are you there?”
Caspian’s eyes open, blue meeting mine. “I have to be. That’s how it works. ”
“Go on.”
He inhales a soft breath. He doesn’t close his eyes this time, but his gaze is distant. “The stars are out, and you’re looking up at them. You say, ‘They’re so bright tonight.’ And then you look at me.”
“Is that it?”
“No.”
“But you don’t want to tell me?”
He shakes his head slowly. “I can’t.”
“Why?”
Caspian seems to weigh his words before speaking. “Because I want to know it’s real when it happens. That I didn’t put words in your mouth.”
There goes my pulse again. “Did you forget you already named my unborn child?”
He huffs a laugh, a smile on his face as he looks down at Shelly. His cheeks are pink, and the sight of it—him, my cat, that blush—has me feeling fondly protective in a way I can’t easily dismiss.
He didn’t say it outright, but we’re together in that future he sees. Aren’t we? He’s there, at the very least. He’s still in my life. Far from now.
His lips twist ruefully as he meets my gaze. “You likely would have picked the name anyway. Because of your mom.”
That’s true. Penelope would be my first choice for a daughter.
I heave out a breath, rubbing the tops of my thighs and realizing I’m still in my sleepwear. “I’ll…be right back.”
When I get back downstairs, dressed for the day, Caspian is in the kitchen, looking through my fridge. “What do you normally eat for breakfast?”
“Let’s go out. ”
His head whips my way. “Out?”
“You’re new here. And from what you’ve said, I take it you haven’t had a chance to see town?”
“Not much of it.”
“Then let’s go out. There’s a nice diner five minutes from here. Unless you’d rather stay?”
He frowns a little, closing the fridge. “No, that’s fine. It’s just… Is that okay? Your doctor said to rest.”
I offer a wan smile. “I’m feeling well enough for a short trip. Believe me. It’s not the first time I’ve had my chest sliced open.”
Caspian’s face pales, a sharp breath sucked through his lips. The reaction surprises me, and I step forward, offering my hand to keep him steady.
“Hey, you all right?”
“Can we not…talk about your chest being open? I can’t… I don’t…” He shakes his head quickly, and I tug him in without thought, my arms wrapping around him, my hand rubbing soothing circles over his back.
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”
“It’s fine,” he murmurs, but clearly I hit a nerve.
“It was a quick outpatient procedure,” I remind him. “Hardly invasive, not like it used to be. I’m fine to drive, and I can even start exercising again in a week or so. I promise it’s no big deal.”
Caspian eases back, the stern expression on his face nearly making me laugh. That is, until he speaks. “You died, Lee. Forgive me for not wanting the reminder.”
“I’ll always have the scars,” I point out.
My pulse picks up when Caspian places his palm on my chest. The bandage is still there beneath my shirt, freshly changed this morning. The surgical glue looked pristine when I checked, only a thin pink line proof of the new pacemaker beneath my skin.
Caspian traces his finger over the spot as if he can feel it, when I know he can’t. The new generation of devices are so slim, they don’t even leave a bump. Not like my first one did when I was a child.
His voice is near a whisper. “I’ve seen you die so many times. I don’t think you understand, Lee.”
No, I don’t think I do, either.
My pulse feathers beneath Caspian’s fingertips, his eyes filled with more sorrow than someone his age should hold. I wrap my hand over his, stilling his nervous motions, and those eyes ping to mine.
“Sorry.” He steps quickly back, his hand slipping away. “Breakfast sounds great.”
I watch Caspian walk from the room, my inhale shaky.
I don’t think anything is going to be the same after this.
The drive to the diner is quiet but short.
Caspian watches out the passenger window the entire time, the hum of the engine barely there amidst the roll of tires on pavement.
The parking lot is decently full, considering it’s the weekend.
I find a spot, and Caspian hops out, looking around curiously.
“Preferences on seating?” I ask as we walk toward the door.
“I’m guessing your lap is out?”
I stutter a step at the barely there words, and Caspian laughs lightly.
Jesus .
As if he hadn’t offered that suggestion, he says, “Booth would be fine.”
We’re seated at a booth minutes later, a waitress taking our drink orders before we’re left with menus to peruse. Caspian seems intrigued by the people in the restaurant. I suppose, if he considers this his new home, getting to know the locals might be a priority of his.
His focus shifts to me before long. “You said you co-coach the high school football team?”
“I do,” I answer, setting my menu down. “It’s good fun. Barely any injuries anymore with all the new rules and regulations in place, which is great for the kids.”
“Not like the good ol’ days, huh?”
I huff. “You say that like you lived it.”
Caspian simply hums, looking away, missing my narrowed gaze. “What’s your mascot or…team name or whatever?”
“We’re the Warriors.”
His head whips back my way so fast, he nearly knocks his drink over with his elbow. He steadies the glass, eyes wide.
“What?” I ask, alarmed.
“You’re… You…” Caspian starts to laugh, and I’m officially at a loss. He wipes a tear from below his eye, voice choked. “It’s nothing. Nothing at all.”
“Right… Does this maybe have to do with the stuff you shouldn’t know but do?”
He seems amused by the vague wording of my question. “Something like that.”
“Mhm.” I set my arms on the table, putting us closer as Caspian works to compose himself. “And are you ever going to tell me all these…somethings?”
He lets out a quiet breath, his elbows on the table mirroring mine. “In time.”
“Because you’re trying to ease me into…all this?”
“Yes.”
“You know, I’ve never really been the type of person to rely on faith,” I tell him.
“No, that’s certainly not you. ”
My head rocks back at the casually confident statement, and Caspian gives me an almost apologetic smile. I don’t bother asking how he seems so sure of it. So sure of me .
He goes on in a softer tone. “I’m not asking you to blindly trust me, Lee. I’m asking you to get to know me. To form your own conclusions.”
“Conclusions about…”
He shrugs a little, his hands folded on the table, so near to mine. “Me.”
The unspoken us hangs in the air. Because learning who Caspian is ensures there’s an us in some capacity, doesn’t it? Whether we become friends or… more , as Caspian put it.
I shake my head. “I didn’t expect you, Caspian Wilder. But I also didn’t expect to die at thirty-two, so there’s that.”
He winces, and I cover his hand with my own, squeezing gently.
“I’m sorry. It’s just…it’s been an interesting few days. I’m fine. I promise.”
Caspian looks as if he wants to say something, but our waitress returns to take our order. When she goes, we’re back to staring at one another, the silence between us heavy. Caspian fidgets with the band on his wrist, the word “seizures” glaringly obvious now that I know what to look for.
“Do you have that for if you’re in public?” I ask. “So people know to leave you be?”
He nods, stopping his fidgeting.
“Is it dangerous to you? Having such frequent…episodes?”
Caspian shakes his head. “Apart from the occasional bump or bruise, no. They don’t cause any lasting damage.”
I nod, swallowing. The one he had in my kitchen wasn’t what I expected. He wasn’t seizing or convulsing. He barely moved at all. It was like he passed out, except his eyes never fully shut.
“Suppose we make a fine pair, huh?” I joke. “Me with my heart defect. You with your…condition.”
He smiles, and it’s so soft and, fuck, knowing that I have to glance away. My pulse is racing again, and I can’t tell if this is a Caspian effect or something else altogether. It’s almost a relief when our food arrives, offering me a distraction.
I unroll my silverware. “So what is it you want to do? Job-wise. Do you have a particular field of study you’re specialized in?”
Caspian hums, cutting into his pancakes. “I’m an astrophysicist.”
I drop my fork onto my plate, the clatter loud even amongst the din of the restaurant. Caspian watches me in amusement as I get my wits about me. “Fucking what?”
He laughs outright, looking incredibly smug at having caused such a reaction. “You heard me.”
“Jesus Christ. How?”
He answers before I’ve finished doing the math in my head. “I started college at seventeen and finished my graduate program a year early. Since then, I’ve been…busy.”
Looking for me .
I clear my throat. “So, uh…what do you plan to do here? As you might’ve noticed, we’re a fairly small town.”
His lips twitch. He’s enjoying this far too much. “I noticed. I’ll likely work remotely. I have an offer to participate in one of the global space initiatives.”
When I don’t say anything, Caspian looks up from his food.
“I’m sorry,” I say slowly before taking a full, deep breath. “Are you talking about colonization?”
He shrugs. Shrugs . As if it’s no big deal.
“Jesus Christ,” I repeat, scrubbing my face.
“I can’t go up myself.” Caspian sounds dismayed by that fact. “The seizures preclude me from eligibility. As would your heart defect.”
I nod, although I certainly never had aspirations of going up into freaking space.
Caspian lets out a soft sigh, clearly not of the same mind as me. “But the first civilian mission is scheduled for ten years from now. And…I’d like to be a part of it. To help make it happen.”
“You’re going to help the first shuttle of humans settle in space?”
His smile is one I’m starting to recognize. It’s him knowing more than he should. It’s a secret. One he’s more than confident in. “Yes. I am.”
Caspian goes back to eating his pancakes. And I realize…
Finding out who this man is isn’t even an option, is it? It’s inevitable. A course I couldn’t correct even if I tried. He’s here, the gravitational pull of our lives now intertwined, one and the same.
No. Nothing is going to be as it was before.
And I think I’m absolutely okay with that.