29. Clayton
Chapter 29
Clayton
I set the laptop on the table outside the cabin Kieran rented us for night. We were on day three of our road trip. The plan was to stay here today and check out the sights of the small town nestled in the foothills of the mountains before taking a different route back home. Kieran stopped at every town’s tourist information center and bought post cards to map his journey.
We’d left the next morning after the big accidental reveal of our relationship. There were still a ton of things I had to figure out. Like what I was going to do for work. I’d agreed to move in with Kieran when we got back home. I hadn’t felt ready, but part of that was out of fear. So much for me had changed that adding more felt precarious. I worried about a backslide in my progress, but I knew Kieran would be there for me every step of the way. But I still had to break the news to Patricia. I’d come to think of her as a friend. As a mom too. But I kept that to myself for now. It felt fragile, like if I thought about it too hard, or too close, the illusion would shatter.
The laptop chimed and I answered the call from my therapist. I’d been worried about missing my session with Theresa, so Kieran had solved the problem and brought his laptop along. He was currently taking a walk on the hiking trail that connected the cabin to the riverbank. He would wait for me to meet him down there and then we planned to walk up to the waterfall .
Theresa appeared, smiling and happy as usual. She took in my change of scenery and her smile widened. “Well, hello, Clay, how are you?”
“I’m—good?” Clearing my throat, I tried again. This time it didn’t sound like a question. “I’m good.”
“You seem to have changed location this week. Care to tell me about that? It seems like a significant change.”
Taking a deep breath, I told her all about Kieran. About how I felt for him. How he said he felt for me. About Archer and Shane and the way Archer had let me off the hook.
“I want to pause you for a moment. What do you mean he let you off the hook? Because he chose to let go of his anger?”
“I mean… yeah.”
“I don’t think he’s still not holding you accountable; he’s just doing it in a way that’s healthy for him. If anger wasn’t suiting him and his desire to heal, then it’s a good thing—for him—that he was able to let go of it. Has he welcomed you back into his life? Or offered to partner with you again?”
I snorted. “No. Of course not.”
“Then he’s still holding you accountable, but in a way that works for him. Some people seem to have no trouble holding on to anger for years and years and years. But it almost always eats away at them. It’s okay for people to be mad at you, but it’s also okay for them to not be mad at you. Their anger doesn’t have any value to you. It doesn’t make what you did any worse or better. It doesn’t have a voice in how hard you’ve worked with me and outside these sessions.”
“I just feel like he should still be angry. It makes me feel guilty that he’s not. That, after all I did, he’s still so good that he doesn’t even hate me for it. And then I feel worse for screwing him over. ”
“Guilt is healthy. It shows remorse. That you knew what you did was wrong. It’s okay to feel bad about doing something bad. But now I want you to ask yourself if you’ve only ever done bad things? Or are there good things you’ve done too?”
If she’d asked me a week ago, I would’ve told her that I’d never done anything that was good. But then I remembered Michael. When we got back, I promised to teach him more about drawing.
“There was this kid…” I told her about Michael and how good it had felt to help him. To have a positive impact on his life. Even days later, it was like I was still riding the high from it. Talking about it made me animated, like an old forgotten part of me suddenly came back to life.
As our session was wrapping up, Theresa took off her glasses and set them aside. She steepled her fingers and made eye contact with me through the screens. “I want you to remember, Clay, that you are capable of doing good things as well as doing destructive things. And that the choice between the two is always yours. You always had the power to do wonderful things, to be the kind of person you can be proud of.”
My future was still very much up in the air. I had no idea what I was going to do with my life. I didn’t want to go back to being a tattoo artist. Nothing made sense anymore. Except for Kieran and the way he made me feel.
I might not have the answers, but I didn’t have to find them alone. When the therapy session was over, I stowed the laptop away and locked our cabin behind me, then set out to find Kieran.
I took my time going down the trail. The wind blowing through the leaves sounded like the rustling of paper. Birds called to each other in the trees, out of sight from me. I heard the river before I saw it, and then I saw Kieran standing by the bank with his hands tucked in his pockets. He was still as a statue, like the river had put a spell on him. Then, as though my approach had broken it, he turned and looked at me.
His smile was blinding and I nearly stumbled. My heart did cartwheels in my chest and I found myself smiling back at him.
“God, you look good like that,” Kieran said when I went to him and wrapped my arms around his middle.
“Like what?”
“Happy.” Kieran ghosted a kiss against my lips. “You look like it went well.”
“It wasn’t horrible.”
Kieran never asked what I talked about in therapy, but I knew if I wanted to tell him that he’d listen.
Kieran draped his arm over my shoulder and slowly steered me in the direction of the falls.
“I got a call while you were busy,” Kieran told me a few minutes later. “It’s good news, but you don’t have to say yes if you don’t want to.”
Anticipation made my spine tingle and I sucked in a breath to try and steady my rapid pulse. “Okay… what’s the news?”
“Part of what my mom does is help people rebuild their lives. It’s more than just giving them a safe place to get back on their feet. She’s really put the work in, fostering connections in the community. Getting resources for people who need them is kind of her thing. And she’s found you a job, if you want it.”
I stopped dead in my tracks. “A job?”
Kieran’s smile was wide and I could tell from the happy gleam in his eyes that he thought it was a wonderful bit of news he was about to relay. “It’s not glamorous or anything.”
“I don’t care,” I said, my excitement mounting .
“Have you ever been to the recreation center in town?”
When I shook my head, Kieran smiled again. “It’s not much. A pool, some conference rooms people can rent, and a small art gallery. The rec center hosts a bunch of programs during the week for kids, teens, and adults. Basically, they need someone to help clean up after the programs and get set for the next one.”
“And I get to do that?” I was unable to breathe for a second. Kieran waited until I collected myself, his already bright smile beaming even more.
“The pay isn’t great.” Kieran’s smile did falter at that, but I shook my head.
“I’d work for peanuts.”
“I thought you might say that.”
“I really… they want me?” My heart thrashed around in my ribs.
Kieran pulled me into his arms, against his chest. He anchored me to him the way he always did when he sensed that I needed it.
“Do they know…”
Kieran shook his head. “It’s not anything that would show up on a criminal record check. So what you tell them is up to you.”
“The truth,” I told Kieran. Even good things were hard to cope with sometimes, and I found myself clinging to him like the world was going to spin so fast that I would fly off the surface if I didn’t hold on tight.
“Are you okay?”
The laugh that came out was watery and thick. “I—can I get back to you on that?”
I sniffled and buried my face against his chest. Kieran tightened his arms around me and we stood there, on a hiking trail in the middle of nowhere, for I don’t know how long while he waited for me to gather myself .
When I felt steady again, I pulled back and looked up at him. “I have trouble accepting that I’m allowed to have good things. Those are my therapist’s words, so sometimes when good things happen to me, it freaks me out and I enter a cycle of self-sabotage.”
Kieran brushed my hair off my forehead. “That sounds hard. I’m sorry people made you feel like you weren’t worth good things.”
“How do you always know the exact right thing to say?” I asked.
Kieran shrugged, then ducked down for a kiss. His fingers hooked under my chin and he tilted my head back. Slanting his mouth over mine, he took the lead. I wanted nothing more than to let him take care of me in this moment and so many others.
At the lowest point of my life, Kieran had met me. He’d seen me bruised and battered, beaten literally and figuratively. A shell of a person at the end of their rope. And he’d hated me. So him liking me, loving me, it felt like the biggest win in the history of love stories.
“I have a gift for you,” Kieran said, his fingertips still pressing gently against my chin.
“Is it indecent?”
He laughed.
“Can it be indecent?” I slid my hands lower, grabbing his ass. I fucking loved everything about him, but he had a great ass. Thick and firm. Biteable.
“It’s not indecent. It’s also back at the cabin. I was going to wait to give it to you, but maybe you’d rather have it now.”
“Now,” I agreed, setting off in the direction of the cabin, towing Kieran with me by his hand. “Now is good.”
He laughed and followed me, lacing our fingers together. When we reached the cabin, he unlocked the door and I glanced around trying to guess where he’d stashed it and what it was .
Kieran opened his suitcase and dug around underneath the lounge pants he’d packed but hadn’t worn. I’d wondered why he’d packed those.
When I realized what he’d bought, my hand shook and my knees threatened to buckle. Kieran carried the leather-bound sketchbook to me. From underneath, he produced a new set of pencils. The same ones I’d given Michael.
I couldn’t breathe or speak when Kieran handed me the sketchbook. I ran my fingers over the embossed leather. It was too nice. Too fancy. Too beautiful for someone like me. I didn’t deserve it.
“You needed a new one, and I wanted to give you something that would remind you what you’re worth.”
Sorrow fled my lungs when I exhaled, easing my burden. Not much, but enough that I could see the gift for what it was. A tangible token of Kieran’s affection for me. Something I could touch, taste, smell, when or if I doubted his feelings. No one who didn’t love someone bought them something as beautiful as this.
“It’s the best thing I’ve ever been given.”
“Will you draw something for me?” Kieran asked.
Speech was beyond me. I’d draw anything for him. Everything. I’d draw the universe so I could give it to him. So he could fold it up and keep it in his pocket and know that he had someone who wanted to give him everything.
“Yeah,” I finally croaked out. “I’ll draw something for you.”
“Good.” Kieran plucked the book from my fingers and set it aside. “Later, though. I have another gift.”
He swept me close and ground against me. “This one’s indecent, though.”
Laughing, I threw my arms around him. Kissed him. Laughed again. Lighter and more free than I’d felt in years. “My favorite kind.”