Chapter 16 The Present
THE PRESENT
AMELIA
“Are you coming, or are you just going to lie out here in the dark?” Caiden’s voice cut through the air. He stood in the threshold, one hand braced against the chipped doorframe, his posture rigid.
I hugged my arms across my chest, feeling the last warmth drain away. “Sleeping out here in the dark is more appealing than staying in that room with you.”
He sighed, the slam of the door echoed. Anger coiled in my gut, a thing demanding release. But I bit back the eruption, squared my shoulders, and tapped once on the scuffed wood.
When the door finally creaked open, Caiden’s dark eyes met mine. They looked like cold embers in a spent fire.
I forced a polite tilt of my head. “Thank you.” I stepped inside.
The room was cramped and bare: a single, rumpled bed centered against a peeling wallpaper wall; a small nightstand with a flickering lamp; a boxy television perched on a cheap dresser; and a tiny door leading to an equally small bathroom.
Just the barest bones of a place to crash.
Still, I didn’t feel saved. The place felt more like a trap. Four walls closing in on me, a cell where I’d be forced to breathe the same anxious air as Caiden all night.
We avoided each other’s eyes as we took turns in the bathroom, our feet padding over the thin blue carpet, water dripping from the faucet like a metronome. We might have been older now, but defensiveness made us dance around each other like frightened children.
I cleared my throat and decided to shatter the silence. “So, which one of us is going to sleep on the floor?”
He leaned against the dresser, arms crossed. “What makes you think I’d do that?” His tone was teasing, dangerous.
“There’s no chance I’m sharing that bed with you. I’m the lady, remember? I deserve the mattress.”
Caiden’s scoff was short and harsh. “Maybe if you acted like one. Sleep on the damn floor then.” He dropped onto the edge of the bed, flexing his fingers as though that small victory fueled him.
My anger flared hotter. Flames licking at my chest, screaming into my blood.
“Seriously? You’re such—” I managed before he snapped back.
“Ungrateful bitch,” he spat, springing to his feet. “I risked my neck to get you away from that dirtbag. Forgive me for not rolling out a red carpet after you bitched me out.” His eyes glowed with accusing fire.
Exhaustion blunted my retort. I turned on my heel and yanked open the little closet cabinets. No extra blankets, just the thin bedspread and two lumpy pillows.
I grabbed one, pounded it flat, and dropped it onto the carpet. My back already throbbed at the thought of sleeping on the floor, but I forced myself to appear indifferent, even as a hurt ache settled behind my ribs.
The girl I’d once been wanted softness, wanted safety in someone’s arms. I shut my eyes, willing down the sting of unshed tears.
The lamp clicked off. Darkness pooled around me. I lay on the thin pillow, listening to Caiden’s breathing. Steady, untouchable.
The rough carpet pressed cold against my shoulder blade.
I turned over once, twice, searching for comfort that refused to come. Finally I sat up and peered at the bed, studying his still form. My eyelids felt heavy, my muscles screaming for rest.
Quiet as a shadow, I slid across the floor and eased myself onto the mattress, inching as far from him as possible. When the springs groaned under my weight, I froze.
Caiden shifted, a low grunt escaping him, but he didn’t wake fully.
My body sighed as it sank into the soft indifference of the bed. Relief washed over me, and sleep pulled me under before I remembered where I was, or who lay beside me.
Sunlight spilled through the blinds, strips of gold striking my face. I stretched, blissfully unaware, until warmth, unexpected and startling, bloomed against my side.
My heart jolted awake, muscles tensing in panic. I snapped my eyes open and froze. His arm was draped across the mattress, fingertips brushing mine, his skin hot against my temple.
“Oh my god!” The shriek tore from me as I bolted upright. Caiden shot up too, blinking in confusion.
My cheeks burned as I scrambled to yank my T-shirt down, tug my pajama shorts into place. The room felt smaller, the air too thick. I pressed my back to the wall, staring at him in horrified silence.
He cleared his throat, voice low: “Didn’t we agree to sleep separately?”
“Yeah.” My voice came out tight and breathless. “But the floor was killing my back, so I fell asleep. Let’s just forget it happened.”
“I’m not planning on reminding you,” he said, eyes still avoiding mine.
I didn’t wait for more. I ducked into the bathroom, the door clicking softly behind me, and leaned against the cold tile, letting the chill chase the heat from my skin.
I splashed water onto my face, watching droplets pebble my skin in the warped mirror. My reflection looked nothing like the girl I remembered. Too pale, shadows bruising the hollows beneath my eyes, hair wild around my head like a warning. My hands shook.
I gripped the edge of the sink until my knuckles blanched, willing the tremors to recede.
It was a mistake to come here. Seven years of distance, and I still couldn’t bear the sight of him. My stomach twisted as I thought of the night before, the warmth of his arm, the way my own traitorous body had sunk into the hollow he made.
I dried my face with a scratchy towel and cracked the door. Caiden was up, already dressed, his back to me as he packed his bag. His movements were stiff, every muscle wound tight beneath the faded Army T-shirt. He looked like he was preparing for a battle, not a car ride.
Neither of us spoke. We’d perfected the art of silence.
My clothes were folded in a pile at the foot of the bed. I scooped them up and retreated to the bathroom, changing quickly, wishing for armor. My hands lingered on the zipper, hesitant to return to that room, to share air with him again.
When I emerged, he was standing by the window, peering through the bent blinds at the parking lot. His posture was tense, jaw set, eyes narrowed at nothing in particular, like he could will the rest of the world into combusting if he only stared hard enough.
He didn’t acknowledge me, but I caught the way his jaw flexed when I set my bag on the bed.
I wanted him to say something, to break the spell, to ignite the fight I knew was waiting for us on the tip of every word.
Instead, he spun away from the window and slung his duffel over his shoulder, exhaling like he’d just finished a set at the gym.
“Ready?” he muttered, not quite a question.
I bristled. “Yeah.”
He brushed past me with the same chill he always carried. His shoulder clipped mine, a jolt of real contact that left me shivering.
Outside, the morning was cold, the sky smeared with cloud, the parking lot empty except for our car and a station wagon that looked abandoned.
I saw Sabrina jog-walking in place, arms pumping, her hair a halo of fizz in the damp. Shane stood next to her, hands in the pockets of his hoodie. He flashed us a grin, like the world wasn’t caving in.
When they saw us approach, Sabrina hopped down and called, “Sleep well, lovebirds?” Her smile was wide, guileless, she meant nothing by it.
But I felt Caiden’s stride falter just a fraction, and my cheeks flamed.
“Like rocks,” I deadpanned, keeping my eyes on the patchy grass underfoot.
Sabrina grinned, but beneath her surface cheer, I noticed the quick dart of her eyes between Caiden and me.
“So? Anything happen?” Sabrina inquired while the men were chatting.
I shook my head and rolled my eyes. “Nope. Nothing at all.”
She huffed with disappointment. “Damn. Maybe next time.”
They decided that Caiden would drive this time, while Sabrina and I continued sitting in the back.
The drive was slow and long. I caught Caiden’s gaze multiple times in the rearview mirror. Neither of us would hold the stare for long. My mind was a whirling hurricane, showing no signs of slowing down.
The outside world passed in a haze; I became lost in memories that I had buried deep in my mind over the years. The longer Caiden was around, the more erratic my mind became.
I was a caged lioness, pacing and pacing, waiting and waiting.
My anger needed to explode and attack, yet I felt the need to run and hide.
I glanced at Sabrina. She was completely unaware. I wondered how much longer I could keep this storm inside. How much longer could I fake politeness?
It still felt like a fever dream or a terrible nightmare. Caiden was here, coincidentally the half-brother of my best friend’s fiancé. I never expected to see him again.
Vague memories of the last time our paths crossed flitted through my mind, just after graduation, before I left this place and never looked back.
It was around that time I had reached a boiling point with my mother, a day that still haunted me, echoing with the sickly expression on her face.
In the end, she had become a stranger I once knew.
The walls that I had once called home were now unfamiliar, drenched in an atmosphere thick with blood and tears. Lillian's room sat empty and cold, a grave reminder of what had been lost. Day by day, my mother fell deeper into despair.
My graduation day had come and gone, and with each passing moment, a persistent knot in my gut urged me to leave this devastating town behind.
“Amelia, I need to borrow some cash,” my mother’s voice broke through the suffocating silence. Though I relished the quiet moments, they never lasted long.
“Why?” I asked, though I already knew the answer.
“Don’t question me. When I need something, you should do it without hesitation! After all I’ve done for you, you should be more giving to me.” She screamed and thrashed her arms like a wild beast.
I let out a hollow laugh, devoid of humor. “Really? Are you kidding me? What have you done for me?”
I recognized her fragility in that moment, but it mattered little. Her hands trembled as she scratched at her skin, her eyes darting everywhere. Unfocused, unwell.