34 Cate #2
There’s so much to unpack, but he’s been silently suffering, making the injury worse because he believes he’s replaceable.
I hug him. I don’t know how to fix this, but I do recognize that he’s trusted me.
Over his cousins and managing team, he told me.
I hold him tighter. “You have me. We’ll get it looked at, and we don’t need to tell anyone.
” When he lifts my chin and our eyes connect, I’m glad he can’t tell my tears from the water raining down on us.
He doesn’t need to worry about me. I’ll be there however he needs.
“Tonight, though, let’s get some rest. I’ll make some calls after the holiday weekend. ”
“I’d have a big garden with flowers overflowing the beds in the front and back of the house. Fruit trees to pick our own lemons and limes, oranges, and figs. Avocados, of course.”
Standing at the edge of the pool, looking over the property, he turns back and smiles.
“Of course.” His mood has shifted this morning.
A spark resides in his eyes as if a weight has been lifted.
I’m glad he’s allowing me to take on some of his burdens.
That’s what partners do. Though the sex this morning could have played a part in improving his mood as well. It was amazing.
“Lots of vegetables in raised beds.” His beautiful backyard has a stunning view, but there’s not much space to do what I’d like to accomplish with my home. I sip my coffee, knowing I’m getting ahead of myself. “And lots of kittens.”
“Kittens turn into cats.”
“That’s why I want them. I could never have a pet growing up. We moved around too much.”
He returns to sit in the chair next to me. “Why is that?”
I shrug, something I generally do when people ask about my parents. It usually works to distract them, but he’s still staring at me like he’s genuinely interested. “Why did we move so much?” I repeat, giving myself time to determine whether I want to talk about this.
“Yeah, you never talk about them. All I know is you moved to La Jolla to live with your grandmother.”
“I was close to her. She had a lot of health problems that she didn’t take care of and passed away before she saw me graduate.
That was hard because she encouraged me to go to college and inspired me to go into gerontology.
If she would have had the support of a nurse or doctor, I know she would have lived longer. ”
His attention doesn’t divert from me even when a bird starts singing from the roofline above us. “She’d be proud of you. I am.”
“You are?” My heart clenches. Swoons. I’m tripping over myself in love with this man, determined to protect what we have at all costs.
“Absolutely. You’re incredible and giving. You care about others and save lives.”
I reach over and cover his hand resting on the table.
“I appreciate that, but you do the same in a different way. You may not realize it, but you do. You make people happy by creating music that touches hearts and helps people through hard times. Your songs are played at weddings and baby showers. Music is universal. It’s an art form for a reason. It evokes emotion.”
He covers my hand with his other. “I love you, Cat. It means a lot when people relate to the music, but I want to tell you something. It doesn’t always have to be even, fair, or tit for tat.
It’s okay for you to shine your brightest without me needing the spotlight.
You don’t need to take the credit away from you by giving it to someone else.
You’re amazing. That’s a full sentence. Full stop. ”
Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. A tear slips free despite my objections. I tip my head and wipe it away. His words are healing, a balm I didn’t know I needed.
He trusted me with his secret. I can trust him, not only with my heart but with the past that shaped who I am.
“My dad walked out of my life when I was nine and never looked back. It’s like I never existed. Last I heard, he had a new family—two daughters and the son he always wanted—with a woman out in Yuma, Arizona. It’s been a few years, though, so I don’t know if they’re still there.”
The sympathy clouding his eyes is the last thing I wanted. “This is why I don’t like talking about my parents.” I attempt to pull my hand back, but he doesn’t let me. “It makes others feel bad for me, and I feel worse.”
“It wasn’t you, babe.”
“What wasn’t?”
“He left because he’s an asshole. You don’t need to keep dragging his weight around like it’s yours to carry. That’s on him. He’s an asshole, but someone else’s problem.”
“I understand I’m not to blame. I was nine, though.
That doesn’t change the hurt I carry. He walked away because I didn’t matter.
” I hate the shame that rushes my veins.
Logic doesn’t lessen the pain. “I wouldn’t make a sound when he was home to avoid his temper.
I had to be perfect because I understood the consequences. ”
I take a breath to prevent the mix of anger and frustration from rearing their ugly heads.
It doesn’t help. I say, “I’m not carrying that pain around because I want to, but it’s instilled and embedded into who I am.
So I don’t talk about it. I don’t think about him or his family in Yuma, my half-siblings.
I think about my grandmother who loved .
. .” I choke on the grief as it comes rushing back.
Struggling to swallow, I lower my head, needing out of his concerned gaze.
The feet of his chair grind against the concrete as he slides it back from the table. He wraps around me from behind, resting his head in the crook of my neck. “He fucking missed out on someone extraordinary. His loss.”
My throat loosens, and a breath finally enters my lungs. No reasoning ever helped heal the pain. It never did, but Shane does. I kiss the arm he’s tucked under my chin and then turn to look up at him. “Thank you.”
His nod is enough as he comes to sit down again, staying on the end of the seat and still holding my hand.
Might as well get it all off my chest. “My mom got a job modeling in Paris when I was seventeen. She lied about having a kid and said she was twenty-five. She could pull it off since she had me at sixteen and looked young for her age.”
“How long did that last?”
“Until she met a rich man to marry. They live in Bordeaux. I’ve never been because I’ve never been invited. I’m the dirty secret she carried into her marriage.”
“Shit, Cat. Fucking awful. You don’t talk to her?”
“I get a birthday card some years, if she remembers. She somehow managed to take credit for my hard work in college, saying I got my brains and looks from her. No money. No present. She has millions in the bank and lives the life of luxury in France. I struggled to pay my tuition. My grandmother paid for my room and board. So yeah. That’s what you’re getting into with me. ”
“Sometimes people can have it all but don’t realize until they lose it.
” Kissing my hand, he says, “I’m not afraid of your past or fears.
I can handle orderly, neat, and predictable because I know where that need now comes from.
” He brings me to my feet and into his arms. “I can handle you. It’s a privilege, and we can handle anything as long as we’re together. ”
I love you doesn’t seem enough for how Shane makes me feel. Safe, for the first time in my life.
And then my leg vibrates. We look between us. I’m already holding my breath while he digs the phone from his pocket. A grin springs to his cheeks as soon as he sees the screen.
Holding it up for me, he says, “It’s Mr. Waldrip.”
“Who’s Mr.—Oh my God! Our government teacher? How in the world.” I bounce, gripping his arm. “Answer it. Answer it.”
“Hello? Yeah, this is Shane.” He plugs his other ear and walks inside the house. “Thanks for calling me back . . .”
When Shane says he has his ways, I’ll never doubt him again. The man worked miracles in a matter of hours and helped heal a part of me just by being here for me. I love you is definitely not enough for how I feel about him. He’s amazing. Full stop.