Henry quietly hangs his backpack on its hook by the door and turns to me. “I need to change. It’s project night.”
I sit on the stairs and reach out my arms for him. He hesitates before taking a seat on my knee. “Sweetie, Caleb had to go out of town. He’s not going to be able to come home tonight, but maybe we can go get ice cream instead.”
He stares at me, unblinking. “I don’t want ice cream. I want to work on the arm with Caleb.”
It’s as if he’s wrapped his little hand around my heart and given it a hard squeeze.
“He wanted to work on the arm with you too. But a really important thing came up and he’s going to be gone a lot. Maybe I can help you.” I try to pull him close, but he’s stiff in my lap, unwilling to hear me, unwilling to accept this outcome.
“You’re not good at building,” he says.
“If I can’t figure it out, Molly will help us. She’s good at everything.”
His shoulders sag. Caleb has brought so much into his life these past months. But as the light fades from Henry’s eyes, I’m forced to ask if it was worth it.
I wanted Caleb for my own. I wanted to save him from himself.
But I should have avoided bringing my kids into it…and Jeremy makes it clear he agrees.
“You invited Caleb to Henry’s show?” Jeremy screams on the phone that night. “Do you have any idea how bad this makes you look?”
I could point out that I wasn’t the one who invited him, but I’m not sure that will help the situation. “Are you through?”
“You’ve barely been on your own and you’re already throwing yourself at someone else,” he says. “And if you think I was a disappointment as a father, just wait until you’re depending on someone who isn’t even related to them.”
Ah, there it is. He’s finally managed to say something that hits a little close to the bone. I knew he’d get there eventually. Because that’s the crux of it, right? Jeremy owes the twins something, whether he wants to or not. But Caleb doesn’t owe them a thing. He can simply walk away as if we never existed, and that seems to be what he intends to do. He hasn’t brought up what happens after he leaves even once.
CALEB’S IN INDIA, then Peru, pulling together contracts with support-staff temp firms so that he can prove TSG is ready to expand. I start to lose track of the cities he’s in or the reason he’s gone to any of them. We’ve barely spoken since he left, but every time we do, there’s almost always someone in the background, someone urging him to get off the phone, to get in the car, to go somewhere else. I hate how exhausted he sounds all the time. I also hate feeling like an afterthought.
Work is going well—the walking program was so successful that we’re starting another one, and there’s an upcoming TSG Shark Tank event where employees can pitch ideas that everyone’s excited about. I even get a call from a recruiter.
But when I get home at night with the twins and Caleb’s house looms dark and lonely behind us, I have to ask myself what it will be like when he’s gone for good. How often could we possibly see him after the merger happens? I won’t be able to jaunt off to New York, but if Kate finishes rehab and wants him back…she can.
He returns on a Tuesday, a week and a day after he left. I get little done at work but manage to check the progress of his flight approximately a hundred times over the course of the morning.
He texts when he’s on his way to the office.
CALEB
Almost there. Please have that report ready for me when I arrive.
Where should I leave it?
On my desk.
There is no report. I’m grinning like such a fool I’m embarrassed for myself. I walk into his office and shut the door behind me.
“Lock it,” he says. The predatory look in his eyes is all the foreplay I need.
I do as he asks, then lean back against the door. “We need to be quick or Kayleigh’s going to know.”
“Not trying to brag, but I don’t think quick will be a problem,” he replies, stalking toward me.
I meet him in the middle of the room, my hands on the lapels of his jacket. His mouth lands on mine. “I want this too much,” he groans, swallowing as I tug on his belt. “I should—”
I slip a hand inside his waistband.
“Fuck,” he growls. “Get on the floor.”
I drop to my hands and knees. A zipper slides open and then he’s behind me, pushing my skirt up and my thong aside, fingers slipping over me and then inside me. He thrusts in abruptly, without warning, and I bite my lip not to make any noise.