Chapter Twenty-Six
Failure Repeated
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"This is it, Cal," Jake said enthusiastically, carelessly stuffing a few shirts into his oversized duffel bag. He would swear his fingers were shaking with pure excitement, pure adrenaline. "This is the one; I know it!"

From her tense perch on the bed, Calleigh gave a soft sigh. She had been through this same conversation, this same scenario, way too many times. And each time, it only became more and more tiring. Calleigh knew she should close herself off from it and simply go through the motions, but she just couldn't seem to detach herself fully. She couldn't distance herself from all the emotion.

It had been only minutes before that Jake had gotten the call. A late afternoon storm was battering the world outside, and the two of them had simply relaxed themselves on the bed, simply listening to the thunder and the rain, much as they often did during a storm. But this time was different. Instead of sharing the center of the bed, Calleigh had occupied one side, and Jake the other. Instead of Calleigh snuggling deep into Jake's embrace, she kept her distance, her eyes locked on the ceiling above.

It was becoming harder and harder to ignore the fact that this was turning into their usual routine. There was a distance growing ever wider between them, and Calleigh was afraid that it was growing so wide and so quickly that nothing could ever bridge that gap again.

Calleigh had tried. She didn't want to lose Jake, but she couldn't do everything herself. It was physically exhausting, not to mention what it did to her emotionally. She didn't want to lose him, but at this point, he was too far gone for her to get him back.

He wasn't in a relationship with her anymore. He was in a relationship with his work. If Calleigh'd had any doubt of that fact, it would've been confirmed just moments ago, when Jake had answered the phone. He'd jumped up from the bed, a definite spring in his step. The phone call had sparked something within him; something that hadn't been there when he'd laid down with Calleigh. And now, there was the excitement with which he spoke, while Calleigh sat stiffly on the bed behind him, wishing just once more that she could find the man that she'd cared for so deeply.

Mere steps away, Jake was oblivious. "We've finally got enough information out of these guys. Now we just have to get in there and hope everything else goes right. If it does, then we can finally bust 'em! I've been waiting for this one…"

Absently, Calleigh plucked at a stray string on the bedspread. "How long do you think you'll be gone this time?" she asked, half of her not wanting to know this answer. But the other half of her knew that if she didn't know, she would drive herself crazy with the what-ifs of the situation.

Jake never even looked up. His voice remained excited as his attention remained on his packing. "I don't know, Cal. A few weeks, maybe? Everything has to be perfect before we can really move in on these guys."

Despite the fact that Jake was still being forced into his undercover work, even he was not immune to the thrill that came with being so close. So close to finishing a case, so close to seeing all of his work come to an apex. At that point, Jake couldn't help but fall victim to the adrenaline rush. He couldn't help truly stepping into the movie, the movie in which he was the protagonist; he was the hero. Failure was not an option, not for him. Never for him.

After all, failure could mean losing the woman behind him. For every assignment that he took, he was screwed if everything didn't work out perfectly. If he refused the assignment, Calleigh could be in danger, thanks to his moment of weakness in the interrogation room not so long ago. If he failed an assignment, it would probably be failure by death. These assignments had stopped being safe a long time ago for Jake. He'd had his fair share of guns to his head and knives wielded in his direction. But instead of scaring him, it only made his drive for success that much stronger. He only had to think about what his death might do to Calleigh, and that was enough to keep him believing that failure was never an option.

It wasn't an option he could live with, nor was it an option he would force Calleigh to deal with.

Failure, however, doesn't limit itself to job performance. On the bed, Calleigh bit her lip, trying her best to ignore the stinging sensation that began to prick at the corners of her eyes. If there was anything she'd learned in the three years she'd spent with him, it was that crying never made a difference. It only made her feel weak and undeserving, just as it had when she was a child. Swallowing the rapidly forming lump in her throat, Calleigh dropped her gaze to the floor, for it was far less painful to concentrate on than Jake's packing. "But what about us, Jake?" she asked softly, afraid to lift her eyes to him, for fear that her heart would shatter completely.

Jake was puzzled, but didn't falter in his packing. "Us?"

Calleigh frowned. His simple, one word reply had been more painful than she'd been prepared for. "You and me, Jake." And finally Jake paused, turning to face Calleigh. The blank expression, however, remained on his face, and Calleigh shook her head, biting her lip. How much of a reminder did the man need? No, there was a better question - how much of a reminder should she even be forced to give him? "This week was supposed to be about us," she pressed once more, her emerald eyes staring intently into his deep brown ones, still seeing absolutely no comprehension. And there was where her heart fell to pieces. He didn't remember. Shaking her head, Calleigh hopped up from the bed, swiftly making her way out of the bedroom. "Just forget it."

Jake stood, confusion rapidly settling over him. What was Calleigh talking about?

And suddenly, it hit him. This week was supposed to be about nothing but them, nothing but their relationship, or what was left of it. Both of them had scooped into their supply of vacation days, just so they could spend one quiet week together. Their relationship had been on rocky footing for a couple of months now, and this week, they were supposed to try and fix it.

Calleigh had only wanted a few hours of uninterrupted attention from him so they could talk. But Jake had insisted on taking her away. Somewhere warm, relaxing, and most of all, private. He knew that their relationship was hanging by a thread, and so he'd made the reservations. They were supposed to spend this week together, with nobody else, on a small, quaint Caribbean island. No cell phones, no outside contact, no distractions other than each other…it was the vacation that they both needed. It was the chance to show Calleigh what she really, truly meant to him. They both needed this; to get away from work and their everyday lives, for the sake of saving their relationship.

But now, not only was Jake leaving for an assignment, but he had forgotten about this week completely. Forgetting about his packing, he followed Calleigh to the den, quickly trying to find a way to rectify this. Alas, there was nothing that came to him. This time, he had screwed up dearly.

And this time, as his gut feeling told him, dearly would he pay.

As Calleigh finally stopped, Jake cringed, as even from behind he could discern the stiffness of her body. There was no relaxation in any part of her. He knew she was primed and ready for that fight-or-flight instinct to take over. And with Calleigh, Jake knew it would probably be a combination of both.

Gingerly he reached out, gently brushing his fingertips over her elbow. "Calleigh, baby, I'm so sorry," he murmured.

She jerked away from him, almost as though burned by his touch. "I said forget about it. That should come easily to you," she all but growled, refusing to look at him.

Her reaction stunned him, even though he probably should've expected it. "Calleigh –"

"Look, you don't have to apologize," Calleigh interrupted. Empty apologies she could do without. Jake's apologies never meant anything; a week after apologizing, he was always right back to doing the very thing he'd apologized for in the first place. "It's not like I'm not used to you forgetting things."

Jake blinked. If he hadn't been thoroughly confused before, he was now. "Cal, this is the only thing I've forgotten," he protested. Still, he couldn't help wracking his brain, trying to find anything else he might've forgotten. He found nothing.

"One thing, right," Calleigh scoffed. "What about last month, huh? Do you remember that?"

He searched deeper into the depths of his mind, but it was all to no avail. "Calleigh, I –"

"Our anniversary, Jake!" Calleigh cried, the anger in her eyes finding itself pushed away by heartbreak. "I wasn't going to make a big deal about it, because I never know when you're going to be called away. I would've been happy to let it go with a small dinner, maybe a tiny celebration. But you insisted. You told me you would be here, that you wouldn't miss it for the world." Calleigh rubbed furiously at her eyes, feeling the telltale sting of tears. "And for some reason, I guess I believed you."

Jake hung his head. He'd forgotten about their anniversary completely. And he'd been so excited about it. True, Calleigh hadn't wanted to make a big deal out of it, but Jake had. Three months before that date, he'd found his way into a jewelry store. At first, he'd merely been killing time. But then he'd found it – a piece that just seemed so perfect for Calleigh. It was a simple but elegant diamond necklace, and as soon as he'd seen it, he knew it belonged around Calleigh's neck. He could imagine just how beautiful she would look wearing it.

And so he'd bought it, planning to surprise her with it the night of their anniversary.

But instead, it still resided in the box in which it had come. It was still hidden, where Calleigh wouldn't inadvertently find it, but also where, apparently, Jake simply forgot about it. He knew it was really no excuse, but the few weeks leading up to their anniversary had been stressful on him. He'd had to leave on assignment, leaving Calleigh in the middle of the night. And even though he'd promised, he never made it home in time for their anniversary.

Taking a step toward her, Jake was dying to reach out to her, but he knew that would only make the situation worse at this point. "Calleigh –"

"I'm not finished, Jake." Calleigh clenched her fists, desperately trying to stop the shaking of her fingers. She'd had enough of this. Since she had begun dating Jake, she'd lost several weeks of sleep; she'd lost far too much weight. She'd lost so much of her sanity that it was a miracle she could even begin to hold everything together. She was tired of falling apart. She didn't want to lose Jake, but the relationship was just far too destructive on her. "You forgot our anniversary. You finally came home three weeks after our anniversary, and you never even said a word about it. I did so much to try and make that night special, because you made it sound like it meant something to you. And now, the one week we've both set aside to try and fix things…you forgot about that too." She paused, turning finally to face Jake. The anger in her eyes was unavoidable. "What happened to what you told me months ago, huh? You told me you were done, remember? Or did you forget that too?"

Jake couldn't help feeling his own anger surge within him. Even though Calleigh's accusations were true, and she had the right to feel that way, Jake still couldn't help feeling defensive of every move he'd made. "Walking away isn't that easy, Cal," he snapped, crossing his arms defensively. "It takes time."

"Six months?" Calleigh yelled, incredulous. "Look, Jake, if you were lying to me, then why don't you just come clean? Or, why don't you answer this one? Do you even want to be with me at all?"

Jake gaped. "Calleigh, of course I want to be with you! Why do you think I'm with you right now?"

"Oh, so you want to be with me, but only when you can't be out on the streets, pretending to be somebody else?"

Her words stunned him, but what could he do? Jake couldn't tell her the truth; he couldn't tell her that being away from her was the last place he wanted to be…ever. "That's low, Calleigh," he said quietly, wishing he could convey with his eyes what he truly wanted to say to her.

"Is it?" Calleigh challenged. "But it's true though, isn't it? You're content to be with me only until some new assignment comes up. I've seen the way you react to those assignments, and it's not at all like the way you act around me. Why don't you go ahead and make your decision already? That way you can spend all your time working, and I won't be wondering why you're never home."

"That's not fair, Calleigh," Jake protested. "What would you do if I asked you to choose between me and your career?" Calleigh was silent, obviously thinking. But Jake really didn't want to know the answer, so he pushed forward. "You know how hard I've worked to come this far, both with my job, and with you. I've made major sacrifices for both you and my job. Sometimes that's what we have to do in life to be happy – make sacrifices."

Calleigh shook her head. "Do you think I'm happy?" she cried, staring Jake directly in the eyes. "I've made sacrifices, and all it seems to do is make things worse. Well, you know what, Jake? I'm tired of making worthless sacrifices. I've never asked you to choose before; all I ever wanted was for you to care about me more than that damn job of yours!"

Her words pierced him right through the heart. All Jake wanted to do was rush forward and gather her into his arms and tell her the whole truth, but that wasn't something he could risk. And he knew Calleigh wasn't going to believe any more half-truths. She wouldn't believe that he cared so deeply for her if he made no effort to distance himself from the job. And that wasn't something he could do, not now.

If only he'd gotten out before digging too deep a hole. If only he'd gotten away before the issue with Sam.

Jake could've been a free man. He could've moved forward in his life with Calleigh, without the threat of having their relationship used against him. There was no other feeling for this – Jake completely hated doing this to Calleigh, to them. She deserved better than this.

But what else could he give her? Jake had practically given up his freedom for her. He couldn't transfer out, and he couldn't refuse or defer assignments to somebody else. Whenever he tried, he was greeted by a brand new picture of Calleigh, suggesting that she was always being followed. And that bothered Jake deeply enough, but hearing over and over what his corrupted UC superiors could do to Calleigh, or how they could sabotage her career in order to coerce him into taking the assignment was far too much. He didn't want to imagine it; he would rather die than play a part in Calleigh's own demise; her own failure. Jake had already failed; why should Calleigh have to pay for it? Why should Calleigh have anything to do with this at all?

Too late he realized that he hadn't refuted Calleigh's claim when he should've. Calleigh bit her lip, shaking her head. "You know what?" she began, and Jake felt his heart clench as her eyes became glassy, reddened. "Fine. If you won't choose, then I have to." Her vision blurring, Calleigh dropped her gaze, unable to make herself meet his eyes any longer.

Jake's mouth was dry as the implications of that statement began to set in. "What do you mean, you have to choose?" he asked hoarsely, afraid of the answer.

Calleigh gave a low, bitter laugh. "What else could it possibly mean, Jake?" As she'd expected, he didn't answer. Calleigh sighed; she was tired of having to spell everything out for him. "I've got a life and a career too, Jake," she said quietly, wringing her hands lightly. "I'm not going to throw them away for someone who won't even be here for me." The words sounded selfish to her own ears, but Calleigh couldn't bring herself to care about that. She was tired of everything being about Jake. She was fifty percent of this relationship; why shouldn't she have a say in what happens?

Jake was floored. Floored, and absolutely frightened. Could she really mean what he thought she meant? "Calleigh, I don't –"

"I'm done, Jake. Do you get it now? I'm done with this." They were the hardest words she'd ever had to say, each one ripping at her heart. "I can't take this anymore. I don't even know why I bothered to stay this long; we fell apart a long time ago, Jake."

She started to walk away, but Jake reached out, gently touching her elbow. "Calleigh, wait. Please," he all but begged. His heart was being pulled to shreds within his chest, but he honestly didn't know what to do. He just knew that he did not want her to walk away from him. Jake wasn't sure if he could handle that. "We can fix this, beautiful. This assignment shouldn't take long; I'm this close to securing the indictments I need. It shouldn't be long at all before I'm home this time."

But Calleigh had made up her mind. Despite the tears that pricked her eyes, she refused to give in. She was done. "Good, then," she said coldly. It was the only way she could keep her tears from showing in her voice. "Just don't expect me to be here waiting for you when you get back."

..

Storm clouds were beginning to gather overhead, but Jake didn't care. At the moment, he didn't care about anything, not even the amount of high-priced gasoline that he was wasting just by driving around the city. Even though he knew it was dangerous, he also couldn't seem to put his entire attention toward the task of driving. And a difficult task it was; he'd driven these streets numerous times, and he knew them like the back of his hand, but with every mile that took him farther and farther away from Calleigh, Jake could feel his heart clench just a little tighter. If walking away from her had nearly killed him, then driving away from her might as well have finished the job. Barely alive he felt; numb, except when it came to guilt. And that he certainly felt plenty of.

With a vengeance, his hands gripped the wheel, finding himself unable to loosen his grasp. He was frustrated, and that was the only way his body knew to deal with that frustration. His life was currently in shambles; he'd lost the one thing that had always been most important to him.

Now, the only thing he had left to lose was his own life, however morbid the idea seemed.

And I may just end up losing that too.

A bitter laugh escaped him. Even when he tried to do the right thing, he still managed to screw everything up. And Calleigh still didn't know the entire truth. Now, he would probably never get the chance to tell her everything. Even if he did get that chance, there was a very low likelihood that she would listen; let alone believe what he had to say.

In his mind, he could still see her, her back turned resolutely to him, her shoulders slumped just slightly, revealing the depth of her sense of defeat. It was the same sense of defeat that Jake himself had felt, and that had driven him in his decision to walk away from her.

It was over; they were done. Calleigh had made that more than clear to him. He had no right to stay there any longer. And so, he had left, quietly closing the front door behind him.

Now, though, that felt like by far the worst decision he had ever made. Calleigh meant everything to him; he loved her. And yet, he'd given up, just because she'd told him to go away. Now, walking away seemed ridiculous to him.

Why did I ever, ever walk away from her?

It was all Jake could do to keep from hitting his head against the steering wheel. When he'd closed her front door, he'd closed the proverbial door on their relationship. He hadn't fought as hard as he could have, but then again, he didn't think that would've made too much of a difference. Calleigh was set in her ways; when she decided something, that was it. Only rarely did she end up relenting, changing her mind. And when Jake had left, Calleigh had been far too hurt to break down in her defenses and listen to him.

Another deep stab of guilt hit him, right in the heart. Calleigh had been truly hurt. Not just now, but in the past, too. Jake had done the same things that he'd done before. He'd told her he loved her – albeit while she was sleeping, but he'd told her all the same – but his actions contradicted his words. He had lied to her, and in her eyes, he'd once more chosen his career instead of their relationship, instead of her. She would never believe that he didn't want any of this, not in the slightest.

I should have told her everything in the beginning.

But in which beginning? The answer was blindingly obvious, staring at Jake like the red in the traffic light that had stopped him. He should've told her everything ten years ago, when he'd first landed in scalding hot water. One thing he hadn't been lying about, though, was that the reason was never a matter of his trust in her. He'd wanted to keep her safe, out of any kind of trouble. If he'd told her back then about what he'd watched Sam do, and then later it came out that she knew about it and covered for Jake, she could've been charged. Jake knew how much her career meant to her, how hard she had worked to get that far. The last thing he ever wanted was to play any kind of role in destroying all that.

I should've told her months ago, then.

But instead, he'd lied to her again. And he'd continued to lie to her, even after Calleigh had trusted him with her own darkest secrets. He knew that played a huge role in why Calleigh was so deeply hurt right now. Trust had always been a big deal for her. She never gave her trust easily, and Jake had betrayed that trust multiple times. He couldn't count how many times he'd lied to her, or hidden the truth from her. If Calleigh ever trusted anything he had to say again, it would be a miracle.

Flashing lights caught Jake's attention, bringing him back to the present. Up ahead, right in the middle of the road, was a serious wreck. The road was clearly blocked, and an officer was directing cars to another road, a detour. "Great," Jake murmured, his frustration growing even more. His entire day was already ruined, and now he couldn't even take the simple way to his apartment. He knew the detour; it would take him ten minute out of his way. It was the last thing he needed on a day like today.

And then, just as if to spite him, the sky opened up. Fat raindrops fell upon his windshield, accenting the crack of thunder that sounded in the distance. Jake gave a deep groan, wishing that he could seriously just sink into the ground and disappear. Why couldn't anything ever be simple?

Why couldn't love ever be simple?

The question hit him out of nowhere. There was no doubt in his mind that he was in love with Calleigh. In his life, he'd been with plenty of women, but nobody had ever gotten into his head and into his heart like Calleigh had. He didn't care about anybody else like he'd always cared about Calleigh.

So why couldn't he ever make this work? Were there just too many secrets between them? Not enough trust? Or did Calleigh just not feel the same as he did?

Had she never been as invested in their relationship as he had?

Had Jake taken that endless fall into love alone?

It was a good thing that he was pulling into the parking lot at his apartment, because that was the question that finally got to him. Cutting off the engine, Jake rested his head against the steering wheel, listening to the raindrops hit the roof of the car. He felt his anger and frustration replaced with sheer pain, and suddenly he wondered if he could even find the strength to get out of the car.

Love unrequited. Nothing was worse than that. While he was here in the parking lot, nursing a broken heart, Calleigh might very well be picking up the pieces, before tossing them out and getting ready to start again, with somebody else.

Maybe it had been a sign, all those months ago, when the universe seemed to be completely against the idea of him taking Calleigh to dinner. But Jake had persisted, and he'd thought Calleigh had been happy with him. He'd thought Calleigh wanted to be with him.

Had he been sorely wrong?

Maybe he should've backed off after that first dinner date they'd had to cancel. It wouldn't have helped Jake; he would've still longed to be with Calleigh, but at least then he wouldn't have had to lie to her. Most importantly, he wouldn't have had the chance to hurt her again. It wouldn't have done anything to help his own heart, but at least he could've kept Calleigh's intact.

The rain was now falling with a vengeance, but Jake didn't care as he opened the door and stepped out of the car. As far as he was concerned, he deserved to feel the chill that came from being soaked clear to the bone. He deserved the annoyance that came from the feeling of raindrops falling on his head, matting down his unruly hair. He deserved to feel the burn as the raindrops seeped into his eyes, blurring his vision.

He was the one who deserved to be hurting. Not Calleigh. Never Calleigh.

Sighing deeply, Jake fished his key out of his pocket. In his hand, it felt completely foreign to him. It had been so long since he'd used that key; so long since he'd been back to this place.

There was nothing special about the apartment complex. Originally, Jake hadn't planned to stay this long in Miami, and he hadn't had the money nor the desire to find someplace where he could really get comfortable. And by the time he realized he would be staying in Miami, he was already spending most of his nights with Calleigh. It wasn't a bad place, though. It was in a respectable part of town, and it was quite nice on the inside. One bedroom, one bathroom, a small kitchen and an even smaller living room – what more did Jake need?

Fumbling for a moment with the unfamiliar door, Jake finally pushed his way inside, finding himself greeted by the dimmest of lights and a musty scent. He could practically see the dust fly up around him as he stepped inside, closing the door behind him. It was obvious that the place hadn't been lived in for months; it hadn't been cleaned in even longer than that.

If Calleigh only knew, she would have a meltdown.

Jake almost allowed himself a chuckle, but it died before ever reaching his lips. How was he ever going to be able to live anywhere when everything made him think of Calleigh? With a sigh, Jake reached out to the light switch on the wall, frowning when nothing happened. Frustrated, he switched it on and off a few more times, each time still to no avail. The apartment remained shrouded in nothing more than the low light shining through the windows. Groaning, Jake rubbed at his tired eyes as he realized that he'd probably neglected to pay his last couple of electric bills.

This day just keeps getting better and better.

Not caring at all where they landed, Jake tossed his keys away, hearing them land heavily on the floor somewhere to his right. The sound echoed hollowly through his too empty apartment, reminding him once more that it was a place which he might as well have forgotten that it existed.

Numbly Jake trudged his way into the living room, finding his way only by the slim amount of light that flowed in, along with the occasional flash of lightning outside. Out of habit, he grabbed the television remote off of the coffee table, jabbing almost angrily at the power button before remembering that it too worked off of electricity.

No lights, no television, and he didn't even want to think about what had been happening in his refrigerator over the past few months. That just wasn't something he wanted to deal with.

He needed a distraction, but all he had was himself and the darkness, not to mention his own dark thoughts. Without any kind of distraction, they overcame him, pushing his entire being into the kind of dark solitude he'd only felt once before in his life, after the first time he'd failed her.

Closing his eyes, Jake gave into those dark thoughts, unable to find the strength to ward them off. They mixed with the confusion and doubt that already clouded his mind, leaving him unsure of everything, unable to decipher the true meaning of most of those thoughts. But despite all that, as Jake collapsed defeatedly into a dusty armchair, there remained one thing that he did know with absolute certainty.

This wasn't home.

This was never home to him.