Chapter 28:
"Whisper a dangerous secret to someone you care about. Now they have the power to destroy you, but they won't. This is what love is." - Cecil Baldwin, "Welcome to Nightvale"
Daniel Callaghan was just finishing his second cup of coffee in his office when the television hanging on the far side of the wall alerted him to the tragedy that had happened in New York earlier that morning.
It wasn't considered national news, nor was it considered very important, so the only recognition of the 'car accident' that killed Monique Hathaway was a tiny blip scrolling across the bottom of the screen while the news reporters chatted on about one disaster or another. Hell, Daniel was sure that Monique wouldn't have even gotten the tiny bit of airtime that she did if she hadn't been a government official, and even then it was a stretch. Car accidents were common, as tragic as they were, but they happened all the time. Not exciting enough to be reported to the public when there were more interesting things to be discussed.
But Daniel took immediate interest in it, flopping wearily back in his chair when he saw the headline.
So, he thought. It was time, then.
He knew that something had been off the second that Monique had walked out of his office that cold day when she had given him those files, talking as if… as if it would be the last time he would ever see her. Which it was. Monique Hathaway died with the secrets she held of Audrey Perdue, leaving behind nothing more than a simple name he had committed to memory and a legacy of relatively decent police work.
He had poured over the documents looking for some mention of the woman named Katherine Montgomery that supposedly lived in some out-of-the-way place called La Push, Washington, but had effectively emerged from his search mostly empty-handed. There were only two mentions in governmental databases about someone named Katherine Montgomery who lived anywhere near the area: the first was an eighty-year old woman who owned a small knitting shop somewhere in Olympia, and the second was a young Engineering student currently enrolled in Seattle University.
But then he had expanded his search and right when he was about to give up… he found it. It was such a tiny blip on the radar that he had almost missed it, but it was there all the same and he spent ages staring critically at the little stack of information that was nothing more than a photocopied image of a hospital form. Katherine Montgomery, read the form. Female. Age: 23. Purpose of visit – broken wrist, with scrapes on hands and knees. Prior surgeries/medical procedures – Caesarian section during childbirth. Attending physician – Dr. Carlisle Cullen.
That was basically it. There wasn't even a phone number listed or any other descriptive factors that could confirm his suspicions. Normally, Daniel wouldn't have thought anything of the information… if the woman's listed home address had been somewhere other than La Push, Washington.
Then Daniel was stuck – if it truly was Audrey, should he go to her just to confirm his own suspicions? Monique told him about this for a reason, so did she want him to go to Audrey? Was he the only one who knew of her existence now that Monique was dead? That had to be the reason she had spilled the secret that she was forced by law and basic morality code to protect. The Marshall Service didn't exactly keep files on 'who was who' when they put someone in Witness Protection, so if Monique thought that her days were numbered, did she make it so that there would still be someone that knew the secret of Katherine Montgomery? And if so, did that mean it was now his responsibility to protect her in case someone else knew her location?
It was a sea of problematic choices that he simply wasn't sure how to actually deal with, and Daniel decided to put the matter aside for a while until he figured out what to do.
Now… now he was forced to make a decision, because if Monique's death wasn't just a car accident like he expected it was and someone else happened to find the information that he did, then Audrey's safety was compromised and she would have absolutely no idea. If she had been staying out of the public eye like she was supposed to be, she couldn't possibly know that her contact within the government had been killed, therefore putting her whole family at risk if her location was compromised.
He sighed and after a brief moment of debate, he called out to his secretary sitting just outside the door. "Annette! Could you do me a quick favor?"
The aging woman poked her head inside the door expectantly, sensible shoes shuffling on the carpeted floors. "Yes, sir?"
"Cancel my meetings for the next week and a half," he said immediately, chugging down the rest of his now-cold coffee and pushing back from his seat to gather up his belongings. "Send the district attorney my apologies, but I'll have to reschedule my dinner with him and his wife on Saturday. Make it in two weeks - or three, if that works better for him."
Annette gave him a strange look. "Any particular reason why you need to reschedule?"
"Something came up," he stated vaguely, flipping through a stack of papers before shoving them in his briefcase. "And do me another favor, would you? Immediately, if you can, preferably before you cancel the meetings. Call Delta Airlines – see what you can find for flights to Seattle-Tacoma International. The earliest flight you can get; first class, coach... doesn't matter. Just find a flight."
"Uh, right away, then," she said in confusion, her thin, graying eyebrows rising impossibly high. "If you don't mind the fact that I'm asking, what's in Seattle?"
"Important business that just came up," he answered as he rushed past her, shutting and locking his office door behind him. "I need to attend to it immediately, so I'll be out of the office for the rest of the week."
"Wait!" she called out to his retreating back. "Where are you going now?"
"Home to pack my bags!" he quickly called back to her. Then, much quieter, he muttered, "It's way past time for me to go visit an old friend."
oOo
"Leah was right – you really don't have much in the way of clothing, do you?"
From where I was positioned on the edge of my bed with a warm bundle resting contentedly in my arms, I watched as Emily dug through my closet like Leah had done so many weeks ago. It was strange to see her like this, critically studying pieces of clothing and frowning when she saw something that she wasn't satisfied with, and I was struck with the sudden reminder of how similar the she was to Leah. They were cousins, of course, a fact I already knew, but it was sometimes easy to forget with how different they usually were. Now, seeing Emily in this environment, I caught a glimpse of why they might have been so close when they were teenagers – a closeness that Leah would fight hard to deny.
"You and Leah are way too nosy for your own good," I playfully scolded her, smiling down delightedly at the baby in my arms. "And much too involved in my romantic life for some reason that I simply can't fathom, because it seriously isn't as interesting as you guys make it seem. Isn't that right, Takoda?"
Takoda giggled as I cooed at him, reaching up his chubby arms to try and grab onto a piece of my hair. He incessantly babbled a bunch of gibberish, laughing again when I quickly planted a series of kisses across his cheek.
"Interesting?" said Emily, tossing me a look over her shoulder. "When you two aren't fighting with each other, we all think it's hilarious. You and Paul are better than an episode of The Young and the Restless. We never know when one of you is going to get furious at the other and cause a bunch of drama. Not much else for us to do around here anyway, so Kim and I have been keeping a tally. You're in the lead, but Paul is a close second."
"Glad to know my life is a source of entertainment for you," I bitterly replied. "If history truly does repeat itself then you should get ready to have a few laughs, because our track record isn't exactly great. Tonight is probably going to turn out to be a complete and utter disaster."
Emily turned, a pair of shoes dangling from her fingers that she waved around to emphasize her words. "Oh, don't say that. If you keep dreading it then of course it's not going to turn out well. Like a self-fulfilling prophecy, you know? Think good thoughts and the rest will follow in time."
"I'm glad that someone is pretty confident in us, because I know I'm not," I said. "I'm still questioning whether or not this is a good idea. Paul is... this worries me. I can think of a thousand ways for this to go wrong and I'm making myself more and more paranoid every second."
"It is a good idea." When I gave her a dubious look, she sighed, tossing the shoes to the floor and taking a seat beside me. "What is it that you're actually worried about? Is it just nerves? I know that when I had my first date with Sam, I was practically a mess." She waved her hand to emphasize her point. "Granted, there was that whole Leah-Sam anvil hanging over my head at the time, so that didn't exactly help."
"I don't know, I mean…" I looked down at Takoda, gently fixing the edge of the blanket in which he was wrapped. "I guess this is technically the first date I've ever been on - besides the whole 'not date' thing - and I don't know what the protocol is. What do you do on dates with your supposed werewolf soul mate? What do you do on dates at all? It's just a foreign concept to me, you know? There was always something more important to do, so I never put dating as one of my high priorities."
"Not exactly rocket science, Katherine," she said wryly, nudging my shoulder with her own. "As cheesy and cliché as it sounds, you really just have to be yourself." After a slight pause, she added, "He's not expecting anything more than you can give him. He's honestly just happy that you agreed to go out with him at all – whether it was in a sleepy haze after he broke into your house or not – and really wants nothing more than to spend some time with you."
"Still doesn't change the fact that I don't know what I'm going to do." I gently reached out and placed a squirming Takoda back in his mother's arms, unable to sit still any longer. I stood and paced the floor, coming to a stop near the windowsill. "Sometimes I still have my doubts about this whole imprint thing. Like it really was a mistake and he was supposed to imprint on someone else. Someone that could have made his life easier."
"He wasn't. That's not how imprinting is supposed to work."
"Yeah," I said, "so I've been told. I want it to be real, though. I didn't at first, but now…" I looked away. "I guess things are different now. The way that I look at it… well, I realize that I could do a lot worse than Paul. Could do a lot better, but I could also do a lot worse. A lot worse."
When I looked back at Emily, she was smiling gently. "It's not a bad thing to have feelings for him. It's supposed to happen, and I promise you that he feels the same way. He always will. It's hard to believe, I know," she said. "Trust me, we all had our qualms about it, but once we gave in, it's the most beautiful thing. I have the most wonderful family in the world, and I wouldn't have had them if Sam hadn't imprinted."
"I don't have feelings for him," I automatically denied, choosing not to look at her when I spoke. "I feel something for him, but not..." I sighed. "I don't know, Emily. It's like my heart is telling me one thing but my head says the opposite, so it's difficult to tell you exactly how I feel. There's something, but... I don't know what it is. I've never felt it before."
"When you do figure it out," Emily replied kindly, "he'll be waiting, and he'll be happy with whatever you decide. If you feel that kissing him didn't mean anything and all of this is simply an attempt at trying to sort out how you feel, then he'll be okay with that. If you realize that it's more and that you want more like I honestly think you do, then... well, get ready for the ride of your life."
I choked out a laugh, pushing back my hair from my face. "Ride of my life, huh?"
"Sweetie, you have no idea."
oOo
"Okay, your choices are… me, Jared, and Sam."
I showed up at Paul's house a few minutes after seven o'clock, having been given the relieving notice that we wouldn't actually be going out for our 'date.' That was completely fine with me. I could dress comfortably for a night in a warm place without having to worry about spilled wine, broken wrists, or getting soaked by the rain, so I was pretty much prepared to call the night a 'win' before it had even started., even if I had basically no idea what he had actually planned for us.
Emily had been vague about the events of the night – if she had known anything about it at all – and Paul kept his plans to himself. Instinctively, I knew that it wouldn't be anything too complicated - yet another fact for which I would be eternally grateful. It would be a pleasant change of pace for us to have a peaceful night without any drama, but I wasn't going to jinx myself by keeping my hopes up. I had a low bar running from the moment I stepped out of my truck, hoping that this night wouldn't turn out like the others.
And it turned out… to be the best date I ever had.
Granted, it was basically the only date I had ever been on, so I didn't exactly have anything to compare it to. However, with knowledge of the tales of disaster dates that I had heard from colleagues and my own experiences with 'going out with Paul,' I considered myself lucky to have what I did, which was a guy whose idea was a night in front of the fireplace.
The night was easygoing – some may have gone so far as to call it boring, but I enjoyed myself and honestly, I wasn't sure that my brain would have been able to take more than I had been given. He had pushed back the furniture in his living room and laid out a huge pile of blankets and pillows on the floor in front of the fire – a makeshift picnic area where we settled down with a light dinner that consisted of pasta (made from Emily, Paul had said), salad (though mostly for me – Paul had turned up his nose at it and helped himself to a second helping of pasta instead) mixed pieces of sliced fruit, and the bottle of red wine from our 'not-date' that I had been saving for a special occasion.
Filled with delicious food and a warm tingling in my belly from the wine, I had simply fallen backwards on the blankets with a contented sigh, stretching out my toes toward the fire. Paul sat beside me and leaned back on his arms, equally full and equally content.
We talked about nothing in particular for a while, random questions without any heaviness or stress being thrown back and forth between us until we somehow got onto our own, rather strange version of 'Fuck, Marry, Kill.' It was revealing a lot about both of us and there were quite a few amused laughs, until Paul said three names that drastically changed the tone of our entire conversation.
"You, Jared, and Sam…" I repeated lazily, fingers twirling in a slightly torn piece of the blanket under my back as I peered up at Paul critically. "Kill Jared, definitely, because he can be an annoying little shit. And – hm, I guess I'd have to fuck Sam –"
Paul had a lot of nerve to look insulted, considering that he had been the one to ask the question. "Why not me?"
"Because Sam is already married," I explained, giving him a strange look as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Besides, I don't think I would have the same level of patience that Emily has to be able to deal with Sam for the rest of my life, and to be completely honest with you, I don't think Sam would be able to deal with me. We'd probably kill each other before the end of the second night, so maybe we could hate-fuck and be done with it."
"Oh, God," he covered his face with his hands, quickly giving his head a shake in my direction, "please don't give me that mental image. It's scarring enough to think of you and Sam doing anything remotely sexual together, let alone hate-fucking."
"Why?" I smiled innocently up at him, reaching up to pry his hands from his face so I could see his expression. "Are you jealous?"
"Fuck yeah, I am," he said assuredly, without any hint of shame. "The thought of you with anyone else drives me nuts. But then again," he added thoughtfully, a lazy smirk appearing on his face, "I'm much more good-looking than Sam is, so it isn't like I actually have anything to worry about."
"Also more humble than Sam, apparently," I stated wryly. "It's true, though. You don't have to be jealous of him. You don't have to be jealous of anyone, really. Just because I have a bunch of large people in my social circle doesn't necessarily mean that my social circle is large."
He smiled and my heart skipped a beat, curiosity suddenly dawning in his gaze. "There really wasn't anyone for you back in New York? No one at all that… not that I want there to be anyone," he rushed to add, "but… it just seems unlikely, you know? Despite the whole wall of steel you have around you, you're actually a really awesome person."
"Gee, Paul, thanks," I said sarcastically, flopping onto my stomach and resting my head on my hand as I studied his profile. "What a wonderful compliment. And to answer your question, there truly wasn't anyone." I frowned. "Actually, I think there was only one guy that I interacted with on a daily basis that I could actually stand to be around for long periods of time. Good with the boys, smart, successful, didn't back down when I picked a fight with him…" I shook my head. "But I never even considered being romantic with him. Never would have worked between us so I didn't see a point in even thinking about it."
"Why not?"
I smirked. "Considering the fact that he was my boss, some people might have considered it the tiniest bit unprofessional." Paul nodded knowingly, and I continued, "To be honest with you, he probably thought I hated him, but I thought of him as something very close to a friend. I respected him, at the very least. More than I respected others, and it wasn't just because he was my boss and signed my paychecks."
Paul looked thoughtful, turning onto his side to face me. "You talk about him like he's dead."
"I left without saying goodbye, so it sort of seems like he is sometimes." Then I gave him a wry look with a morbid inside joke that I knew Paul simply wouldn't understand. "More like I'm the dead one, really."
He grimaced. "I'm kind of glad that you aren't."
I nudged his shoulder. "Yeah, I'm kind of happy about that, too." Then my gaze softened to something akin to loss, and I confessed, "I miss him. All of my friends, as few and sparse as they may have been."
"They're only a phone call away if you really wanted to speak with them," he pointed out. "You could even call them right now, if you wanted."
"I doubt they'd take too kindly to that since it's about… oh, three in the morning there," I smiled sadly, absently picking at one of my nails. "Besides, I doubt that they would want to hear from me anyway. It's been so long and I left so suddenly..."
He shrugged. "You never know."
No, I definitely knew. "When we left New York," I began, biting my lip, "we – well technically I – left knowing that I probably would never see them again. I thought that I was okay with that, like it had only been temporary anyway and that I would have eventually found myself moving away anyway. Things are so different now. I miss it there. I wish I could go back and..." I sighed, wistfully closing my eyes. "Spend some time there. Go and see my favorite places and visit some old friends."
"Just because you moved doesn't mean that they stopped existing, and it doesn't mean that they stopped being your friends," he argued, reaching out to push a stray strand of hair behind my ear. His hand lingered a moment too long, the tips of his fingers brushing lightly over my cheek. "Do you think you'll ever move back?"
My eyes flickered open and I turned to him, studying him intently and reaching out to grab his hand before he fully pulled away. We both looked down at our conjoined hands and he sighed, his expression somewhat nervous. It didn't take a genius to figure out why. "No," I said after a moment. "Moving back there? No, probably not. I couldn't even if I wanted to do so."
"Why not?"
"Trying to get me to leave, Lahote?" I questioned slyly, knowing that I was avoiding the question and not really caring. "And here I thought we were actually making progress, but you're trying to get me to move out of the state."
"Nah," he shook his head, tugging me forward by the hand until I was curled up against his chest. When he turned onto his back, I let my head rest near the crook of his neck, murmuring contentedly at his warmth. "If you wanted to go I obviously wouldn't be able to stop you, but I would really love it if you stayed."
"Like I could actually leave now," I said. "After everything." Then, because curiosity eventually overwhelmed me, I asked, "Hypothetical situation: let's say that tomorrow morning I wake up and decide that I want to leave La Push forever and go back to New York. What would you do?"
Paul let out a heavy breath of air and shrugged. "I honestly don't know what I would do." His arm instinctively tightened around me. "The thought of you leaving is painful. I hate the thought that I could wake up tomorrow and you could just be... gone."
I was silent, playing with the collar of his shirt while I struggled to organize my thoughts. "You don't have to worry," I eventually said. "I can't go back there. It was one of those things where I swept off a clean slate and I just can't go back now. The only reason I would ever leave is if -" I cut myself off, pausing. "It's just hard to think about them."
"You're a glutton for punishment."
I chuckled. "I'm not a masochist," I replied amusedly. "At least, I don't think I am. I don't thrive off of pain, but… maybe I put myself in a lot of situations that could have easily been avoided. Shoving people away because I…" My face fell. "It's easier to protect them that way. It's easier to protect the people that I care about if I push them away, because they don't have to deal with… me."
His eyes were stern and I struggled to avoid his gaze. "Katherine."
"I'm okay, I promise. They're better off without me anyway, and I… sometimes I wish I could go back and tell my boss that I didn't completely hate his guts, and sometimes I wish that I could tell my old best friends how grateful I am for everything that they've done for me…" I looked up to see Paul was still watching me intently, and I felt my cheeks heat. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for this to get so serious, but –"
"You miss your friends," he said softly. His hand ran up my spine in a comforting way. There was nothing remotely sexual or forward about the motion but it still made a chill run up my spine. "That isn't a crime, Katherine. But I'm still kind of confused – you keep acting like you were forced out of your home and won't ever be able to return. Did something happen when you left?" His brow furrowed. "For that matter, I don't think you ever actually told me why you really left."
This was it – the moment of truth. If I opened my mouth and said what I truly wanted to say, there would be no turning back. There wouldn't be any way to erase time or change my actions; no way to take back my words if I suddenly found myself filled with regrets. This would be the end. Paul would probably be furious that I kept the secret for so long, but eventually he would get over it and… there would no longer be any secrets between us, which was something that I had wanted for so long.
I had told Isaac that the secret had to stay between us, but sitting there in front of Paul with my heart on my sleeve, I could feel my resolve slowly beginning to slip. Maybe Isaac had been right. I was supposed to lean on Paul; I was supposed to be able to confide in him and trust him. I was supposed to spend the rest of my life with him, so could I really do so without ever telling him the truth?
The answer was simple – no. I couldn't. I wouldn't be able to live with myself. I wouldn't be able to look him in the eye everyday, knowing that I had a horrible secret swinging over my head at every moment.
And I suddenly had a beautiful vision of a bright future where we could be happy. A family. So fucking happy together. Late nights camped out in the living room of a nice house in front of the fire, family game nights with the boys, sleeping in on a early winter morning and cuddling up together underneath the sheets… such beautiful thoughts that I realized I wanted more than anything in the world, and I knew I couldn't have that unless I was honest with him, because…
Because…
I loved him.
God, did I love him. It took me so long to actually figure it out, but it was the truth. Maybe that was why I had fought so hard – instinctively, I had known. I didn't want to love him and I knew that I shouldn't and these emotions were so overwhelming and strange and unfamiliar, but the love was entirely unmistakable. I couldn't deny it any longer.
Because I knew that he loved me, too.
A hand on my cheek jolted me out of my thoughts as Paul's thumb wiped away a tear from under my eye. I hadn't even realized that I was crying, and I quickly rubbed away the wetness with my hands, choking out a laugh of disbelief.
"What…?"
And I decided. In that split moment, I had made my decision. Swallowing nervously and pulling up every ounce of bravery I could muster, I leaned forward and placed a hand on Paul's cheek, slowly sliding it backwards until I had gripped lightly onto some of his hair. "Kiss me," I told him.
I could feel him stiffen slightly under me, looking down with masked eyes. I couldn't figure out what he was thinking, but easily gauged that he had to be confused. I would be if I were in his position. After a moment of silence, he finally asked with the smallest bit of hope barely hidden in his voice. "Does that mean it's real?"
My lip trembled, and I tried not to let my voice shake as I answered, "Yes."
Paul didn't hesitate a moment longer, the heat of his hand leaving a scorching trail down my cheek and to the base of my neck. His kiss was soft and slow, so different than our previous kiss that had been rough, rushed, and a clash of teeth and bitten lips. He pulled away from me but still remained close enough to keep us nose to nose, and I could feel his breath rushing over my face. Testing the waters. Seeing if I would pull away, get scared, or change my mind. But I didn't. I had no intentions of moving away from him and when he realized it, he leaned in again.
The palm of my hand settled on his chest above his heart, feeling the steady beat beneath my fingertips. He shifted, reaching out his free hand to curl tightly in the hem of my shirt as he pulled me even tighter against him. I could feel him smile against my lips, unconcerned or maybe having forgotten that his question had once again remained unanswered, but I hadn't. For now, though, in this tiny beautiful moment, I would enjoy the peace while it lasted.
A sigh entered the air, passing through me and entering into him in one breath, and I tightened my grip on his hair when he deepened the kiss. His skin was warm and intoxicating and he tasted like the wine he had sipped with his meal, and I quickly decided that I could quite easily spend the rest of my life kissing Paul.
But not while I wasn't being honest with him.
I pulled away regretfully, and his head followed me forward in an effort to not break our kiss. Chuckling, I placed both of my hands against his torso to keep him in place. "There's something that I need to tell you," I said, and my voice sounded embarrassingly hoarse. "I… I probably should have told you a long time ago, but I didn't want to because… I don't know how you'll take it."
He didn't sound winded like I had, but his answering response told me that he had been affected by our kiss, too. A breathy laugh entered the air, and he ran his thumb across my cheek. "Trust me when I tell you that I have absolutely no intention of letting you go after that."
I took a deep breath. "Paul, I've been –"
There was a ringing from somewhere that made me nearly jump out of my skin, in a place that was so dangerously close to my ear that I flinched forward into Paul's chest to get away from it. Spying the name on the screen, I scowled. Oh, for fuck's sake, Isaac; what could you possibly want?
"Your brother?" Paul asked, spying the name over my shoulder.
I nodded, simply reaching down to click the 'Ignore' button. Isaac would understand. His phone call could wait. But then when I opened my mouth to begin to explain to Paul what I had been hiding for so long, the phone rang again.
I nearly growled in my frustration, heart threatening to beat out of my chest.
"It has to be important," said Paul. "Answer it and see what he needs then we can finish our conversation."
So I did, quickly pressing the phone to my ear. "This better be important," I said, without bothering with any sort of introduction. "What could you possibly want that couldn't have waited until I got home?"
Isaac sounded rough and nervous. Very nervous, in a way that made a wave of iciness rush over my skin as if someone had just dumped a bucket of ice water over my head. "I'm so sorry, Katherine, but I wouldn't have called if it wasn't extremely important. I – we kind of have a situation here."
I sat up and Paul's arms fell away from my body. "What's wrong?" I demanded.
"Nothing, nothing, I wouldn't really say anything is wrong," he began. There was a pause and a mumble in the background that sounded vaguely familiar, and I heard him hiss, "I know, I'm working on it. Just give me a second." Then – "Everyone is okay, I promise. We're both fine and safe, but we kind of have a family emergency. You need to get home. Like… now, if possible."
"Who's there with you?" I questioned quickly, already pushing myself to my feet to search for my keys. I never even had to look, however, because Paul had also stood and tossed them to me. "If something's wrong –"
"Nothing's wrong," he urged determinedly. "Just – look, how fast can you get here? We're in the middle of what could be considered a family crisis and we need you here. Please."
"As soon as possible," I promised. "Do you want me to stay on the phone with you?"
"No, like I told you before, we're both fine. Please just try and hurry." There was a pause. "But drive safe. Don't rush or anything."
"Okay, Paul and I are on our way right –"
"No!" his shout was so loud that it made me halt in my tracks. I glanced at Paul, who raised a surprised eyebrow. "I mean – it's a private matter. Not that I don't want Paul around or anything, but I - trust me, okay? Just you. I – and if Paul can hear this, I'm sorry, but I really just need my sister right now."
I stared at Paul expectantly, waiting for him to speak. When he didn't, I knew that he already knew what I would do. My family came first, as I had told him so many times before. "I'm sorry."
"You need to go and be with your family," he replied easily, nodding. "I understand. Really, I do. They come first."
"I'll call you," I said. "Let you know what's going on when things settle down and when I figure out what the hell he's gotten himself into within the last few hours." I placed my hand on the doorknob as I prepared myself to leave, but turned around at the last second. A silent debate in my head, I quickly leaned up and gave him a quick, chaste kiss before I rushed out the door with burning cheeks. "It's okay," I said into the phone. "I'm on my way right now. Are you sure everything is alright?"
As I started the truck, I glanced up to see Paul's form leaning against the doorframe, mostly illuminated from the light within the house. He was otherwise covered in shadow, and I gave him one last regretful look before I turned my attention back to my conversation.
"Physically? Yeah, of course. Emotionally?" Isaac paused. "Well, you'll be the judge of that when you get here."
oOo
I raced to my home faster than what was probably legal, heart racing and breathing heavy with nervous anticipation at what I would see when I arrived at the house. I barely noticed my surroundings as I jumped out of my truck before I had fully parked, too distracted by horrible thoughts of what could be going on inside of my house. Too distracted to care about my own safety. Too distracted to notice the spare set of tire tracks through the snow that led up to the house and headed toward the backyard. Too distracted to notice the man-made footprints leading up the porch steps. Too distracted to notice anything except my heart threatening to beat out of my chest and the terrified ringing in my ears.
Luke burst out of the house before I could even tear open the front door. "Mommy!"
Relief burst out of me like a tidal wave and I choked back a sob, running toward him and gathering him in my arms. "Oh, sweetie," I said, pulling back to plant a row of kisses along his face. "Are you okay?" I asked, quickly examining him for any broken bones or scratches or bruises or anything that seemed even the slightest bit out of the ordinary.
But he didn't seem worried. In fact, he was the opposite – all smiling and giggly and pushing me away to stop me from kissing him again. "Mommy, stop!" he said with a laugh, reaching forward to grab my hand. "Come on, come on!" He dragged me forward into the house, practically jumping in excitement. "You have to see who came to visit us!"
The first thing I noticed was Isaac, who was sitting sideways on the living room couch with red-rimmed eyes. He looked blank and drained, emotionally exhausted from something that I simply couldn't perceive. Another stretch of relief went through my veins… until I saw the man sitting beside him.
At first, I stiffened. The man was facing Isaac so I wasn't able to see his face right away, but something about him seemed vaguely familiar, like a whisper from a dream that had long since been forgotten. Maybe it was because of the clothes he was wearing since they were so casual and all I had ever seen the man wearing had been business suits and tuxedo's. A frayed ball cap sat on the top of his head that mostly hid his perfectly trimmed hair, and his torso was covered in an expensive brown leather jacket on top of a plaid, button-up shirt.
Luke rushed past me to go to the man, and he let out a much too familiar laugh before pulling Luke onto his lap. Then he turned, and I caught a glimpse of a thin nose, pale skin, and icy blue eyes that I hadn't seen in months. When he spoke, he sounded gentle and the slightest bit regretful, as if he didn't want to be here just as much as I didn't want him here. "Hi there, Audrey."
I sucked in a steadying breath and found that I could say nothing but his name, "Daniel."
oOo
Next Time: Fears, decisions, and discovering the truth.
