Page 19 of Love, Second Chances and Other Nonsense
Adam’s shoulders slump. “I never meant to make you feel that way.”
“I know. But you did.”
He’s quiet for a long moment, looking at me like he’s seeing me for the first time in months. Maybe he is.
“I’m sorry,” he finally says, sounding genuinely regretful. “I’ve been wrapped up in helping Millie and her mom. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I’ve been unfair to you.”
I nod, not trusting myself to speak.
“Let me make it up to you,” he says, taking a step toward me. “Let’s plan on having a regular date night. Every week. Just us. No interruptions.”
“Really?” I hate the hopeful tremor in my voice.
“Really.” He reaches for my hand, and I let him take it. “I’ll do all the planning. You won’t have to do anything except show up.”
I want to believe him. I want it so badly that it aches. But there’s a new wariness in me that wasn’t there before.
“I’d like that,” I say cautiously.
He pulls me into a hug, and I let myself melt into it, into the familiar smell of him, the solidity of his chest against my cheek. For a moment, it feels like it used to, before Iowa, before Millie, before I started disappearing.
“I miss you,” I whisper into his shirt.
His arms tighten around me. “I’m right here.”
But as I close my eyes, I can’t help but wonder how long his promises will last. A date night sounds wonderful, but what about the day after that? And the day after that?
Rachel’s voice echoes in my head: You deserve to be chosen, every day.
I just wish I could be sure that Adam would keep choosing me.
6
Chapter 6
Caitlin
I wake to soft morning light filtering through the curtains. My first thought is that I’m twenty-eight years old today. Stretching my arms above my head and blinking away sleep, I reach for Adam, but the spot next to me is empty, the sheets cool. He’s been up for a while. I listen for any sounds coming from the kitchen, but the apartment is quiet.
Birthdays were never a big deal in my house growing up. My grandmother Louise would make my favorite dinner and we’d have cake, but there wasn’t much fuss beyond that. Still, there’s something about the day you’re born that makes you want someone to acknowledge it, to say: I’m glad you exist.
I pad to the bathroom and brush my teeth. When I’m done, I head toward the kitchen. Adam is sitting at our small table, coffee mug in one hand, scrolling through his phone with the other. His dark hair is still damp from the shower, and he’salready dressed for the day in khakis and a blue button-down that brings out the warm tones in his tanned skin.
“Morning,” he says without looking up from his phone, taking another sip of coffee.
“Morning,” I reply, hovering in the doorway. My stomach does an anxious little flip. Did I ever actually tell him when my birthday is? No, I had to have told him because we celebrated my together last year. Maybe he just forgot? Things have been really busy for him at work lately, and he’s been working late pretty often.
I open the refrigerator and stare at its contents, not really seeing anything. I close it without taking anything out and move to the cabinet for a mug instead. “So, what are your plans for today?” I ask, trying to sound casual.
Adam glances up from his phone. “Nothing too out of the ordinary. Wanted to hit the gym at some point. How about you?”
“Oh, just the usual,” I say, filling my mug with coffee from the pot he’s already made. I add creamer and a spoonful of sugar, stirring slowly to give myself something to focus on. “Thought I might do some shopping or something.”
“That sounds nice,” Adam says, his eyes back on his phone.
I take a breath, debating whether to just say it. “Hey, it’s my birthday today. Just FYI.” But something stops me. I don’t want to make him feel bad if he’s honestly forgotten. And if he does know and has chosen not to acknowledge it, well, that would make me feel worse.
“I’m going to take this to the living room,” I say, lifting my mug slightly. “Watch the sunrise.”
