Page 33 of Rome
He hopped down off the porch, striding down the small walkway to his car before I could say anything else. I stood on the porch and waved to Ethan as they backed out of the driveway, trying to decide if that entire exchange had really been as awkward as I thought it had been.
Three hours passed before I finally heard the familiar sounds of Caleb’s bike pulling into the driveway and the overhead garage door opener kicking on. I pushed myself to my feet, and smoothed my top down over my belly as I made my way into the kitchen to greet him.
I didn’t have any pretty lingerie that would still fit, but I had at least exchanged my maternity T-shirt for a pretty, flowy tunic-style top as soon as Ethan left. My boobs were big, but when I was pregnant, they were huge, and they spilled out of the deep V-neckline in a way that I knew Caleb would love. He also loved the way my leggings hugged my ass, so I tended to wear leggings a lot.
I’d even taken the time to drag out my curling iron, adding a few extra curls to my naturally wavy hair. I rarely wore much makeup. I’d been blessed with clear, even skin, and Caleb hated when I covered up the smattering of freckles I had, so I didn’t bother with foundation. I did apply a little concealer to counteract the dark smudges under my eyes that never seemed to go away no matter how much sleep I got these days, and a bit of eyeshadow and mascara, to make my green eyes pop.
So, as I waited for him to walk through the door, I felt as pretty and sexy as I could feel at thirty-seven weeks pregnant. My heart started racing as the rumble of the bike stopped, and I heard the overhead garage door lowering. I realized I was bouncing on the balls of my feet, feeling ridiculously excited about getting to spend the next eighteen or so hours alone with my husband. We’d barely seen each other over the past week, let alone spent any quality time alone together, and to put it bluntly, I was feeling horny as hell.
Several minutes passed, and I wondered why Caleb hadn’t come into the house yet. I started for the door, intent on finding out what was keeping him, when the door swung open, and Caleb stepped inside. His head was down, his shoulders slumped as if he carried the weight of the world on them, and my heart sank at the sight. He slipped his cut off, his movements slow and deliberate as he hung it on the hook by the door.
“I take it Church didn’t go well?”
Caleb tensed at the sound of my voice, then he turned, and I almost gasped at the look on his face. I hadn’t ever seen him look as…lostas he did right now. He looked as if he had aged ten years, and I could almost see the utter devastation and hopelessness written on every line of his face.
“My God, what happened?” I blurted, hurrying over, and wrapping my arms around him. He stood motionless for a moment, then his arms enveloped me and pulled me close. He buried his face in the crook of my neck, and I could feel the air skim over my skin as he breathed in deeply. His arms tightened almost painfully around me before he suddenly released me and took a step back. He slipped around me and strode into the kitchen without saying a word. I was so surprised that it took me a few seconds to go after him.
“What’s wrong, Caleb?” I asked again as I walked into the kitchen, finding him reaching into the refrigerator for a bottle of water. His jaw clenched as he unscrewed the cap, shooting me a quick glance over his shoulder as he raised the bottle to his lips and took a long drink. He set the bottle back down on the counter and focused his gaze out the window above the kitchen sink.
“Has something happened? Is someone hurt?” The fear in my voice apparently registered with him, because he finally answered me, still staring out the window.
“Everyone’s fine, but…I need to talk to you. There’s something…” his voice trailed off and I saw him swallow hard.
“You’re scaring me, Caleb.” I took a step closer to him, then another. “What’s wrong?”
“Let’s go sit down,” he said, finally tearing his gaze from the window as he turned to walk into the living room.
I grabbed his arm as he tried to brush past me.
“Just tell me,” I urged softly. I could feel my heart rate spike as my anxiety kicked in. I slipped around him so that I could face him. “Whatever it is, just tell me.” I reached up and wrapped my arms around his neck, raising myself up on my tiptoes to kiss him. He jerked his head back so quickly that I stumbled, and his arms shot out to steady me. I looked at him in shock, my eyes narrowing when I noticed a small cut on his bottom lip and swelling along his jaw.
“Abby – “
“Were you in a fight?” I interrupted to ask. His hand flew to the corner of his lip, and he gingerly probed the cut.
“Not really. Just took a punch,” he explained hoarsely. He cleared his throat, his eyes skating over me before he looked away.
“Who the hell hit you?” I walked over and yanked open the freezer door to grab one of the ice packs I kept on hand for Ethan’s occasional bumps and bruises, then wrapped it in a kitchen towel. “Did you and Pic get into it?” I crossed the room to him, gently pressing the ice pack to the side of his face. He flinched at the contact, or maybe at the question I had asked, I wasn’t sure which.
He raised his hand to hold the ice pack in place and I took a step back, running my eyes over the rest of his body to check for any other injuries. I spotted a small bruise peeking out under the neckline of the Guardian Ink T-shirt he was wearing.
“Shit, Caleb, you have a bruise on your neck, too.” I reached up to pull the material out of the way so I could see how bad it was. “Where else are you hurt? Did Pic do this?” I demanded.
I peered at the small, purplish discoloration, then ran my fingertip over it, trying to determine if there was any swelling underneath the skin. Caleb’s body stiffened even more at my touch, and he reached up to pull my hand away, his hand tightening on mine almost painfully. I glanced up at him, startled, to find him staring straight ahead with his jaw clenched so tightly I was afraid he would crack a molar. I could almost feel the waves of tension radiating from him.
I suddenly felt very uneasy, and I looked at his neck again, studying it more closely. My breath caught in my throat as I realized that it wasn’t a bruise.
“Abby, I – “
I jerked back and yanked my hand out of his grasp.
“That’s a hickey,” I choked out, unable to believe what I was seeing. My heartbeat pounded in my ears as I tried to process what was right in front of my face.
“Please, baby girl, just sit down and let me explain.” He reached for me, a pained look crossing his face when I flinched. He lowered his hand, eyeing me warily, as if I were a skittish animal that he needed to calm.
“Explain? Explainthat?” I flung my hand up, pointing accusingly at his neck. “You think you can possibly explain how you let some woman get close enough to you to give you afucking hickey?” My voice was nothing but a high-pitched screech at the end. I was breathing heavily, the sound harsh in the silence that followed my outburst.
He closed his eyes, and I saw a tear roll down his cheek.
