Page 88 of Before the Bond
On the website, I saw several open contracts: a pediatric unit in Tucson, a cardiac floor in Sacramento, a trauma center in Indianapolis, a floating position for a medical-surgical ward, and a small clinic in — I closed the tab before I finished reading.
I needed air.
Functional was a generous word for the ventilation in the room. I didn’t open the window because of bugs, but right now I really needed an open space.
As I exited, I immediately saw the road and the line of trees across it. When the heavy feeling in my chest returned, I turned away.
The parking lot was empty except for two other cars and a truck with out-of-state plates. The diner was only a small walk away, but my legs gave out faster than I expected. I settled for finding a vending machine instead.
Two were propped right outside the motel office in paint-chipped blue and pink. I perked up a little when I realized one of them was a coffee dispenser. I lingered outside a little more as I drank the very bitter coffee and a protein bar.
The air was getting a little warmer even though it was getting later in the day, which I attributed to the building exhaust of the cars passing by. Eventually, though I didn't know when just yet, I would be joining those cars to my next destination.
I finished the last of my meal, and made my way back to the motel room.
Another window that hadn't been lit before glowed just next to the motel office. I peered inside and noticed it was a reading lounge. It was probably closed when I drove in earlier.
Looking in, I saw a reading nook by a small fireplace.
The chairs looked worn, and the fireplace wasn't so much there to warm people as it was there for set dressing. I could see a couple of newspapers and tourist magazines, too.
No books, I thought.
The pain in my chest welled up again.
It wasn’t the same, but I couldn’t help remembering it. I missed it.
No matter what uncertainty I felt at the Ashwood estate, those nights with Caleb were something to me I could always rely on. How quiet it was. How easy.
I thought about Caleb’s story again. This time not the subject matter, but the way he said it. He said his words slowly, pouring every amount of emotion he could into them without breaking the wall of the secret he was holding at the time.
Before any of that, he asked if I wanted to hear it. I saw it clearly then.
He didn’t pursue me in Northern California. He waited for me to arrive at Greyhollow, instead. He let me approach the fireplace. When I asked for things, like info about Jake’scondition, or later during the attack, he waited for my questions rather than forcing himself. Our tender moments were never rushed. Each time we touched, we kissed, he let me come to him. Those weren’t the acts of someone controlled by impulse.
I knew now, without a doubt, something I questioned since my arrival.
Caleb Ashwood truly loved me.
Two people inside sat by the reading nook and turned on its fire. It was small, but tinted the small area with warm light. They both sat next to each other on the loveseat and chatted animatedly.
I wanted that. Something chosen. Equal.
The heaviness in my chest turned into a sting.
I turned away from the lodge.
Even if Caleb’s feelings for me were true, there was still the broken promise. It didn’t change what he didn’t say.
But eerily, that wasn't what bothered me the most.
Caleb loves me, I thought.But can I say for certainty that I love him?
I went back to the room.
The phone was still charging on my bed. I didn’t book anything.
I sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the strip of light on the floor.
