Page 30 of Before the Bond
I paused at the entrance. The only other time I'd hesitated to go inside was the second time. I hated myself for making things awkward.
No, I cut myself off.You’ve been doing everything you can.
It was true. I could work as much as I needed to, but progress was a two-way street.
Still, I couldn’t help but feel a little guilty.
I finally headed in.
Caleb was in his chair. The fire was lower than usual, its flames casting bouncing shadows that made it hard to read Caleb’s expression.
What I could make out was that Caleb wasn’t reading a book. Almost as if he forgot to bring one.
He saw me, but I ignored him. Instead, I made my way to my usual seat, turned on the nearby reading lamp, and opened Jake’s book.
“Good evening,” Caleb said.
I just raised my brows. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him.
“Reading a book tonight?” he asked. He was testing the mood.
“It’s Jake’s,” I said. “History, it seems.”
After a while, I turned a page I hadn’t read and noticed Caleb was looking at the cover.
“Not your usual read,” he said.
“Nope, but it’ll do,” I said. “Have you read it before?”
“It’s a collection of local myths.” Caleb looked at the fire. The corner of his mouth moved. “That explains why he’s been sleeping better.”
“Do you want me to try it on you?” I asked.
He glanced at me. The firelight did something to the pale green of his eyes — warmed them, made them less still than usual. “There’s one I know well,” he said. “A particular favorite. If you’d like to hear it.”
The question surprised me. Not the offer, exactly — but the way he made it. Tentative, almost. Like it mattered whether I said yes.
I considered the exchange earlier. How my frustration got the better of me.
I had every right to be annoyed with the circumstances, even more so when a patient’s life was on the line.
But even then…
I looked at Caleb’s eyes. Every time we spoke, they always carried this soft, gentle quality. It wasn’t the look of someone who chose to lie.
I remembered what Jake once said.
“Would you rather get hurt or avoid it, even if it meant missing out?”
Was that what it was for Caleb?
I eased back into my chair. I offered him a smile in return. My form of a peace flag.
“I’d like that,” I said.
Caleb didn’t read from any book. Instead, he leaned forward in his chair and told the story from memory.
“My… mother used to tell it to me,” he said.
