CHAPTER SIXTEEN - TARA

My alarm went off early the next morning. I groaned and rolled over, burying my face in the pillow. Caleb stirred beside me but didn’t wake until I clicked the side of my phone, stopping the alarm and leaving us in the middle of an early morning silence.

I sighed and rolled onto my back. I looked over at Caleb who was groaning. He shifted uncomfortably and rubbed his face. His eyes flickered open and found mine, overwhelming me with their green depths.

I grinned as he slowly adjusted to consciousness. He smiled back and leaned forward to kiss me.

“Good morning,” he said when we pulled apart.

“Good morning,” I said. “I’m sorry my alarm woke you.”

“It’s okay.” He shrugged. “Had to wake up sometime. Are you working this morning?”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “I have a session in an hour.”

“Fuck that,” Caleb said, laughing. “Blow it off.”

“I can’t blow it off,” I said. I rolled my eyes and pushed myself out of bed. “Imagine if I did that to you, for your session tonight.”

“I don’t have to imagine,” he said, his voice dripping with a cocky confidence. “You’d never blow me off.”

“I wouldn’t?” I raised my eyebrows.

“Well,” He grinned. “At least not my PT sessions.”

His eyes darted down to where his dick was making a tent in the bedsheets. When he looked back at me, he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. I rolled my eyes and laughed. After all these years, he was still the same Caleb. Cocky as shit and not remotely apologetic for it.

“Not a chance,” I said. “I have to get ready.”

“You’re no fun.” He pouted as I ignored him and hurried into the bathroom.

It wasn’t easy to leave Caleb’s bed. He looked especially sexy in the morning. His hair was all over the place, and his eyes still held the shadow of his dreams. It was damn near impossible to pull myself away from him and get ready for my day.

Still, I knew I couldn’t shirk my responsibilities. My job was important and without it, I would lose all my health benefits as well as my opportunity to realize my full dream of being a licensed PT. After my diagnosis, that was something I couldn’t risk. As I brushed my teeth, staring at myself in the mirror, the reality of my situation sunk in all over again.

I spat out the toothpaste and rinsed my mouth, trying not to let fear overwhelm me. Spending last night with Caleb was exactly what I needed. I had finally put my worries aside and just relaxed. He took control and forced me to think about something other than my illness. It wasn’t easy at first. While we were at the bar, I kept glancing at Stephanie, wondering how the hell I would tell her the news. Caleb knew I was distracted and he spent all night trying to pull my attention back to him. Sitting in the car, I wanted to tell him the truth. The words were on the tip of my tongue, but I changed my mind. No matter how much I loved him, I just wasn’t ready to share this with him. Or anyone. Just thinking about telling my father was enough to make me break out in nervous hives. Part of me wanted to run away, to leave town, and seek treatment elsewhere.

Deep down, I knew that wasn’t an option. Not only would that destroy my father, but it wouldn’t be fair to Caleb. We’d been through so much together, and now I couldn’t turn my back on him. He wouldn’t understand. I would break his heart like he broke mine. No matter what I was going through, I knew I could never do that.

I finished getting ready quickly, eager to be away from Caleb so I could think. When he wasn’t around, I missed him fiercely. But when he was sitting next to me, I felt guilty for not sharing the truth with him. I felt like I couldn’t win. As I pulled my hair back into a ponytail, I opened the bathroom door and stepped into Caleb’s bedroom. He was no longer lying on his bed, and his crutches were gone. I frowned and went to look for him in the living room.

Before I made it to him, I heard his voice drifting into the bedroom. I stopped quickly when I could hear what he was saying.

“I lost the last bottle,” he said. “I’m not sure where it went, but I need a refill.”

He fell silent for a second.

“I know,” he said. “But Dr. McGee told me to call if I have any problems. The pain has been getting worse. I can’t ignore it anymore.”

He paused again, listening to the person on the other end of the phone.

“Today?” he asked. “Thank you. I’ll pick them up this morning.”

My heart was racing when I heard him hang up the phone. There was something about that phone call that didn’t sound right.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped into the living room just as Caleb came around the corner. He smiled and walked over to me, using his crutches for support.

“What was that about?” I asked.

“What?” He frowned.

“That phone call,” I said.

“Oh,” he said lightly. “I just lost my painkillers, so I called Dr. McGee’s office for a new bottle.”

“You lost them?” I asked suspiciously.

“Yeah.” He nodded.

I stared at him, waiting for him to explain further but he didn’t. I hadn’t seen Caleb take a single painkiller since he was discharged, not even during his physical therapy sessions. Still, just because I hadn’t seen it, that didn’t mean it wasn’t happening.

I felt my stomach tighten as I stared into his eyes, trying desperately to read his mind. As a PT, I’d been trained to recognize the signs of addiction, but with Caleb, I didn’t know where to begin. I knew him so well and yet the way he kept fidgeting made my suspicions grow.

“Are you sure you lost them?” I asked.

“What does that mean?” His eyes narrowed.

“It’s just a question,” I said.

“Yeah,” he said. “But why are you asking it?”

“It’s my job,” I said. “If a patient is showing signs of abusing prescription drugs, then I need to ask.”

“Are you fucking serious?” he scoffed.

“You don’t need to get defensive,” I said sharply.

“This is ridiculous,” he said. “I’m not abusing my pills, Tara. I’m in pain, and I lost the damn bottle. That’s it.”

“Okay.” I knew arguing was pointless.

We said our goodbyes and I left for work, still unsure of whether I believed him. Caleb wasn’t the type to lie, but if he really was abusing his drugs, then he wouldn’t just come right out and say it.

I wanted to believe him. As the day progressed, I felt guilty for accusing him. I wished I could take it back, but I didn’t want to apologize over the phone. He had a physical therapy session scheduled for that night, so I decided to wait and bring it up then.

He walked through the doors of the PT building at exactly seven o’clock. I smiled and walked quickly over to him, standing on my tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips.

“I see you aren’t mad at me anymore,” he said without emotion.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I was out of line.”

“Yeah, you were.”

He was still angry, but as we got into the session, his mood began to brighten. His muscle control was better than ever, and he was walking without the crutches more and more. I asked him to let go of the bars a few times, and he did amazing. He didn’t stumble a single time, but when we were finished, his face was contorted in a grimace.

“Are you in pain?” I asked, worried that I’d pushed him too hard.

“I didn’t get a chance to pick up my pills this morning,” he said. “I still can’t drive.”

My guilt worsened. It was obvious that Caleb’s pain was real. I felt like shit that I’d questioned him. I realized my worries were about myself and not him. I was scared about my cancer, and instead of dealing with it, I took it out on him.

“I’ll drive you,” I said quickly. “Come on. We’ll go right now.”

“Don’t you have to work?” he asked, glancing toward my desk.

I shook my head. “I can finish up in the morning.”

I handed Caleb his crutches and led the way to my car. Caleb slid into the passenger seat, and I tossed his crutches in the back. We drove through town toward the pharmacy. After we had his pills, I took Caleb home.

We lingered in my car outside of his apartment, neither of us saying a word. He was still mad at me for accusing him of abusing his painkillers, and I was still worried about my health. There was a giant wall between us, and nothing I did seemed to put a dent in it.

I turned to look at him. He was already watching me, his eyebrows pulled together and his forehead creased with concern. There were a million things I wanted to tell him, but when I opened my mouth, no words came out. He waited a few minutes, hoping I would say something. When I didn’t, he sighed and kissed me.

“I’ll see you later, Tara.”

“Goodnight.”

I watched him disappear inside his apartment, the door swinging shut behind him. It took me five minutes to drive away, and when I did, I instantly regretted it.