Page 22 of Penalty to the Heart

“You don’t have to be rude about it. You didn’t see me either,” I snap before lowering my gaze from his, but not fast enough to avoid seeing the slight crinkle of guilt in his brow.

“Fuck,” he mutters before he lowers himself to my level, quickly helping me gather all my belongings from the floor. “You’re right. Sorry. This place… it… just gets to you, you know?”

My forehead creases at his uncoerced confession.

From Lenny’s description of Caleb, I half expected him to be this pompous jerk with no regard for anyone’s feelings but his own. However, the man who is now on his hands and knees helping me put away my belongings doesn’t strike me as someone who only cares about himself. He looks genuinely sorry for his outburst, doing everything he can to make it right.

But then again, first impressions can be deceiving.

“I get it. Hospitals aren’t exactly a breezy field trip,” I retort with a sympathetic tone.

Caleb doesn’t say anything, preferring to keep his head hung low as he picks up the last of my things.

“Thank you,” I say after I’ve tucked everything back into my bag.

Again, he doesn’t reply, preferring to surprise me by extending his hand to help me get up off my knees.

I hesitate for a split second before I gingerly place my hand in his and let him pull me up.

I only realize my mistake as I stand just mere inches away from him, my heart falling to the pit of my stomach when confronted with the absence of light in his eyes.

No warmth or life in him at all.

A sad sight to see in someone so young.

I have an urge to ask him if he’s alright since it’s apparent that he’s not, but I lose my chance to do so when a nurse stops right in front of us.

“Hi,” she greets, directing her smile at Caleb. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“You have?” he asks, his eyes widening in alarm. “Is everything alright with—”

“One of my colleagues said you were here,” she cuts him off. “Would you mind giving me an autograph? It’s for my boyfriend.”

Suddenly, the sullen man before me disappears, and in his place, a carefree counterfeit arises.

“Of course. What’s his name?” Caleb asks with a forced grin as the nurse quickly hands him a pen and a trading card to sign.

“Tom.” She giggles excitedly. “His name is Tom.”

“Lucky Tom.” He winks at her flirtatiously.

I stand there speechless, watching the whole absurd interaction go down.

It’s as if he’s morphed into another person.

I had never met someone who wore their suffering so transparently and yet managed to effortlessly camouflage it at will. One second, he looked like the world held no joy for him, and the next, he’s acting as if he’s right as rain, thrilled to placate complete strangers in their need for his time and attention.

The whole scene is so upsetting that it feels like I’m witnessing the very death of his spirit.

“There you go.” He smiles once more, displaying a practiced grin that I suspect he has rehearsed countless times in front of a mirror to mask any hint of distress.

“Thanks! Tom is going to freak when I come home tonight with this.” The nurse beams at him. “I… um… can I get a selfie with you, and maybe a hug, too?” she asks, batting her eyelashes at him, no longer thinking about her boyfriend.

“Sure thing, sweetheart,” Caleb relents, his fake smile stretching as he engulfs her in a side hug, allowing her to snap the photo with her phone.

His cheerful disposition fades slightly as the bothersome nurse unashamedly bows her head to scrutinize the picture for Instagram-worthy quality. But as soon as she lifts her head up at Caleb, his all-American winning smile is once again stitched tightly to his face.

It’s oddly troubling how well-versed he is at hiding his true feelings at the drop of a dime.

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