Page 39 of The Caretaker
“You will,” Solace assured me. “I used to daydream about raising twins.”
“Before or after having Gavin?”
“After. For a while I’d sworn off the idea of ever becoming a father again. Kids are so fragile, and we’re so imperfect. I couldn’t afford to make another mistake.”
“What changed your mind?” I asked, already guessing.
“Whochanged my mind,” he corrected. I glanced pointedly over to Pauly, who was animatedly talking to a trio of drunken men at the bar. He did everything with his whole body, and I found that characteristic annoying. I found everything about him annoying. Begrudgingly, I had to admit that it had little to do with the man himself, and a lot to do with his level of comfort around Solace. Was Paulythe one?
“What? No, absolutely not,” he said after trailing my gaze. “I love Pauly, but I can only take him in small doses.” He scooted out of the booth without putting an end to my curiosity, and something told me that was intentional. “Come on, master dart thrower. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
“My money’s on the hot blond,” Pauly drawled as we passed by the bar, winking when I scowled.
I was surprisingly good at it, but the hot blond did win, five-to-one. We headed back to our booth, laughing as I hounded Solace for a rematch.
“Now, why would I risk losing my trophy?” He held up a dart with a ribbon attached that read “winner.” Apparently all the winners got one, and they took the honor seriously.
“Winning looks good on you, gorgeous,” Pauly said, placing a glass of red wine in front of Solace and a juice box in front of me. “Apple juice for the designated driver,” he explained.
“Can’t you take a hint?” I asked.
“No, but I was hoping I could take him home with me.”
“He’s coming home with me,” I snapped.
“Don’t you mean thatyou’regoing home withhim?”
“Same difference,” I growled, feeling territorial when I shouldn’t have, feeling thrown off when Pauly’s arrogant smile turned soft. How did he know where we were going anyway?
“Pauly,” Solace said quietly, resting a hand on his friend’s forearm. I tracked the touch, feeling even more confused when Pauly backed away from it.
“Just trying to help,” he said, the crass act vanishing. For the first time, I understood he truly cared for Solace. Maybe it was in the shutter of sadness that fell over his eyes when he turned to his friend.
“You aren’t helping,” Solace said, not unkindly. I wondered what it was that Pauly thought he needed to help with. “We’ll take the check,” Solace added.
“The check?” Pauly scoffed. “Your meal is on the house, as always.”
“The check,” I enunciated in a tone that left no room for argument. My ego wouldn’t allow for the man who’d so flagrantly flirted with Solace to cover our meal. A teasing smirk hit his lips. He left and returned with the bill.
“It was good seeingbothof you,” he said, before leaving again. I shrugged, chalking it up to him apologizing for screwing with our night out, and making it clear that the apology applied to the both of us.
We rode back in thoughtful silence, unloading the bags, then separating to shower before meeting up in the kitchen for our nightly tea.
“You’re awfully quiet,” Solace said, placing our empty mugs in the sink before leaning his lower back against the counter and folding his arms. I remained several feet away, seated at the island. “I’m sorry about Pauly. I should have taken you somewhere else.”
“It’s not about Pauly,” I whispered. “It’s about how he made me feel.”
“How did he make you feel?”
“Jealous. Territorial. Possessive of you.”
“Is that such a bad thing?” he asked in a tentative voice.
“Shouldn’t it be?” I pushed up from my stool, pacing, trying to remember my purpose for being there in the first place. “I haven’t thought about my wife in days. Not once. It’s been even longer since I’ve dreamed about her. I came here hoping to regain the last two years I’d lost so I could remember that time spent with her. I want to remember everything, of course, like the time Leland and I snuck out at fifteen to attend our first house party, instead of struggling to bring the fuzzy memory of it into sharp focus as he recounts it to me. But most of all, I want to remember every second spent with her, because she was an amazing person. I want to remember every amazing thing she did. Our child would have been lucky to have her as a mom, and I’m starting to forget that.”
Solace flinched at the mention of the child I never got to know, reminding me of his loss. I never dwelled on that specific part of my pain, because losing Stacey encompassed losing them both. But also, I hated to see the look that currently resided in Solace’s eyes—unbearable heartache.
“My wife was amazing,” I repeated, hating that it sounded rehearsed. I needed to hold on to that, to weaponize it to force distance between myself and the man in front of me. I grabbed hold of the wedding rings hanging around my neck. The rings that hung between my future and my past. The rings that hung between Solace and me now.
