Page 7 of Redemption

He’s standing a couple of feet away from me, his eyes on me. I know they are even though I’m not looking up to check. I have absolutely no idea what he’s thinking when he stares at me that way.

No doubt remembering the humiliating mess of a person I used to be.

“Okay,” he says at last. “I’ll leave you alone. I need to catch a few loose ends with the security system.”

“Sounds good. Thanks.”

I remove myself into the kitchen and sit down at one of the chairs at the small table in the corner. I finish my coffee and scroll through my phone and try not to wonder what Caleb is doing and thinking at every moment.

It’s going to be different with him and the other bodyguards here. It’ll feel intrusive. Disruptive. There’s no help for that. I wouldn’t even mind that much since it will be the thing that keeps me safe, but Caleb’s presence specifically is even more disturbing to me.

It’s not simply because there’s someone new in my home, my space. It’s that it’s him. Reminding me constantly of the person I used to be. The person I never want to be again.

But maybe that’s not a bad thing. Maybe it’s time for me to confront all my past mistakes.

Hopefully I’ve grown and changed over the past three years, enough for me to face all this now. And it’s not Caleb’s fault that he happens to embody everything I’ve ever done wrong.

* * *

An hour later, I’m in the front seat of the big black secure SUV Caleb brought with him.

I’m pretty sure he expected me to sit in the back like I used to while he drives, but I don’t like being chauffeured around anymore, so I sat in the front instead.

He didn’t argue.

It takes about thirty-five minutes to drive to my health club. There’s a local YMCA with an indoor pool that’s fifteen minutes closer, but the pool and building are dingy and the lap-swimming hours there don’t work well with my schedule. So I joined a fancy health club with a nice pool and high-end facilities, and I don’t mind the longer drive.

Swimming is good for my mental health. Not just the exercise but the sustained, controlled breathing. I feel much better for the rest of the day if I can swim in the morning.

Caleb and I have been sitting in silence for the first ten minutes of the drive. I’d prefer to have some light, casual conversation, but I honestly can think of nothing to say.

The silence is so thick I actually jerk in surprise when Caleb says, “Tell me about the pool.”

Blinking a couple of times, I say, “The pool?”

“The pool at the club. The photos online were stylized, so I couldn’t get a clear sense of it. How big is it? How many doors surround it? What about windows?”

I realized he’s thinking in terms of security, and the safe, practical topic relieves me. “Oh. It’s a twenty-five-yard pool. Eight lanes. So not real big. But it’s really nice. There’s a whole wall of windows, so it gets a lot of light. There’s not a big pool deck. It’s not used for meets or anything, so no bleachers. And no free swim times or lifeguard stands since it’s only used for laps. I’m not sure how many doors there are.”

I frown, attempting to bring up a mental picture of the pool and blurry about some of the details.

I’m one of those people who intuits the world more than notices exact details. If I were the eyewitness of a crime, I’d immediately know someone was up to no good, but I’d give very bad testimony in court since I’d have trouble remembering clothes, hair coloring, height, and other details that actually matter.

I get the feel of people and situations rather than a precise view of them.

“Three maybe? The door from the main hall that members use. Then an office. Then a fire door to the outside that sets off an alarm. Oh wait—there’s also a supply-room door. I think that might be it.”

He nods, not appearing annoyed by my fuzzy recollection. “And the dressing room situation?”

“There are two. Men’s and women’s. They’re very nice—private stalls for showers and assigned lockers and good seating in front of a wall of mirrors and hair dryers on the wall.”

He frowns. “The shower stalls have real doors?”

“Yes. I can dress and everything there if that makes it easy.”

“But the shower doors exit into the dressing room, not the main hallway?”

“Yes. Oh, I see. You can’t be in the women’s dressing room with me, guarding the shower.”

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