Page 27 of Keeping Caroline
“Caroline?” Tristan’s voice caused me to flinch, and I had no choice but to turn around and look at him. Dressed in a clean pair of dark jeans, beads of water still clung to his toned chest. One thing I couldn’t deny was how handsome he was, even when he wasn’t trying. “Do you need any help?”
“Uh, no, I’m fine,” I replied, trying to sound casual despite the way my pulse raced at the sight of him. “Breakfast is almost ready.”
“Alright.” Lips tipping up in a smile, he pulled a black T-shirt on and crossed the room, taking a seat at the table. “It smells good.”
“Thank you.” My fingers fumbled with the toaster, nearly dropping a slice of bread onto the floor.
When everything was done, I plated the eggs and toast and brought it to the table, forcing my lips to lift in a half smile. “Here you go.”
His eyes locked on me as he took a sip of his coffee and smiled at me again, my blasphemous mind remembering how those lips felt all over my body. There was nowhere they hadn’t kissed. “Thanks.”
For the next several minutes, we ate in silence, the air thick with unspoken words, and I couldn’t help but steal glances at him as he ate, wishing things could be less complicated.
“Tristan, about last night...” I began, the words lodging in my throat.
Setting his fork down, he placed his hand on mine across the table, looking directly into my eyes. The way he seemed to look straight through my skin left me so much more vulnerable than I ever allowed myself to be. “We don’t have to talk about it right now if you’re not ready.”
I closed my eyes briefly. My heart ached with uncertainty, longing for resolution but fearing what it might mean. “Are you sure?”
“Of course,” he assured me, his gaze softening. “I told you before—I don’t want you to feel forced into anything you’re not comfortable with. I’ll be here when you’re ready.”
A heavy sigh escaped my lips, the weight of our unresolved conversation settling on my shoulders like an oppressive fog, but before I could respond, the sound of a car engine and laughter outside froze my thoughts in place. Evie.
Before I was ready, the front door burst open and Evie raced into the kitchen, a toothy smile glued across her face. “Mommy, look what Uncle Ethan gave me!” In her hand was a pink unicorn, its mane striped with a rainbow of bright colors. Ethan and Scarlett followed close behind, a box of pastries in Ethan’s hand from my favorite bakery. The fragile moment between Tristan and I had been shattered into a million pieces and scattered to the four winds. My stomach dropped as I realized we were no longer alone—no longer able to settle things, even if we wanted to. At least not for the moment. I swallowed the lump in my throat and forced a smile, pushing aside my turbulent emotions to focus on Evie.
I held out my arms, wrapping them around her as she rushed forward. “I love it, nugget. It’s very pretty.”
Murmuring a quick hello, Tristan walked to the sink and began washing the dishes. I bit my lip, a pang of guilt hitting me at his thoughtfulness. He always seemed to know what needed to be done, anticipating problems before they arose. If only I could be so pragmatic about our relationship—or whatever this was.
Seeming unphased by the tension in the room—or at least pretending to be—Ethan and Scarlett settled in at the table, Scarlett helping Evie assemble a puzzle on the worn wooden surface. I busied myself making fresh coffee, the domesticity of the moment at odds with the riot of emotions inside me.
We fell into an easy rhythm, the conversation flowing around me while I remained apart, trapped in the turmoil of my thoughts. Tristan’s eyes met mine across the room, a question in their depths that I didn’t dare answer. Instead, I looked away, a flush heating my cheeks.
The day passed in a blur of forced cheer and pretend normalcy. Baking cookies with Scarlett, playing board games with Evie, all while stealing glances at Tristan and wondering if I was the only one affected by the change in our dynamic. His affection seemed unchanged, a steady warmth that did nothing to alleviate my guilt.
Once night fell and Evie was tucked into bed, an awkward silence descended. Tristan and Ethan had been working on my cottage’s security system all day, but after dinner, we’d all sat down in the living room in front of the television. Ethan put a fight on, and although he and Tristan seemed completely engaged in the violence on the screen, I could not get the thoughts of the night before out of my mind.
Feeling like I may just climb out of my skin, I stood abruptly, nearly knocking over my glass of wine. “I should get to bed. Evie will be up early.”
From across the room, Tristan’s gaze was piercing, seeing far too much. I refused to meet his eyes, instead bidding a hasty goodnight to Ethan and Scarlett. If Tristan came to me after they left, I didn’t know if I would have the strength to turn him away. The thought filled me with equal parts anticipation and dread. I was in too deep and there seemed no straightforward way out. The path before me was shrouded in shadows, the future uncertain. All I knew was that everything had changed.
For the next few hours, I tossed and turned, sleep eluding me. As I waited for the darkness to take me, the clock ticked past midnight, then an hour later.
Finally giving up, I crept down the hall in search of a glass of water. The house was dark and silent, moonlight filtering through the windows to cast shadows across the floor.
As I entered the kitchen, I froze. Tristan stood by the sink, his shirtless back to me. He turned to the sound of my footsteps, eyes gleaming behind his glasses.
Unsure what to say, I licked my lips, my heart stuttering at the sight of him. The air between us was so charged, it pricked my skin.
Setting down his glass, he took a step toward me. “Caroline.”
I shook my head, pulse racing. “Don’t. Please.“ If he touched me, if he said my name like that again, I knew my resolve would crumble. In my frame of mind, I couldn’t give in to my desire to be close to him, no matter how badly I might have wanted to.
“You regret what happened.” His voice was flat, guarded. It was impossible for me to miss the hurt in his eyes before he turned away. “I understand. It won’t happen again.”
“Tristan, I—” The words caught in my throat. How could I possibly explain the tangled mess of emotions inside me? It was too complicated—impossible to put into words.
When he looked at me again, his expression was clear, which only shattered my heart more, because I knew he was doing it for me. “You don’t owe me anything, Caroline. I’m the one who crossed the line. I took advantage of you at a vulnerable moment, and I regret that more than I can say.” Setting his glass in the sink, he dipped his chin, a sad smile pulling up the side of his mouth. “Goodnight, Superwoman.”