Page 6 of Wishes for August
Occasionally, Caleb would run his hands through his auburn hair, the muscles in his biceps bulging. The longer we stayed in the room together, the more I had this desire to lean forward and brush my fingers against the veins in his arm. I could imagine his skin would be warm and smooth under my hands. I wondered how he would react to my touch. That kind of thinking though was dangerous because soon enough I was thinking about having those same arms tied behind his back while I….No, no, stop August. Time to leave.
I stood up abruptly and his gaze shot up to me.
“Are you okay?” he asked, standing from his desk, his hand moving ever so slightly forward as though he was reaching for me.
“Yes, just remembered I have to meet someone, sorry." I took a step back from his desk and gathered up my things.
“Oh, sure, sure. Well thanks for all your help this evening,” Caleb responded softly.
“No problem,” I said, turning back to him as I reached his door. “See you tomorrow, Boss Man.” My eyes widened, the nickname had just slipped out of my mouth. Looking at him with the intention of apologising for my unprofessional faux pas, I noticed a rosy blush rising up his neck. He liked that? Oh, this was very interesting. Backtracking on the apology idea, I smirked at him instead, watching as his face heated even more, his hands pressed in fists against his sides.
I didn’t say anything more, deciding instead to make a swift exit. The evening was cool, cooler than it had been this morning, and I pulled my coat tighter around my body as I made my way to the Underground station. The entire way home, I thought about the blush that crept up Caleb’s neck and his sparkling green eyes. I wondered if his blush would run lower down his body if I peeled off his tight white shirt. There was something about Caleb Winters that made my blood heat and my dick thicken.
I would love to unravel him.
Chapter 4
August - Age Eighteen
Eighteen. It was my birthday. I was officially an adult. Today, my heart so foolishly told me, today is the day my mother remembers she has a son. The day she takes me in her arms and holds me, tells me she is sorry and that I was always enough for her. Today, she will realise that she missed so much of my childhood by keeping to herself and shutting me out.
I had played the moment in my mind so many times. Her, coming to me with tears in her eyes. Reaching out for me, gripping my arms and pulling me closer. Resting her head against my shoulder as she breathed me in. Whispering how sorry she was, how she was going to make things right. How she never meant to hurt me, to abandon me. How she loved me and always has.
I wished for it. Every year I wished. Every year on my birthday, I would close my eyes and wish - put it out into the universe -that I would have a family again. That my life would be filled with warmth and love and care again. The way it used to be. But every year, those wishes failed to come true and with every failed wish, my belief that something good would happen to me began to dwindle.
I had watched Branson turn eighteen only a few months ago. His parents had thrown him a big party and had bought him some incredible gifts. But it wasn’t the gifts I was envious of. It was the way his mum squeezed him tight to her side while he cut his birthday cake. Her face glowed with happiness as did his. He had what I longed for every day of my sad existence.
Today, today was the day.
“Mum!” I shouted as I walked into the house after school. I was in my final year of school and heading off to university soon. I was getting away, leaving this little Cornish town and moving to London. I was ready to explore the big city, lose myself in a crowd. I had convinced myself that if I was surrounded by people, even strangers, then I wouldn’t truly be alone. How can you be alone in a city of approximately eight million?
“Mum,” I tried again but still got no reply. I trudged up to her room but she wasn’t there. Her bed was made, and I could smell her floral perfume in the air. Looking around I noticed nothing had changed. Her wedding photo was still on her bedside table. They looked so happy that day. I could see the love written all over their faces. It was the perfect picture of the perfect moment. Looking at it made my chest ache. How can you be in love one moment and the next, you’re not. Is love really so fickle?
I left her room and walked over to mine, smelling her floral perfume in the air there too. She didn’t often come into my room but I had noticed hints of her here from time to time. A straightened comforter, a folded jumper. Small changes that showed she still existed in my space even if I barely saw her. Onmy desk, I found a note and some cash. My eyes stung as I read the note.
August,
I know I promised we would get dinner tonight, but I can’t. Something came up. Here’s some money, maybe you and some friends can get a pizza?
“Some friends,” I muttered under my breath. If she knew me, if she even took one second to get to know me she would know that I had a total of one friend. One. Branson was all I had. No one at school was interested in being my friend. Apparently, no one wanted to befriend “that kid who always looks pissed off.” It didn’t help that I was a little small for my age and that I showed little interest in any of the social activities that my peers did.
It also turned out that the more people invited you out and the more you turned them down, the less they invited you in the future. Until one day they just stop all together. Kids were never overtly mean to me - they simply avoided me. I was unremarkable and not worth the effort.
But it’s not like I hadn’t tried to socialise and make friends but mustering up any form of happiness just felt exhausting. I was lucky Bran stuck by my grumpy ass. I was convinced that it was because he was holding on to the person I used to be. The fun loving August of the past. Or maybe he just truly loved me - I found that hard to believe though. If my own parents couldn’t love me, how could I expect anyone else to?
So, I did what I had done every year on my birthday. I sat on my bed, and I closed my eyes, fighting back the tears. Usually, I would sit here and wish for a better life, a life of the past. Onlythat year was different. That year I vowed never to make a stupid wish again.
No more wishes for August.
Wishes never come true. I was an adult now, I needed to stop being so naive.
Chapter 5
Caleb
“Have you spoken to her since she left?” My sister, Ashley, asked from the other end of the line during our weekly catch up. We were pretty close but with her chasing her dreams on the other side of the world, we didn’t see each other often. She had moved to Cape Town when her travel blog took off and she spent most of her time there reviewing restaurants and walking on the beach with her boyfriend and dog. She was happy though, which made me happy. She never wanted to follow in our father’s footsteps and though I am sure she used her trust fund to finance her lifestyle in South Africa, I know she was also really proud to be making it on her own.
Given the time difference, Ashley often called me around seven or so in the morning London time. Only today, I also had a meeting I needed to be in for, so I had come in much earlier thanusual. I took my seat at my desk and watched the day brighten outside the windows.