Page 18 of See It Through
“We had it,” I said with adamance. “Never forgot it, and I missed the hell out of you too. I met a lot of people in my travels, but I haven’t been close to anyone since you. I’m sorry for abandoning our friendship. Sorry for not sharing my plans. I’m even more sorry I lost your number and couldn’t call to tell you all that when I got my head out of my ass.”
He sucked in a deep breath, his broad chest rising toward the ceiling. When he exhaled, he looked at me, calm and unreadable.
“All right.”
I cocked my head. “All right?”
“Yeah. I get it. You had to go. It wasn’t personal. I’m not gonna waste any more time being angry at you. Not about that anyway.”
My mouth twitched. “Appreciate it, but let’s get it all out in the open now. Are you angry at me over something else?”
He polished off his last fry drenched in ketchup. “Can’t say I’m pleased you left my sister to tend to your sick father and take care of everything when he died. Not that she wouldn’t have been there had you shown up. Wild horses couldn’t have dragged her away.”
He folded his thick arms, and I braced for what I knew he was about to ask. “But you should’ve been there. It’s messed up you weren’t. Where were you? Why show up now and not then?”
Unthinking, I reached for the scar on the side of my head, dragging my fingertips over it. Caleb tracked my movements, his eyes narrowing like he was trying to piece together a puzzle dumped in front of him.
I wasn’t going to leave him guessing. He wanted answers, and I owed it to him to give him that. “When I left, I was a kid. In my mind, I was never coming back. I didn’t have the experience to think about what would happen to my dad when he got older. Didn’t consider him getting sick, who might take care of him, none of that. When it comes down to it, I would’ve been here if I could have, Cay.”
He jerked his chin toward my scar. “Your reason has something to do with you looking like shit warmed over?”
I laughed despite the seriousness of the subject. Leave it to Caleb to never pull punches—a trait that ran in their family.
“It has everything to do with it. I was overseas, documenting the coup in—”
Caleb winced. “Yeah. I’ve been watching the news. Ugly stuff going on over there.”
“Right,” I agreed, though there was ugly stuff going on in every corner of the world. It just so happened this coup had been getting the most media attention. “I can’t tell you what exactly happened, just what I was told when I woke up. The vehicle I was in with three other journalists was inadvertently targeted by militia. We took fire, our driver maneuvered to avoid being hit, and we flipped into a ravine. Don’t know how I survived it. Only me and two others made it out. The driver and one of my colleagues died immediately. They didn’t think I’d make it either.”
“Fuck,” he gritted out. “Your head took the impact?”
“Among other parts, yeah. I was in a medically induced coma for a week, then spent a month in the hospital after that recovering. I was too out of it to be concerned about where my phone was or anything going on in the outside world.”
His eyes darted around my face, almost frantic. “How are you doing now? Should you have even traveled?”
“Don’t worry about me. My doctor gave me clearance to be here.”
“But you’re not all right, are you?”
“I’m as good as can be, considering I was almost blown up.” I tried to laugh it off, but it sounded forced even to me. Going with the truth was easier. “I’ve been having migraines and some blurred vision, which is common with the level of concussion I sustained. The doctors over there assured me it’d get better with time as long as I don’t reinjure myself.”
He looked at me long and hard then leaned forward, bringing himself closer. “You’re not going back there.”
He said it as a statement, but I answered anyway.
“No, I don’t plan on it. I’m not sure what my next move is, but I use my brain too often to risk fucking it up permanently.”
It killed me to acknowledge that. To give up in the middle of a story was almost unthinkable. I’d never done it, no matter how dire the conditions. But things had changed, and when it came down to it, my choice had been taken from me.
Caleb took this in with a level stare and slow, steady breathing. When he was ready, he spoke again. “You didn’t know Graham was dying.”
“No, I didn’t. By the time I had a new phone and the wherewithal to listen to my messages, he was already gone.” I pressed the heel of my palm into my temple. “I would’ve been here. It wasn’t Hannah’s or anyone else’s burden to take on.”
“She never saw Graham as a burden.”
“Right.” I nodded, even though, to me, that was all he’d been.
“You had different experiences with him,” Caleb explained. “The old man cleaned himself up. Got right with the town, changed Hannah’s life for the better. When I say she didn’t see him as a burden, you need to understand I mean it. Her Graham wasn’t your piece-of-shit dad. He waited until it was too late to change, but he did, Rem. He did.”