Diary of a Wedding Planner in Love (Tales Behind the Veils Book 2) (23 page)

Home Again

He was there. Standing at the first available spot past security. My heart leapt at the sight of him, but anger and hurt slapped it back down and threatened it not to leap again. He moved forward to scoop me up in a big bear hug, and I stiffened. It seemed we'd been separated for much longer than a weekend.

He looked like hell. Like he'd been through the wringer.

"Oh my God, Ty. Are you okay? Are you alright?" He released me and held me back to look me up and down, then squeezed me to him again. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I tried to get back to you. I tried to get on the plane. They wouldn't let me. I'm so sorry."

I shoved lightly against his chest. I needed space to breathe. I was tired. My emotions were raw. Anger simmered beneath the surface, battling for air alongside my wounded heart. One minute I wanted to burst into tears and cling to him, and the next I wanted to kick him in the nuts and walk away.

"What do you mean they wouldn't let you? Who's they?"

"Security. TSA. I walked past the security point without realizing what a pain in the ass that would be. I thought they'd let me skip the lines and the scanners since I'd already been through, but no. I tried to explain to them my flight was leaving and I didn't have time to wait. I guess I got a little belligerent."

He'd been belligerent with me that whole day. It took no stretch of the imagination to believe he'd been hostile with other people, too. Especially people standing in his way.

Numbness crept over me as his words sank in. I'd been furious with him all weekend, and the fury was the buffer I needed to get by. Not to mention the reason I made the choices I did while in Paris. But if he'd tried to get back to me—if he hadn't left me to travel alone on purpose—then it was a whole new ballgame. Uh-oh.

"They pulled me out to detain me, which definitely did nothing to improve my mood. When I heard my name announced for final boarding, I pretty much went ballistic. One thing led to another, and I kind of shoved a TSA agent. It appears the authorities don't look too highly on that sort of behavior. They had me in handcuffs before you were even off the ground."

I gasped. "Cabe! Are you okay?"

"I've been better, Buttercup. They held me here for about eleven hours questioning me to determine if I was a terror threat, and then when I passed that test, they arrested me for simple battery and sent me downtown. I couldn’t appear before a judge until Saturday morning, and then it was late Saturday afternoon before everything got processed for me to be released. I have to say, I met some really interesting folks in lock-up, and I have a date with a judge coming up, but I'm fine, all things considered. Just happy to see you and finally have you back in my arms. What about you? You okay? Please know I did everything I could to get back to you."

I didn't know what to say. Guilt washed over me as I considered my actions of the last few days. I worried he might see shame written all over my face. At the same time, I was still angry. Obviously I felt bad he'd been arrested, but it was his own damned fault. If he hadn't stormed off at the gate, if he hadn't walked past security, if he hadn't shoved the guy. My head swam just thinking about what a mess he'd made. Not to mention the extension of the mess on my end.

"As soon as I got out and could get to a phone Saturday, I tried to call you. It went straight to voice mail. Oh, do you have my phone, by the way?"

I nodded and fished it out of my purse.

He took it from me and his hand lingered on mine.

"Did you not get my messages? I'm so sorry, Ty. I'll make it up to you, I swear."

I managed a hesitant smile but couldn't muster much more. It made me feel better to know he tried to come back. It felt good to hear him apologize, and I was relieved he came to the airport to pick me up.

But I felt detached. So much had happened since the last time I saw him. I didn't know where to go from there. What to tell him about Paris. About Jack. What to say about his arrest. Being so damned tired didn't help, of course. I just wanted to go home and sleep. Too much to think about.

"So, how was Paris?" he asked once we were settled in the car and out of the garage. His voice was tentative and quiet, his hesitation clear.

"Good." What else was I supposed to say? It was fabulous? Life-changing? I'll never be the same after this trip? I had one of the best experiences of my life. And oh yeah, I met the coolest guy.

"Did you take lots of pictures?" I could hear wistfulness in his voice, and I knew it pained him to know I'd seen Paris without him. The trip he'd planned. The places he'd wanted to show me. Not only wasn't he there, but someone else was. Not that he knew that yet.

Guilt racked me. There I was, enjoying the sights and living it up in Paris, hand in hand with a stranger and writing about my surreal snow globe break from life, and the whole time Cabe had been sitting in a jail cell and worried about getting back to me.

"Yeah, I think I got some good shots." Talk about awkward. What could I tell him about the trip? Anything I talked about, anything I described or got excited about, would only serve to hurt him and make it worse that he wasn't there with me.

My exhilarating, life-altering weekend suddenly seemed less exciting. I waffled between guilt and happy memories. I mean, like I said before, it wasn't my fault he'd gotten mad and stormed away. I didn't make him go past the security checkpoint as he wandered in anger.

Hello?! Duh! They have signs clearly marking the point of no return. It certainly wasn't my fault he'd shoved someone and landed in jail.

I felt guilty that I'd thought Cabe deserted me, though. That I'd tossed him aside on the trip any time my thoughts tried to resurrect him, and then sought comfort from someone else without fully knowing the circumstances or giving Cabe a chance to explain.

How could I love him and turn away from him so easily? If I truly loved him, wouldn't I have given him the benefit of the doubt? Wouldn't I have tried to reach him once I landed in Paris?

My mind sought to put the blame back on him because that was easier. I replayed the airport scene in my head, reminding myself of how angry I'd been and what an ass he'd been.

"What was wrong with you, Cabe? You weren't yourself. You haven't been yourself for a while. You don't normally go around punching people or shoving people, but you've been in, like, three altercations in the past month. Why won't you talk to me? Tell me what's going on."

He sighed, his hands gripping and releasing the steering wheel as he weighed his words.

"It's a long story, Ty. I know you're tired. It can wait."

Frustration and anger sparked immediately as the old familiar tension settled over me.

"Bullshit. You keep saying that, but it can't wait. I need to know what's going on with you. I think you owe me an explanation."

"You're right. But it's late, and we've both had a long weekend. Can we talk tomorrow? I'll answer anything you want to know. Open book."

As much as I wanted to demand he tell me right then, I knew he was right. I was whipped. I'd been up almost twenty-four hours and despite the few hours I dozed on the plane, my body was still on Paris time. I didn't know if I could even stay awake to hear what he had to say, much less be able to process it.

I gave us both a reprieve.

"Okay. Tomorrow then."

We rode in silence the rest of the way to my apartment, and I told him goodbye at the door.

So now here I lay. Unable to sleep and unable to stop wondering what he will tell me tomorrow. Then where do we go from there?

Monday, March 10th

He came over around noon with lunch, which paled in comparison to the rich food I'd grown accustomed to. I'd had a restless night with my body's time clock jet-lagged out of whack and my brain wrestling with the issues at hand. I didn't know what he intended to tell me, but I knew it must be pretty serious to have caused us so many problems.

On top of which, I had some 'fessing up of my own to do. My time with Jack in Paris ate at me. I had no idea what to tell Cabe. I felt dishonest not telling him, but how could I explain without hurting him?

Cabe seemed on edge. Uneasy. Something to do with the talk we were about to have, I'm sure. He ate his lunch standing at the kitchen counter, then he went to the sliding door to look out and then to the couch. No longer had he sat than he was back up and to the sliding door again.

I wanted to put him at ease and make him relax, but I was all keyed up myself in anticipation of what his news might be and what to do with my own confessions.

"Okay, Cable. Let's talk." I settled into the comfy chair with my feet tucked beneath me, my heart pounding as I listened.

He took a deep breath and let it out with a whistle. "Alright. What do you wanna know?"

I smiled at him. "I don't know. Whatever is bothering you. Whatever makes you drop off the face of the earth and not call me. Whatever's making you run hot and cold. Making you want to punch people in bars and parades and airports."

"Where the hell do I start? It's not a simple answer. Not like it's one thing."

"Okay. Something happened Valentine's weekend when you had family in town. You said it was a long story, and you never told me. Start there."

"Right. That. Well, you already know my father left my mother when I was a kid."

"Yeah. When you were three, right?"

He nodded. "And you know he left her because he was already married."

"Yeah." I didn't understand why this would have anything to do with us.

"Well, you also know I don't talk about him a lot because I don't want to have anything to do with the asshole. I've probably told you more than I've ever told anyone else, which isn't much. I prefer not to think of him at all."

He stood and moved to the sliding door, running his hands through his hair in frustration.

"I spent my whole life without a dad, Ty. He left my mother the first time when I was only six months old. He came back when I was about two, just long enough to get her pregnant with Galen and give me a couple of fuzzy memories, and then he took off again just before my sister was born. We were expendable. We weren't his real family, so we didn't matter."

"Which means he's a jackass, and you were better off without him."

"Yeah, but growing up, I didn't know that. I hoped for a while he'd come back. That he'd choose us. But then as I got older, I just got mad. Every ballgame I pitched without a dad in the stands. Every time a friend's dad invited me along on a father-son camping trip or fishing excursion and I felt like a third wheel. At least kids with divorced parents got every other weekend. Or a few days at Christmas. I even told people my father was dead for a while, but that got back to my mom and she said it wasn't right to lie about it. But I was embarrassed. So eventually I clammed up and avoided any conversations where I may have to explain why my dad was a no-show in life."

He walked to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water.

"I don't remember how much I told you about his other kids. The ones he chose over us. A son born six months after me. Hence him leaving and going back to his wife. A daughter, born two months before Galen. They were his
real
family. They got the father. Ball games, school events, birthdays, Christmases. They got what Galen and I never had. I was his firstborn, Tyler. His firstborn son. He denied my existence and raised his other son in my place. That one got the last name, the ritzy mansion in the Hamptons, the college fund. I got jack shit."

I heard the wounded boy in his voice, and my heart hurt for him. But I didn't understand what this had to do with us. Or him going AWOL on Valentine's.

He spoke again before I could ask.

"I hate him, Tyler. I despise him with every fiber in my being. He ruined my mother's life. He walked out on me and my sister, and he left my mom to fend on her own with two babies and her dancing career in ruins. If he was on fire in the desert, I wouldn't piss in his mouth to put the fire out."

"Okay. That's understandable."

"Galen, on the other hand—" he paused, and I flinched at the venom he used to say his sister's name, "—she doesn't see it that way. She's always held onto the fantasy that one day the old man would come to the door bearing gifts, and he'd take her to his fancy house and introduce her to her other brother and sister. Like she'd be rightfully restored to her throne."

His tone conveyed his view of Galen's fantasy as a betrayal.

"She called me Valentine's Day and asked me to come over for dinner. Said we needed to clear the air. I thought she meant between the two of us. The comedy club thing. But when I got there, it was a set-up. She'd tracked those two down. Been talking to them behind my back to arrange a visit. I walked in and got blindsided. I had no idea. There's my
sister
"—he spat the words through his teeth—"laughing and joking and having a family reunion with these damned people. Sharing freckles and moles and discussing childhoods and life stories. I couldn't believe she did that to me, Ty. To me and our mom. I have
never
wanted anything to do with them. She knew that. Galen knew. We've discussed it so many times. She took it upon herself to decide my life for me. To throw them in my face."

He rubbed his hand roughly cross the stubble on his chin as he stared out the sliding glass door.

"Jeffrey could have been my twin. Same age. Same height. Our faces almost identical. Same eyes. I couldn't help but look at him and hate him. He is who I could have been if I'd had my father. If my father hadn't chosen him over me."

I exhaled and realized I'd been holding my breath, my heart tight with his pain. I couldn't imagine how he must have felt to come face to face with this phantom brother with no warning. "Damn, Cabe. I'm so sorry. What did you say to him?"

"I don't know. Nothing nice. I didn't stay long."

"Cabe, why didn't you tell me? Call me? Or come over? You didn't have to deal with this alone. I would've been there for you."

"It was Valentine's Day. You had a bazillion weddings and were all stressed out. I wanted to tell you, but what kind of boyfriend would I be to lay all that on you for Valentine's? Of course, I ended up screwing up Valentine's anyway, didn't I? I had planned to be here when you got home. Flowers, bubble bath. Instead I ended up driving around by myself for hours, trying to process everything and make sense of it all. I finally drove over to the beach and just sat there in the sand until the sun came up. Then I drove back home and slept."

My heart leapt a little at hearing him say boyfriend, but this was no time to get all silly sentimental.

"What did your mom say? Was she upset?" I couldn't imagine Maggie would be happy with her daughter for betraying her and her son that way.

Cabe scoffed. "She knew. She knew Galen had contacted the daughter, Julie, on Facebook, and she knew Galen had been talking to them both. She even knew they were coming to visit. But no one in the family bothered to tell me. Or to ask if I wanted to be included. Galen took it upon herself to decide what was best for me. Something she and my mother seem to have been doing a lot lately." He sneered and pushed off the wall to turn and go back to the kitchen. He paced like a tiger caged.

"I don't get it. He screwed her over, Ty. My mother was gorgeous. Stunning. At the height of her career when she met him. Do you have any idea how much work it takes for someone to reach the level of a prima ballerina? How good she had to be to achieve that? He took it all away from her. I stood by her all these years. Tried to protect her. To make up for it. For what we cost her by being born. And then she turns around and supports Galen associating with those people."

I stood and went to him. He flinched when I put my hand on his arm, but he didn't pull away.

"Cabe, you can't fault Galen for wanting to know them. I understand your reasoning, but she has to make her own decisions for what's best for her. I'm not saying it was right of her to not tell you, but—"

He jerked his arm away and stepped away from me, whirling to face me in anger. "She had no right. I will never forgive them. Any of them. Not Galen. Not my mother. And never ever will I forgive that man or forget what he did to us. Even if they forget, I won't. I swear to God, Jeffrey will never be my brother. Julie will never be my sister. They can all kiss my ass as far as I'm concerned. The whole lot of them. I grew up without a father. I can go the rest of my life without a mother or a sister. Fine by me."

I gasped. If anyone had ever told me he would say such a thing about Maggie or Galen, I would not have believed it. They'd always been such a tight-knit unit.

"Cabe, you don't mean that. Maggie and Galen mean the world to you."

He shook his head. "Mom called him, Ty. We had a heated conversation when I woke up that Saturday, and I left the house angry. I drove to Lakeside to see you, but a wedding was just ending and it was pouring down rain. I could see you had your hands full so I pulled away. And as I was leaving, my phone rang. It was him. My mother called the son-of-a-bitch and gave him my phone number. She turned on me and sold out to him. Like Galen wasn't enough. I get to answer my phone and hear my father's voice for the first time since I was three years old, only for him to chew my ass for the way I treated his other children. Galen included. Like the three of them were separate from me. They can all go to hell. I won't shed a tear."

I'm very rarely speechless. I talk a lot, and I will break into song and dance to avoid an awkward pause. But I had nothing to say. I knew from the few times he'd discussed it that his dad's abandonment had always screwed with Cabe's head. I also knew he'd always felt like the protector for Maggie and Galen. The man of the house by default. Regardless of the fact he was only a young boy when he assumed the role.

To feel betrayed by them. In conjunction with the one who originally betrayed them all. Wow.

I couldn't believe all this had happened a month ago and I never knew. He hadn't told me. Had I really been so self-absorbed that I didn't sense something was wrong? Well, yeah, I guess I did. But I thought it was all about me. The push and pull. The commitment issues. The anger simmering just underneath the surface. The edginess. It all made more sense now. I wondered how differently the last few weeks would have gone if he had only talked to me.

"Cabe, I can't believe you didn't tell me any of this. I had no idea this was going on. Why haven't you told me?"

"Hell, it's not like I didn't try. I called you that Sunday, but you didn't call me back. I asked you out to dinner to talk, but you had all the work stuff going on. Paris was coming up. We already had tension between us, and I didn't want to add more stress. I guess I thought if I kept it all inside it wouldn't affect us. That didn't really work, huh?" He walked to door again and leaned his forehead and forearm against the glass.

"You used to tell me everything," I said. "I feel like since you came back you don't talk to me anymore."

"No, I do. I don't know. I just feel like…like it's all so screwed up now. Like all you're going to see is my flaws."

"That's ridiculous. I've been seeing your flaws for years. I have no illusions that you're perfect."

"Thanks." He turned back to face me, his face more tired and haggard now than before.

"You know what I mean. I need you to talk to me. Let me back in. I can't stand when you shut me out."

"I'm not. Or I don't mean to. I just feel like everything's caving in on me lately. From all sides. Everywhere I look there's the potential for disaster. Sometimes it seems safer to just retreat inside myself and try to figure it all out. I don't mean to hurt you. I don't want to do anything to lose you."

"You're not, but we've got to work together. I need to know you're in, no matter what comes against us."

He came to me slowly and rubbed his palm against my cheek. I nuzzled my face into his hand and kissed it before he pulled me in his arms and sighed heavily. I could feel the tension release from him, and I clung to him in a fierce determination to help him carry the load. My resolve to never give up on Cabe strengthened tenfold. He may not be able to count on his mom and sister, but he could count on me. I wouldn't let him down, and I'd protect him from all of them.

That's about when it dawned on me I still had to tell him about Jack. About my own betrayal. I cursed myself again for ever doubting Cabe. For tossing him away while I was in Paris.

He took my face in his hands and kissed me so tenderly I thought I would surely cry.

"I'll do better, baby," he said. The first time he'd ever called me that. "I'm sorry. I'm trying."

His eyes held mine, and I hoped he couldn't see me freaking out. There was no way I could tell him. Not tonight. Another time, maybe. I'd find a way. Find a time. He'd promised to do better at being open with me, so I had to be open with him. But not tonight.