Only Between Us (29 page)

Something thunks onto the floor next to me. I look over to see a brand new sketchpad, premium heavy weight drawing paper. “Merry Christmas,” says Daniel.

I look over my shoulder and smile as he steps into my studio and sits on the dropcloth next to me. “Thanks. This is awesome.”

“Found what you left me in my studio.”

A sable hair filbert brush. “Romy chipped in. It’s from both of us.”

Part of me warms with pride as I say that. From both of us. Like we’re …
something
together. But another part of me sparks with fear. I have the funniest feeling, like it’s slipping away.

Daniel grins. “You’re giving Christmas presents together. This must be love.”

My chest aches. I’ve forced myself not to tell her, because I didn’t want to seem … I don’t know. Clingy? I don’t want to be clingy. She hasn’t said it, either, so I think I’ve done the right thing. “Maybe.”
Definitely
.

The brightness in his expression fades. “Are you all right?” His gaze slides up to my canvas, home to a few lackluster strokes of cobalt. Me, trying to find my way.

“Not sure.” I want to brush it off, because I don’t want my fears to be real. Saying it will make it real. But—“I think Romy’s pulling away from me,” I blurt. “She asked me to go to this fancy party at her parents’—” I’d been so excited. I thought it meant something serious, and I was surprised by how happy that made me. “—but now I’m wondering if she regrets it.”

Daniel leans back on one hand, his always busy fingers playing with the edge of my new sketchpad. “Are
you
? I mean,
meeting the parents
.” He shudders.

“I know,” I say. Except I don’t. No one’s ever taken me to meet their parents. “Katie thinks they’ll be snotty to me.” I chuckle. “She seems to think I’m going to have a terrible time and be scarred forever.”

Daniel’s blue eyes snap to mine. “How’s she doing?”

I shrug. “Pretty well, all things considered.” Now that she’s admitted—both to me and to her therapist—that Phil actually did abuse her, the next step is to quit denying it to the rest of our family. Thing is, that’s a
huge
step, and I have no idea when she’ll be able to take it. “She’s working through some things.”

“She and Romy get along?”

 “Yeah, I guess. But Romy hasn’t been coming over much lately. I was spending a lot of time at her apartment, but Katie’s really needed me more the past few weeks.” And Romy has started telling me I should stay home instead of coming over. I’m beginning to wonder if she doesn’t want me around and is trying to be nice about it. “I haven’t been seeing Romy more than once or twice a week.” And in the last week or so, she’s seemed even more withdrawn.

“Is that cool with you? Because I’ll be honest. It doesn’t
look
like it’s cool with you,” Daniel says, brushing his shaggy hair out of his eyes.

“No, it’s not, but I can’t really blame her. I’ve had a pretty screwed up life, and maybe she’s deciding it’s too much.” And I get that, but it hurts like a fucking rusty poker in the chest. It feels like she’s peeling away from me, inch by inch, but because she’s become so much a part of me, I’m slowly bleeding to death as she does. “I don’t want to crowd her.”

“Maybe Romy needs to be crowded a little.” Daniel’s mouth twitches mischievously.

“Katie likes it when I’m home.” She says it makes her feel happier. Safer.

“Is she jealous of Romy?”

I blink. “Huh?”

“Just a thought. Katie’s had you all to herself for a while, whether she appreciated that or not. And suddenly Romy shows up, and she’s the best fucking thing that’s ever happened to you, and now Katie has to share.”

My mouth drops open. “I’m always there when Katie needs me.”

Daniel grunts as he pushes himself up. “I know. But Katie’s not the only one allowed to have needs.” He slaps me on the back. “I got a thing to go to. See you later.”

I hate when he does this. Drops bombs and walks away, leaving me to sort it out. Is he saying that I have needs? Or that Romy does? I mean,
duh
. One of my needs
is
Romy. That’s why it scares me so much, that I haven’t been over to her place in a week, that the party is this weekend and I feel more nervous about it every day. That’s the kind of thing she would help me sort out, but our conversations have been skimming the surface lately, short and shallow.

I spend another hour in front of my painting and then pack up. This isn’t working. I’m rinsing my brushes when I feel hands on my back, creeping under my shirt, startlingly cold palms on my skin that make me gasp.
Romy
. Longing fills me, even though she’s right here. “Hey,” I say, turning off the water and leaning on the sink as her hands slide around to my stomach and pull tight.

“Hey,” she says as she molds her body against my back. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

I look over my shoulder at her and frown. She looks thrashed. Her eyes are squeezed closed and her cheek is pressed to my shoulder blade. I dry my hands on a cloth and her arms loosen just enough to let me turn, but then she’s mashed herself to my chest. “Are you all right?” I cradle her head, hoping she doesn’t mind the smell of turpentine that’s probably coming off me in waves.

“Not really,” she says, her voice strained. “I—

 My phone starts to ring. Romy stiffens and pulls away as I fish it from my pocket and see it’s Katie. I close my eyes and grit my teeth.
Not now,
I want to shout. “Hello?”

“When are you getting home?” she asks, sounding out of breath.

I look down at Romy, who seems pale and exhausted and shaky. Something’s wrong. “I might be a while.”

“What? No, Cabe, I … I bought some razorblades from the drugstore today. I couldn’t help it.”

My blood turns icy, making me shiver. “You
what
?” I whisper.

Her voice turns high and childlike. Panicky. “I’m just … I’m just …” She starts to cry. Fuck. My sister is at home with a bunch of fucking razors.

“Did you cut yourself? Are you bleeding?”

Romy takes an unsteady step backward, her eyes wide.

“N-no, not yet, but—”

“Katie,” I say calmly, even though my heart is thundering against my ribs. “I want you to take them out to the dumpster and toss them in. Can you do that for me?”

“I don’t know,” she says between sobs. “Cabe, I can’t stop all these memories. Every time I close my eyes, he’s there. I want to cut him out of me.”

I grip the edge of the sink, wanting to slam my fist into something. “I’ll be there in ten minutes,” I say. “Can you stay where you are until then? Ten minutes. I promise.”

“Okay,” she whispers. 

I jam my phone into my pocket and look back at Romy.

“I guess I’ll talk to you later,” she says quietly.

There are so many things I want to say to her. So many things.
We’ll figure this out. I’m sorry. Help me. Forgive me.
“Let me handle this, and then I’ll call you.”

“Sure,” she whispers, and the helpless, sad sound of it holds me in place. She looks like she’s about to shatter.

“Before I leave, tell me what’s happened,” I say. “I know something’s—”

“Go,” she says. “You promised her you’d be there in ten minutes, and it takes that long to drive it.” She gently tugs my arm to get me moving for the door. “Go.”

I do, because I have to. But it feels like I’m leaving my heart behind.

I stride up the hall toward Romy’s apartment, my throat tight. Her phone is off, and it’s been hours since I saw her, pale and shaken and needing to hold on to me. I’ve been dying to get back to her ever since I walked away, but when I made it to my apartment, I found Katie there with her razors, and after one look at her, I knew I had to take her to the hospital. She’s dealing with all this traumatic shit, and the holiday season is absolute hell on her already. And I get it—I hate this time of year, too. The only thing that’s made it okay for me is Romy, and knowing we’re going to her parents’, but now I’m wondering if I can go. Katie’s going to be discharged a few days before we’re supposed to leave.

I knock at Romy’s door. It’s after eleven, but I know she stays up late. When the door swings open, though, it’s not Romy standing there.

It’s Jude. His jaw is tight as he says, “About time you showed up.”

I glance past him, expecting to see Romy, but the only other person in the living room is a lean guy with brown hair shot through with gray. “Where is she?” I ask, more worried than ever.

Jude pulls the door open, his voice soft but sharp as a blade. “Sleeping. Finally. I gave her one of my Xanax.”

I step into the apartment. Her bedroom door is closed. “Did something happen to her?”

Jude looks like he wants to punch me. “I’m not sure you deserve to know.”

Rage flares inside my chest and I take a quick step toward him. “
Don’t
play games with me,” I growl. “I’m so fucking tired of games. Just tell me.” Goddammit. My fists clench, and my eyes burn. I left her at the co-op. Fucking walked away. I should have at least stayed and made her tell me what had happened.

The guy in the living room comes to stand next to Jude. “I’m guessing you’re Caleb,” he says. “I’m Eric. And please forgive my boyfriend. He’s had a rough night.” He takes Jude by the hand and gives him a gentle shove toward the couch before turning back to me. “Romy had a little run-in with her ex today, and—”

“What?” The heat of my rage becomes a cold sweat in a fraction of a second. “Did he hurt her?” I can’t believe this. I thought he was gone.

“No, but it confirmed her fears that he’s been stalking her.”

I blink at him. “Wait—what?” I look back and forth between Jude and Eric. “She hasn’t seen him since the night of the auction.”

“Wrong,” snaps Jude. “She ran into him last week when she was Christmas shopping. He just happened to wander into the same boutique. Scared her to death.”

“She should have called the police then,” Eric says to him.

“I
know
, honey,” Jude says through clenched teeth.

My mouth is opening and closing, but I can’t put words together. “She didn’t tell me,” I say weakly. Why didn’t she tell me? I would have done anything to protect her. I would have—

“You have other priorities,” Jude says, staring daggers at me. After a moment, he crosses his arms over his chest. “Okay. I’m going to say something to you, and I want you to understand where this is coming from. I only saw your sister for a few sessions, and I haven’t seen her or heard about her case for two months. So I’m not saying this as her therapist.” His chin rises defiantly. “I’m saying this as Romy’s friend.”

My heart stutters. “I’m listening.”

“Romy is one of the most sensitive, loving people I know. She’s going to make a great counselor, because she wants to help people. Not as a job, but because that’s the way she is.”

I try to swallow the lump in my throat. I know this about her. I love this about her. “Okay.”

“For whatever crazy reason, she cares about you. More than she cares about herself, I think. She hasn’t wanted to make you choose between her and your sister, and she doesn’t want to stress you out.”

“Stress me out?” Romy does the opposite for me. “I haven’t done anything to make her feel that way!”

Jude gives me a look of utter contempt. “That’s not what I hear. How many times have you bombed out of Romy’s place to run to your sister?” He holds his hands up when I open my mouth to argue. “No, I know Catherine’s needed you, and Romy gets that. But you
have
made Romy feel like she was getting between you and your sister. Tell me you don’t downplay your relationship with Romy in front of Catherine. Tell me you don’t avoid touching Romy when you’re all together. At some level, Caleb, you’ve made your priorities really clear.”

I take a step back, my thoughts a whirlwind as I think of all the times I’ve wanted to wrap my arms around Romy, all the times I’ve wanted to draw her near or kiss her but haven’t because Katie was right there. I’ve been telling myself I could save that for later, that I could keep what I have with Romy just for us, but now I realize how it must have felt to Romy—like I was pushing her away. Every. Single. Time.
Fuck
. Why didn’t she say anything?

Jude nods as he sees the realization sink in.  “And because of all that, when she ran into Alex last week, she decided not to tell you.”

“I told her she should,” says Eric, examining his nails.

Jude gives him a
honey, shut up
look that would make me laugh if I wasn’t ready to start shouting. Romy decided not to tell me she’d seen Alex. She told these two guys instead … because I’ve been so focused on Katie.

She didn’t think I was strong enough to be there for her, too. Or she didn’t think I cared enough to do it.
FUCK
. I shove my hands in my pockets to keep from punching something.

Jude’s eyes meet mine. “Today, Romy was driving back to her apartment from her internship, and she saw a red Acura in her rearview,” he says in a deadly quiet voice. “She told herself it wasn’t him. She wanted to believe she’d run into him last week by chance, and that she was overreacting. Still, she decided to stop on Main Street to pick up some coffee—and to get the red Acura off her tail.”

“But it was him,” I choke out.

Jude nods. “She called the police when she recognized him.” He leans forward. “As he pulled in behind her.”

“Fuck,” I whisper.

“Indeed,” says Eric. “We think he wanted to bully her into withdrawing the personal protection order. But Romy’s good. She was carrying a copy of both the order
and
the proof that he’d been served with it in her purse.”

“Right now I’m wishing she was carrying something else, too,” says Jude. “He was pounding on her window when the cops pulled up.”

Eric gives me an evil smile. “And his arraignment is tomorrow. I’m really looking forward to it.” When he sees my confusion, he adds, “I’m her lawyer. And I’m going to make sure that asshole spends his Christmas in jail.”

“He was following her,” I say hollowly. I suddenly remember that day she drove us out to Amy’s for Thanksgiving—she nearly ran a red light because she was so focused on something behind us, and she was so nervous afterward. “He probably has been for a while. And she kept it from me.”