Chapter 38

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Caroline

I lie in bed, staring at the ceiling. After the socks-blowing kiss in the kitchen, I forced myself upstairs and into my room, knowing if we went any further, I'd surely regret it.

My body is ready for sleep, but my mind has other ideas.

What was I thinking, making the first move to kiss him after getting back on track as Scrabble-playing buddies?

When Calvin asked, "Your room or mine," I was sure I suffered an actual heart attack. But when our lips met, the passion was all encompassing. And yet it was more than that. Kissing Calvin feels less like lust and more like— that other L word.

How is this happening?

I'm no less confused than I was after our first kiss at the gazebo but I am resigning myself to the fact that something is changing, rapidly. Whether it's good or not is yet to be determined.

I pull the comforter up to my chin. In the cool room, burrowed beneath the covers, I ponder what Calvin is doing right now. Is he also wide awake or sleeping like a baby, Rezy cuddling next to him?

If only it were me.

Icicles shimmer out my window. I can't see far in the dark but what is visible is pristine and peaceful but not lonely. Calvin is in the next room.

I close my eyes in search of answers. Bernard is there, behind my lids. He's not angry or hurt. He's happy for me. Maybe my mind is simply conjuring up what I want to see. But Bernard was a good man, a generous soul, and to my great fortune, my husband, even if it was only for a short while.

I wait for the guilt to take over but it doesn't come. I'm proud of my subconscious. I was a good wife to Bernard. I mourned him. But I'm still here and deserve happiness.

Still, my life is a mess with so many things still unsure. The lawsuit, my health. There's no way I'm thinking clearly now. It may not feel like it, but my attraction to Calvin may be a human result of grief and loneliness.

I tell myself to stop going down that rabbit hole, to let in a little bit of joy.

The push-and-pull of my emotions is more than I can bear right now. I came here for respite not more drama.

Calvin has, at most, one day left here. I don't want to spend it mulling over unanswerable questions. As the image of a smiling Bernard fades away, I tumble into a blessedly dreamless slumber.