I just stare at the footwell as I try not to spiral into tears again.
When we arrive at my house, the realization I never gave him my address hits me. Somehow, he already knew where I lived.
He gets out of the car and opens my door, positioning an umbrella over me so I’m not further drenched by the torrential downpour outside. I fumble to find the door key, unsuccessfully slotting it inside the lock. The scrape of the metal lock on the key is grating. It’s so cold now my whole body shakes. He leans over me, taking it from my hand and unlocking it in one smooth motion.
“I got it,” he whispers. I can feel his humid breath ghost over the shell of my ear, and my stomach tightens.
“Th-thank you,” I stutter. Being this close to the man I’ve wanted ever since I was a child makes me nervous. I dreamedabout being alone with Caulder, but now that it’s happening in reality, when I’m at my worst, I don’t know what to do.
The man of my dreams ushers me into my house, turning on the lights. He takes my coat and hangs it on the rack. When we get to the fireplace in the living room, he throws a ball of fire inside that rotates like a spit and warms the room instantly.
“Um…thank you,” I mumble.Ugh, Ijustsaid that.
He waves his hands over me, from my head, down to my knees and back again. I feel heat seep into my clothes—down to the marrow of my bones—warming me from the inside out. My clothes dry, and I feel somewhat better. Makes me almost forget my parents died.
Caulder slowly walks around the living room, gravitating toward the bookshelf. It’s filled with magical texts and grimoires passed down through both sides of my family. He takes his time, running his fingers over the spines and stopping at a black, worn leather spine.
“That’s a grimoire. My grandmother’s…” I say to fill the silence.
“Oh, I’ve heard of this book. It’s something of a legend in the coven,” he responds as he crosses the room.
He sits on the couch, his thick, muscular thighs spread wide. Leaning forward, he rests his forearms on his knees. He gestures for me to sit, and I take a seat close enough to him that it’s not rude, but far enough away so I don’t embarrass myself any further.
“Ambrose, are you going to be okay by yourself?” His face is etched with worry, and a little furrow forms between his brows.
No, I immediately think. But I can’t tell him that.
“I will be, don’t worry about me,” I lie in an effort to make him feel better. It’s nice he cares, but I’m not his problem. I’m no one’s problem but my own, now.
“It’s okay that you’re hurting. When I was a kid, my mom left. I cried every night for months, waiting for her to return, even though I knew she never would.” He takes my hand in his, rubbing his thumb over my pulse. “I had my dad and brother, but she took a part of me with her. I still miss her and can only imagine how hard this must be for you.”
A tear breaks free, rolling down my cheek. His wistful expression breaks my heart. His father died not long after, if I remember correctly. He’s an orphan too, but he’s so strong.
I know that no matter how much time passes, I’ll still miss my parents… Living without them hasn’t been easy. I still see them in every room of this house, like they’re ghosts. All my memories with them are alive and well, like spectral beings who constantly remind me they’ll never be here to make more.
The floodgate breaks and I almost choke on my sobs.
It is hard.
It’s impossible to get up every day and make myself leave my room, knowing they won’t be there to greet me. We’ll never share a meal again. I’ll never have tea with my mother or taste her blueberry scones. Their laughter, their words, endless patience and acceptance of having a defective loser for a son are gone.
The fierce wind outside bangs the tree branches into the window, and the electricity flickers. I can’t hold my shit together.
Caulder moves closer, wrapping his arms around me in a tight hug. I cry like a hysterical baby, and he pulls me onto his lap. My face rests on his chest, and I can smell his musky, woodsy scent. Breathing it in makes me feel safe. He holds me for what seems like an eternity, letting me fall apart in his warm embrace as he rubs my back. His magic surrounds me again, relaxing me with a controlled warmth, and eventually, I wind back down.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt out as my shame piles higher, suffocating me. I’m sitting on his lap, for fuck’s sake. I need to man up—I’ve embarrassed myself enough.
I try to stand up, but he pulls me back down and cuddles me to his chest.
“You have no reason to apologize. You can cry as much as you want. Let all your feelings go. I’m here for you.” His words vibrate in his chest before wrapping themselves around my heart. It feels so good to have someone to lean on. Someone who makes me feel like I’m not alone.
I rest my cheek on his pec, turning to putty in his embrace. We talk about loss, life, and how things will change going forward. Caulder knows what it’s like to lose a parent, and having his comfort right now is keeping me from going off the deep end.
“Be honest with me. How out of control is your magic?” he asks.
“It’s always been a little off, but aside from an incident here and there, it was mostly under control. Now… It’s bad.”
“I overheard your parents talking about it once. Sometimes I have the habit of eavesdropping.” He tips my chin up, and I melt under his intense stare. “You know, I can help you gain control of your magic, give you lessons.”
