Nausea rises. I never thought about oiling the deadbolt. Never thought about changing it to a newer model. And now… Fuck. I could have gotten Vienna killed.
“I’m so sorry, Caleb.” Vienna buries her face in her hands.
“Ah, no, V.” I pull her into my arms again. In the distance, sirens approach. “No. Don’t apologize. It doesn’t matter how the fire started.”
“But—”
“I mean it.” Closing my eyes, I press my lips to the top of her head. “All that matters is that you’re safe.”
And shit. All that talk about not caring. About being better off alone.
Now that I have Vienna in my arms, I don’t want to let her go.
CHAPTER 7
VIENNA
From the kitchen, the low rumble of Caleb’s voice comes in starts and stops.
His tone is rough and commanding, rather than the gentle one he’s been using with me. I can’t tell what he’s saying, but given that he’s on the phone with the fire department, I can’t imagine he’s happy.
I almost laugh at the ridiculousness of it.
Of course he’s not happy. I burned down his dad’s retreat. Because of me, Caleb ran into a burning building. He could have been badly injured.
He could havedied.
He keeps telling me it’s not my fault. First last night, while we watched the cabin burn. Then later, after the firefighters and police left, he told me again. And he reminded me over coffee this morning, as well.
It’s not that he doesn’t seem genuine when he says it. He does. But how could henotblame me? It was myresponsibility to keep the fire under control. If I hadn’t added that last log right before falling asleep, everything would have been fine. Waking up to a cold cabin would have been the worst of it.
But no. I was more concerned about comfort than safety. And now look what happened. Not only is my life even more of a mess than it was already, but I’ve also screwed things up for Caleb.
That’s not really fair,a voice in my head whispers.You didn’t think you were doing anything unsafe. You added the log just like Caleb showed you. And you didn’t mean to fall asleep while reading on the couch. You just did.
Fair or not, Caleb’s cabin is nothing more than a pile of blackened wood on scorched grass. And that’s on me.
The guilt I’ve been carrying all day seems to grow even heavier, dragging at my body and making it hard to breathe. The tears I’ve been fighting make another bid to escape. As I swallow against them, my throat feels like it’s on fire.
Even though Caleb’s just in the other room, I feel completely alone.
Burrowing into the quilt he wrapped around me, I rest my chin on my knees and close my eyes as I try to rein in my emotions. I don’t want Caleb coming back into the living room to find me crying and worrying him more than he is already.
Back when I broke my leg, I would have loved to have been the object of so much concern. If I’d known Caleb then, and he was by my side at the hospital,constantly checking on me, I would have been beyond grateful for it.
For a moment, I let myself fall back into the memories, but this time, I add Caleb to them.
That first night at the hospital, when the pain is so bad the drugs they give me don’t touch it, he’s there. Holding my hand. Wiping away my tears. Tracking down the doctor on call and demanding he do something to help me feel better.
When I wake up from my first surgery, instead of the nurse, Caleb’s face is the first I see. Behind him are dozens of flowers he brought to brighten the room. His expression is creased with worry, only easing slightly once he’s absolutely sure I’m okay.
And when I go home to my second-floor apartment, I don’t have to navigate the steps on crutches by myself. Caleb carefully lifts me into his arms and carries me up them, then brings me into the bedroom he’s readied for me, complete with fluffy blankets and plenty of pillows and my nightstand overflowing with snacks and books.
If I’d known Caleb back then, it could have been a possibility. But now? After what I did?
I don’t deserve his generosity.
I don’t deserve his concern.
