“You’re supposed to treat her like the adult she is, Cal.”
Frustration built inside me, the pressure of it crowding out my lungs and throat. If Deena didn’t take care of herself, then I could lose her and a baby I never expected but desperately wanted. And from what I’d seen, she had no interest in taking it easy.
What choice did I have?
“I’m taking your girlfriend out for breakfast,” Erica said. “We’ll be gone for a few hours. If you so much as send her a text message in that time, I will come back here and smash your phone to pieces.”
I gritted my teeth, fury swirling inside me. But even though my sister still wasn’t herself—she was too thin, and I knew she was tired—she stared at me with that unyielding, stubborn look on her face.
And in some small, still-rational corner of my mind, I knew shewas right. I lifted my palms in surrender. “You shouldn’t be going out either, by the way.”
“Oh fuck off, Cal,” she snapped, and stomped out of the kitchen to go find Deena.
I stood there, on my own, seething. Then my phone rang, and I had no choice but to go to work.
THIRTY-TWO
DEENA
“He means well,”Erica said as I poked at my rubbery scrambled eggs. I’d almost ordered runny eggs out of spite, but Cal’s words rang in my ears.
What if Ididget sick, and something happened to the baby? I’d never forgive myself.
“I know he does,” I said, “but I just wish he’d back off a bit. How did you handle it for so long?”
Erica had told me that Cal had taken her in when her ex left her after her diagnosis. He’d handled all her appointments, her treatment plan, and her daughter’s care—but he’d micromanaged her diet and recovery as well. It had driven her crazy.
“You have to take the good with the bad,” she said. “When he cares about you, Cal is all in, all the time. It’s how he is with his business, it’s how he is with his family, and it’s how he is with you.”
We’d only really been together—truly together—a little less than two months. It was overwhelming to be put in the samecategory as the company Cal had spent his life building and the family he cherished above everything.
I swallowed past a lump in my throat. “He told me about your little sister,” I said. “I’m so sorry.”
Erica smiled sadly. “Gracie’s death changed him. Changed all of us.”
“I appreciate everything he’s doing,” I said slowly. “Ido. It’s just…a lot.”
“Try to be patient with him. A baby is a big deal. He’s probably still reeling.”
“We both are,” I admitted. “The weeks just seem to fly by. And then the baby will get here, and…”
“And everything will get even more complicated.”
I nodded, glum. Part of me wished I’d never walked into Cal’s office back in December last year. But that wasn’t exactly true, was it? I felt more alive than ever. And even though this baby was unplanned, I couldn’t deny that I was excited for its arrival.
We had to adjust. Maybe, like Erica said, I had to be patient with Cal. He was being overbearing because he cared, after all.
Still, as we headed back to his building, and my eyes climbed the skyscraper to look at the windows where his penthouse perched, my gut tightened with apprehension. I wished I could go back to my own apartment, be surrounded by my own things, and just breathe. Yes, my studio wasn’t as secure as this building. My furniture was cheap and some of my things were falling apart.
But they weremine. As we rode the elevator up toward the residence, I wondered if I was giving up a little too much for the luxury Cal provided. How much more freedom would I have to sacrifice in order to placate his fears? And would he ever truly understand the kind of independence I needed in order to be happy?
Erica left me to go rest, and I headed up to Cal’s bedroom. Ishould’ve thought of it asmybedroom, but it didn’t feel that way. It felt like I’d squished myself into Cal’s life, constricting some parts of me to the point of pain.
It would take time. There had been lots of changes in a short amount of time. I needed to be patient.
Cal found me a few hours later. I sat on the armchair in the bedroom, my laptop on my stretched legs. I’d gotten a lot done in the stillness of his home, and I felt better. He entered the room slowly, his eyes searching mine, and some of the tension within me eased. With his top two buttons undone and his hair mussed, he looked as unraveled as I felt.
Sitting down on the edge of the bed closest to me, Cal leaned his elbows on his knees. “I’m sorry,” he said simply. “I’m just trying to do what’s best.”
