He shakes his head again, dousing her hope. “I can’t— Elijah can’t leave this house. You don’t understand.”
Sarah slams the silverware down on the table. She feels it now. The storm brewing inside her. The wind whispers in her ear.Yes. Let it out. It feels good to show your anger, doesn’t it?
“This fucking house, the motel, Elijah—they’re holding you back,” she snaps.
“I can’t leave Elijah.” His eyes are pleading, and Sarah hates herself for causing him distress. But at the same time, a perverse pride blazes in her chest that she’s capable of such cruelty.
She gestures in the direction of the sunroom. “I care about Elijah, too! But it’s not healthy how much you hover over him. He’s a grown man; he’s got to learn how to stand on his own two feet. And so do you.”
“He’s all I have. He’s family.” Caleb picks up a spoon and returns to the sauce.
Sarah puts her hand on his, stopping him from stirring.
“I could be your family, too.”
His eyes meet hers for a single heart-stopping second.
“But obviously you don’t care enough about me to even talk about it,” she says.
She releases his hand and stalks out of the kitchen. “Aren’t you going to have dinner?” Caleb calls out.
“I’m not hungry.”
Sheishungry. Very hungry. But she continues stomping up the staircase. She wants to hurt the house. She wants to hurt Caleb. She wants to leave bruises.
She flounces into her room and locks the door behind her. Crossing her arms, she glares out the window above the bed. Elijah is hurrying across the backyard toward the woods. He sees her, and waves happily. Her face softens and she waves back. Elijah would leave Sweetside with her without hesitation, if she asked.
About five minutes later, the stairs creak. Caleb’s footsteps, no longer so confident.
He raps on the door. “Sarah?”
She says nothing, only prickles with irritation while watching the spot where Elijah disappeared.
“Sarah, please.” Caleb jiggles the doorknob. “Don’t be mad. I’m sorry. It’s just a lot to think about.”
She still doesn’t answer, imagining him running a hand through his overgrown curls, frown lines marring his forehead.
Finally he says the magic words. The words that ran through her head whenever Ben picked a fight with her.
“What did I do wrong?” he says. “How can we go back to where we were?”
It takes Sarah’s breath away how easy it is to have power over someone.You already know who you are, Ben whispers again.
Sarah unlocks and opens the door. Caleb’s face slackens with relief. She’s careful to keep her expression neutral. She’s had a lot of practice.
“I don’t belong in Sweetside, and neither do you,” she says.
“You’re wrong about that. I do belong here.”
“You don’t. I wish you’d see that.”
He gently places his hands on her upper arms. “We can talk about it later. Don’t get me wrong, Sarah. It’s not that I don’t want to be with you. I like you a lot. I want you to be happy. You deserve to be happy.”
Like herself, he’s spent his life trying to please others. His father, his uncle, Elijah, even the townspeople who treat him like a pariah. But she can’t let him see she sympathizes, not when he’s eating out of her hand.
“For now, can you please come down for dinner?” he begs.
Sarah lowers her eyes, her jaw set. But she says, “Okay,” and he smiles as if he’s won a major victory when it’s really her who’s won.
