“What the hell is this?” I raise my eyebrows reproachfully, but he just shrugs, then almost smiles.
“Irish coffee,” he explains. “Mom’s recipe.”
“It’s not even lunchtime yet,” I say, wondering what I’m even still doing here.
“Sure, but you look like you need it.” He sits down in the armchair across from me and raises his own cup. “I think we both need it,” he murmurs.
Then we’re quiet. Not in an uncomfortable way; we know each other far too well for that. But strangely, things are starting to feel normal between us again, like it hasn’t been a whole year since we last talked.
At some point, I break the silence. “How are you?”
Surprised, Caleb looks up, and the next second his face goes blank. “Fine. Everything’s okay,” he replies. He’s lying, I know it. I recognize the mask he’s hiding behind.
“Come on, Caleb. Howareyou?”
I take another sip, and this time the taste on my tongue is a little less awful.
His jaw muscles are working. He’s clinging to his cup so hard that his knuckles are white. I wait.
“I really want to kill him,” he finally manages to get out through clenched teeth.
“Me too.” More than that. I want to send Reed to hell without any chance of return. It’s what the bastard deserves.
“I just don’t understand how he could do it. He was my friend. Zoe is my little sister. He—” Shaking his head, Caleb stops. There’s irrepressible fury burning in his eyes. “I’m so angry I want to tear him into pieces. He was my fucking friend, and he raped Zoe. How... how can you even get over something like that? It’s all such fucking shit. I don’t even know what to say anymore, let alone what to do.”
“Yeah,” I say, because I feel exactly the same way.
How do you go on? Is it even possible? No clue. I don’t know if I’ve ever felt as helpless as I have in these last twenty-four hours. Except for the day when Sam died. And the weeks after. But that was a different kind of helplessness, because there really was nothing I could do. Now I know I can do something to help; I just don’t know what it is yet.
To help her. To help Caleb. To help myself. This all just sucks.
This time, Caleb breaks the silence between us.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
“For what?”
“For acting like an asshole the past year.”
I shrug, because I can’t deny it; he did act like an asshole. “We don’t have to talk about it,” I say, even though I know we should at some point. We can’t just sit here and pretend that it didn’t happen. I still don’t understand why he decided we just weren’t friends anymore.
“It wasn’t your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I fell in love with your sister.” Not that that was wrong; it was totally right. For me, at least. But he obviously doesn’t see it that way.
He laughs joylessly. “Yeah, it would have been good to know that. Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because I didn’t know... I didn’t know if she wanted me, and I was afraid it would ruin our friendship.” I’m being ruthlessly honest, and it feels good. Too much has happened to be anything else.
“It didn’t.”
I raise an eyebrow wordlessly. Of course it did.
Caleb rolls his eyes and sighs. “Okay, it did. It ruined our friendship. But not because the two of you fell in love. I didn’thave a problem with you getting together. Wait, that’s not true. I had a problem with it, but it wasn’t your fault.” The words stumble out of his mouth, fast and muddled. But there’s a missing piece, and I suspect it’s something crucial.
“And?” I ask, though part of me would have liked to spare us the answer.
He takes a deep breath, agonized. “I had a problem with it because I was... like Zoe. I had... feelings for you.”
