After initially speaking with the lawyer I hired, I had hope that maybe something could be done. He sounded optimistic, like perhaps he’d be able to find a loophole in the contract.
My phone buzzes in my bag, and I lean over to grab it. Seeing the familiar number on the screen, my heart speeds up. This is the call I’ve been waiting for, the one that has given me some measure of hope, so I answer it without hesitation.
“Yes?” I say as quietly as I can.
Caleb clutches my thigh at the interruption and sighs softly, still asleep.
I continue to massage his scalp as the lawyer on the other end of the line confirms it is indeed me. And then his voice lowers.
Disappointment.
He’s going to deliver bad news.
“Unfortunately, this isn’t what you want to hear…”
My stomach clenches, and bile moves up my esophagus.
“There’s nothing to be done?”
“No, you must meet the conditions of the agreement for your funds to be released.”
I need to go through with it.
With everything.
My chest constricts, and I gulp down air as I thank him and hang up. I can’t breathe. The room is closing in on me as panic creeps up my spine.
“Whit?” Caleb says sleepily, his blue eyes blinking up at me. “You okay?” he asks again when I don’t answer, concern lacing his voice.
“I…” I clutch at my chest. My vision blurs, and I lean forward, placing my head between my legs, doing my best not to pass out.
The sliver of hope I’d had is gone. I hadn’t even imagined things could be any different until I met Caleb. And for a month, one blissful, life-changing month, I’d let myselfhope. But it’s all lost. Everything is ruined.
“Whit?” Caleb says, those strong, thick hands rubbing my back so softly. So gentle. Always so gentle with me.
I can’t lose him. I can’t.
But it’s inevitable.
“Fine. Just…need…a minute,” I gasp.
He’s so patient with me, waiting until my breathing comes easier and my vision isn’t blurred at the edges. I still want to throw up, want to purge this feeling out of me. I want to curl into myself and lose myself to the darkness.
“What was that?” he asks, cupping my face in his palms and pressing a kiss to my sweaty forehead.
“Just bad news,” I whisper, and Caleb nods.
“You want to share?”
I shake my head. I can’t do it. Not yet. The anniversary of his mom’s death is coming up. Then Thanksgiving. Not yet. Not yet.
“Is it serious?”
I shake my head, even though it is. I feel like my heart is being ripped from my body.
The choice I have to make.
Is it even a choice?
