One Step Closer(17)

His father had played his trump card. Juilliard was Wren’s dream and she was an amazing dancer. Caleb was always stunned watching her. They’d kept dancing a secret from Veronica so she couldn’t sabotage it, and had to turn down more than one opportunity to dance in productions around Denver. Caleb paid for her lessons out of his fight earnings. They’d both worked so hard to make it happen without telling either of their parents, so how did Edison know?

His heart had sunk to his stomach at the prospect of leaving Wren behind, but she was all that mattered. He’d sobered and said the only thing he could say. “Okay.”

It was in this very room and Caleb remembered it like it was yesterday. He made it a point to stop his thoughts; he didn’t want to deal with those demons right now, because depending on which choice he made, he could be reliving that day for the rest of his life. No doubt, the next few days would be the test.

“I don’t know if Wren will even want to see me, so I’m sure she won’t want to be tied to me for five years. We’ve been through a lot.” He understood why things had been strained between them, but that didn’t make it easier on either of them.

“Honestly, Caleb, you should read both versions and then make a decision. It’s really about what you want at this point,” Jonathan said. “I was as surprised by the contents of Edison’s letter, also, and depending on your decision, and what you’ve said, Wren may not believe she is needed here.”

“Then why didn’t you wait to call her until you knew what I’d decide?”

“Because your father knew what you’d choose,” Jonathan said simply. “I was instructed to call her first.”

The lawyer’s words, and the fact his absentee father thought he had him pegged, pissed Caleb off. After all this time, everything that had happened, and the lives he and Wren built separately, was it still so f*cking obvious?

Wren. For years she’d been the reason he did everything. The reason he stayed in high school, the reason he didn’t run away from home; the reason he left... but she was blissfully unaware of any of it. Fuck!

The silence boomed around Caleb like a thunderclap, broken only by the painful thudding of his own heart and the rasping of the breaths being dragged in, and painfully pushed out, of his lungs.

When he’d heard the news a day earlier, he’d been like a zombie, simply going through the motions. Since then, his eyes had remained as dry as a desert. He was in shock, no question, though a sick ache had begun to take hold deep down in his gut. It was too soon to tell if his reaction was due to his father’s death, his manipulative bullshit, the undisclosed details of the wills, or trepidation of a possible confrontation with Wren that had him tied up in knots.

Obviously, Wren was the main component in whatever decision he made. But, Caleb didn’t understand why, if Jonathan knew what choice he’d inevitably make, why didn’t he just destroy the version that gave Caleb everything? Why put Caleb through the hell of deciding, for Christ’s sake? His face twisted sardonically as he sighed heavily, attempting to ease his tension. At the same time, his hand pulled at the front of the expensive linen button down he wore.

Caleb felt as if an elephant was sitting on his chest; the tightness making him feel claustrophobic and he wanted to claw at his lungs. Claustrophobic. That was the only way to describe how he felt. He didn’t want to be here, he didn’t want to make this decision; maybe he didn’t even want to see Wren, because it always ripped him open.

My father would be so proud of himself. He has me squirming like a fish on a hook, one final time. The diabolical prick, he thought.

Caleb tried to remain passive and adopt the mask he'd become so good at plastering on his face whenever he didn’t want anyone to know how he felt. A skill he’d mastered to keep his inner turmoil secret all those years ago, though it didn’t mean that he wasn’t ripped to shreds on the inside.

Why did love and pain have to be so f*cking indistinguishable? Like living things, yin and yang, one completely impossible without the other.

Like me and Wren.

Jonathan sat on the couch watching Caleb’s silent struggle as the young man’s hands visibly shook while sifting through the contacts on his smart phone.

Caleb tightened his grip to steady them. When Wren’s name landed on the screen, he stopped at it automatically, his eyes locked on the word as his thumb traced over the individual letters. How many times had he done this? Practice stopped him from dialing her number. It must have been at least a hundred times. So often, he needed to hear her voice, but only allowed himself to call on her birthdays or holidays, and for an occasional family event.

Caleb spent years rebelling against everything his father wanted or expected of him, He’d tried to make Edison’s life as miserable as possible but in the end, Wren was the sacrifice.

Payback was hell, but it had backfired, and Edison still had Caleb under his thumb; shoving one last lesson down his throat. There was always another lesson to learn, and the harder it was, the better. Even from the grave.

Caleb almost laughed at the irony of it. He had to admit, most of the time, he hadn’t appreciated his father’s methods, but dying was rather extreme. Caleb had spent years telling Edison to go straight to hell, and maybe he was, but he was sure as shit having the last laugh. That bastard.

Caleb knew the other shoe was about to drop, the repercussions would be massive, and it would ruin everything he was about to accomplish professionally; and probably screw up his personal life.