When the Heart Falls(126)

Something in his pocket vibrates, shattering the moment like ice. Cade pulls away from me, and the cold settles into my body, replacing the warmth of him. I shiver as he looks at the number. I know by the look on his face it's his mother, and I know he needs to answer this time, even as my lips tingle with the need to kiss him again. "Adjust your expectations," I remind him, pushing away my own disappointment.

He sighs, regret evident on his face, kisses my forehead and then answers the phone. "Hello, Mom."





CADE SAVAGE





CHAPTER 14





MY MOM EXHALES into the phone. "Cade. I've missed you so much. How are you, my baby?"

"Dag nab it, Mom!" Winter, overhearing what my mom said, grins, and I scoot away from her and lower my voice. "I told you. Never call me that… unless it's my birthday. That's the one day you're allowed. Remember, that's what we agreed on. "

She sighs loud enough for me to hear. "But I miss you so much."

It's good to hear her voice, and I smile, hoping she can hear the smile over the phone. "Happy 4th of July, Mom."

"Happy 4th of July, Cade."

The lights of Paris glitter on as the sun sets completely. Winter leans against the railing, staring out at the city, and I stare at her. "How are things?"

"Good. Your father's working hard on the business."

My jaw clenches. I don't want to talk about my dad, but there is something I need to know. "How's Stevie?"

"He's fine. He—" A sob escapes from her.

My gut drops. "Mom?"

"He digressed, Cade. He can't eat anymore. The doctor put a feeding tube in his stomach."

"Is he… " I can't bring myself to finish the sentence, the word getting stuck in my throat.

"He'll be fine, honey. He's doing better already." She still sounds like she's holding back tears, but that could mean anything.

Tension drains from my body at the news that my brother is improving. "Can you put me on speakerphone? I want to talk to him."

"Sure." I hear her walking across the house. "Okay. You're on."

"Hey, Stevie. Hey, buddy. I'm sorry I'm not there right now. I hope Martha is taking care of you, making sure you get some exercise. Don't get lazy now with all that sitting around. I hope Mom and Dad are still reading you bedtime stories. Do you read to him?"

"I do," Mom says.

"Good. And make sure, make sure Martha gives him a lot of carrot juice. He loves carrot juice."

"I know," she says.

"Hey, Stevie. Remember when I told you about Paris? Remember the picture of the Eiffel Tower? That's where I am right now, Stevie. I'm on the Eiffel Tower. I wish you could be here with me. One day, we'll have to go together. It's beautiful up here. You'll really like it. In the meantime I'll take a picture for you, okay?"

Stevie makes a croaking sound.

My heart pumps harder, and I wish I could be with them, that we could go back to how we used to be with fireworks and swimming and homemade ice cream. Stevie always loved to swim. "I love you too, buddy. Can you put mom back on the phone?"

"I'm here, Cade."

"Thank you, Mom."

"You're welcome. We… " She hesitates, and I wonder if she'll ask me to come back. The way I feel right now, if she asks me, I might just have to leave. Adjust expectations, I remind myself, but that advice isn't helping much right now.

"We miss you Cade." Mom shuffles something around that crackles through the phone.

I slump forward on the railing, relieved I don't have to choose right now between my life and my family. "I miss you too."

I hear heavy footsteps in the background and a door banging closed. My dad's voice carries through the house. "Is that Cade? I want to talk to him."

"Cade, your father wants to talk to you," Mom says.

I freeze, unsure of what to say or do.

"Cade?" Her voice sounds sad, always stuck between her husband and sons.

But I still can't reply.

"Cade? Cade?"

Dad's footsteps grow louder. He yells at Mom again.

And I hang up.

A gust of wind blows through me, chilling me to the bone as I gaze out over Paris. I can't speak to my dad. Can't be with my brother. Can't make my mom happy. Can't pursue what I love without hurting them all, and I can't do what they want without giving up a piece of myself. And I can't…

I can't hold it in anymore.

My eyes burn with tears that threaten to leak out. Evidence of my pain. My guilt. My failures.

Winter turns to face me. Her blue eyes penetrate me, and without a word she walks over and wraps her arms around me, holding me close to her.

I consider pushing her away. Men don't cry. Men aren't weak.

But sometimes we do. Sometimes we are. And sometimes we need someone to be there for us.

And right now, I need her.





WINTER DEVEAUX

CHAPTER 15





THE WEATHER AT Mont Saint Michel could be hot or cold, or somewhere in between, Monsieur Bellugue told us. Which, obviously, really helps with the packing. I debate between a red sweater and my black leather jacket. I can't fit both into my carry-on bag, and I don't want to bring a lot of luggage for one weekend.