Bait (Wake, #1)(105)
“Casey, she's married!”
“I know,” I said. I knew that more than anybody.
“So what is she doing there?” She never seemed to like Blake and whenever her name came up she acted offended. Morgan's morality and sense of right and wrong was like a compass. Everything was simply good or bad to her. Which was a bad way to be, but Morgan was good to her core.
“She came to see me. Don't be like that Morgan, you might be smart, but you don't know everything.”
“I know what you looked like after her wedding. I know you love her and she married someone else. Those seem to be valid reasons for me to dislike her. How would you feel if someone treated me that way?” She told me once that she wanted to be a nurse, but she was more equipped to be a lawyer.
“I'd tell you to think for yourself and be happy. This isn't your business. I love you, and thanks for your concern, but she makes me feel better. You don't get it. You only know the story, Morg. I've lived it.”
She sighed on the other end. “I love you, too. Stop talking to me like I'm a little girl.”
“You are a little girl.” I laughed. “To me.”
“Whatever. I've got to go. Please, be careful and be good to yourself. Can you meet me for lunch next week?”
“I will. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Okay. And Casey?” she said as an afterthought, “I'm glad she makes you feel better, it’s about time she did.”
How is it that my younger, my least experienced sibling, was wiser than all of us?
The day wasted away. We watched television. We had sex on the half wall of the stone patio. We made food and listened to music. We took a walk down to the shed. The red “Bait” still written on the back wall facing away from the property.
“This really is something, isn't it?” she said that night as we looked at the sky, even though it was nearly starless. We watched the clouds pass between us and the moon. It felt a little symbolic.
“I think so.”
She rolled over and looked at me, all business. “I like it.”
“I know.”
“I want this,” she said in exasperation, falling back against the blanket looking up again. “I want this!” She screamed into the night.
What it must be like in her shoes. I'd spent the better part of the past year, or more, trying to figure that out. Listening to her cry out for what she really wanted, lying there beside me, and hearing it was that. There. With me. It breathed life into my person.
“Then take it,” I said.
“I'm trying. I want a divorce. I don't love him like—” and she paused, but I heard the full sentence. She’d never told me she loved me. And I’d only told her in a fight.
She asked, “Can you give me a little more time?” Her voice was barely a whisper.
“I can try, if you mean that.”
“I mean it.”
“How long is a little time?”
“I don't know. I just got married. My parents—” she paused again, leaving another dangling sentence in the damp night air.
“Just say it, honeybee. We passed polite a long time ago.”
“I don't want my parents to hate you. I don't want them to hate me, either. I just married Grant. They've known him a long time and they’re so close. They won't understand all of this.” She rolled in my direction. “I need to start talking to them. I can talk to my dad. I just can't spring it on them. I need to give it time. Maybe a year.”
Another year? Fucking hell. But what was one more at that point? It would take me more than that to get over her, which was fact.
I thought about what she was offering. She wanted me to wait. More. A year. A year wouldn’t be so bad as long as we still had communication. Without that, I’d smother in my head. She asked me for time to ease out of a marriage that looked great on paper, but shitty on the wall.
We could at least count on Reggie to be on our side. He never liked Grant to begin with, according to Blake.
But could I patiently wait while she went back to him?
I answered the best I could, the only answer I ever had for her. “You know I can't say no. That's what this is all about. I can't say no to anything you ask of me, and you can never say yes to me in return.”
“I say yes to you more than you know.” Blake sat up and hugged her knees. “I say yes to you on the inside.”
That made sense. It was f*cked up and nobody else could possibly get what she meant, but to me, that was real.
“Don't make me wait too long. Please, Blake. Not a year,” I pleaded.
She didn't go to work on Monday. I showed her how I made my first homebrews in the basement and we decided that someday she'd make one of her own.
We talked about things we'd never discussed before. Things that were listed under the category of Future. Each moment felt almost fictional.
She worked on Tuesday and the rest of the week. Things moved. The cogs of life started to turn.
We even had Cory, Micah and Foster over on the weekend.
If I was going to win a life like the one I was pretending was real, then the wait would be worth it.
It was perfect. I felt relief like I'd never known. Having Blake around morning and night, being able to touch or kiss her on cue of any whim I had to do so, was f*cking life changing. It was like that time she let me sample the cheesecake, giving me just a taste so that I knew what I was fighting for.