Poison Me Sweetly (23 page)

Caleb’s mouth opens, then he seems to change his mind
about what he was going to say. “They were wrong, Zoey. They fucked up, but
it's not because of anything you did, sweetheart. You can hide behind that
mouth of yours all you want, but you are a kind and giving person. I have a
feeling you've always been that way, and I'm sure they saw it each and every
day. You did
nothing
wrong.”

I stare at him for a long moment. I hear what he's
saying, but I just don't believe it. Actions speak louder than anything else,
and they'd abandoned me. “People leave me,” I whisper brokenly.

Caleb's eyes close briefly, and when they open a
second later, his hands lift as they frame the sides of my face, his eyes
growing determined. “No. Micah was an accident. As for your parents, I can't explain
their reasoning for what they did, only they can. But no one else has left you,
Zoey. Ace, Jeremy, and AJ have fought tooth and nail to keep you in their
lives. I'm here, too. No one's abandoning you.” He has a firm grasp on my face,
and I’m sure he won’t let me go even if I try to pull back. So I shift my eyes
away from his as I struggle with all the emotions that have been brought to the
surface. I wasn't prepared for any of it, and I don't know what to do with it
all.

“I know you're hurting. I know you're scarred from the
past, but it'll get it easier if you deal with it instead of avoiding it. Zoey,
look at me.”

I reluctantly meet his steady gaze again.

His eyes survey mine as he says, “You might get pissed
at me for saying this, and if that's what happens, then so be it. But it needs
to be said. I think you have signs of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder and maybe
depression.”

“What?” I ask faintly. I try to pull back from his
hands, but he won't let me go. He keep his hands framing my face, his eyes and
lips only mere inches from mine. He's not letting me go until he has his say.
Oddly enough, I'm not fighting him on this, at least not as much as I should.
Maybe it's because I sense he might be on to something. I've always known
there's something wrong with me. But I never considered looking into finding
answers for the way I act these days.

“Don't get mad, but I spoke to one of my professors
about you. I didn't give him your name or anything. I just told him that I have
a friend that seems to be going through some pretty tough stuff. I laid out
everything I've noticed, especially these debilitating nightmares that you
have, and he agrees with me. The nightmares, your anger, your indifference,
your evident preoccupation with death... It all makes sense now.”

My brows pull together. “What are you saying?”

“I'm saying you have a disorder. You're not dealing
with the trauma of what happened, and it's building up within you. You need to
talk about Micah. You need to confront your parents, do everything you've been
too scared to do. Let it
out
.”

“Easy for you to say,” I say waspishly as I jerk my
head out of his hands. It's easy to tell someone else how to get better when
they're not the one's standing in your shoes. Perhaps this was a mistake after
all.

“I know it's not easy,” Caleb says patiently, ignoring
my anger. “Death fucking sucks, Zoey. It rips you to pieces. It wreaks havoc on
your mind, and it can be debilitating. It’ll continue to manifest within you,
warping your sense of reality if you let it. Keeping people at a distance and
being closed off isn’t healthy. Neither are these nightmares you have.  It
won’t ever go away if you don’t come to terms with Micah’s death.”

Everything within me freezes as I latch on to the one
thing that has gotten through to me. “You said it can wreak havoc on the mind,
warping one’s sense of reality. Does this include hallucinations?” It's the
only thing I can grasp on to at that moment as I search his gaze intently.

“Yes,” he says simply. “Hallucinating a loved one can
be another step in someone's grieving process. Some people hallucinate to
comfort themselves, and that can be a good thing, it allows them to find peace
with their loved one so they can move on. Everyone grieves differently.”

“So it's normal?” I ask hoarsely.

His eyes sharpen, and his gaze searches mine. “Have
you been hallucinating Micah?”

I swallow hard and nod. “I thought... I thought I was
going crazy. I...” My eyes search his anxiously. “I'm not? I'm not going mental,
Caleb?”

“No, Zoey. You're just struggling to heal,” he says
softly as he draws me into his arms, holding me tightly against his chest.

I'm right where I'd tried to avoid, but I can't help
but relax into him as tears of relief begin to slide down my face. “I thought I
was going insane,” I choke out as I fight back a sob.

“No. You're just hurting, and you don't know how to
deal with it,” he says gently as he rubs my back.

I hold onto him tightly, my hands clenching into the
fabric of his shirt on his back as I accept his comfort. I struggle for
composure, because I don't want to break down. Not in Caleb's arms. I need to
try to keep my head on straight while I'm with him. Eventually, I manage to
pull back, and I wipe at a stray tear. Then, I look at him calmly. “Tell me
again about this disorder stuff.”

He goes on to explain about the symptoms of PTSD and
depression. I find myself relating to everything he says. My highs are high,
but my lows are so low. I was never a violent person before Micah died, but now
I've resorted to violence a few times when I'm angry—case in point, kicking Ace
in the stomach in the bathroom and Caleb's nearly dislocated jaw. He tells me
about suicidal ideation. About how one thinks about taking their own life but
never really makes plans to do so. The thought’s there, but that's as far as it
goes. I find myself going back in my mind, thinking of times when I have
thought of what it’d be like if I was no longer here. I’ve never planned it in
my mind, but there’s been times when the thought has been there. Like when I’d
wanted to go into the ocean Saturday night. The idea of possibly joining Micah…

Holy crap. Is this really what's wrong with me? I'm
still fucked up, but at least I have some answers now.

When he's finished explaining it to me, I pull back
from him, distancing myself physically as I drop my head into my hands and draw
in a deep breath. My eyes shut, and I feel overwhelmed. Why hadn't I ever
thought about researching what I’ve been feeling? I knew I was angry, that it
seems to control me sometimes instead of me controlling it. The numbness I
feel, the misery that seems to hover around me... Shit. That darkness within
me, I thought it was the beginnings of insanity, but instead it's depression?
The twisted nightmares that torture me over and over again are from a disorder?

I swallow hard as I process it all.

My mind isn't broken. I'm not insane. When I see
Micah, it's actually my subconscious trying to help me with my grief? I don't
know what to do with all this information.

“Zoey?” Caleb asks gently.

At the sound of his voice cutting into my racing
thoughts, my shoulders tense. “Just give me a minute,” I say, my voice muffled
from my hands. This is just too much right now. I want to be alone to think. I
drop my hands and look at him, my expression wary. “I need some time to process
it all. I had no idea... I never thought to look for answers.” I bite my lip
and meet his gaze, which is watchful and intent as he studies me. “I just want
to go home.”

He stares at me with an intensity that warms my blood.
“I know you're feeling overwhelmed right now, I can see it in your eyes. But I
have more to say. I can't sit back any more like I have been. Maybe now is a
shitty time to do this, but for once I have your undivided attention, there's
no one to interrupt, and you have nowhere to run off to. I feel like if I don't
take advantage of this moment, it's not going to happen. There won't be a right
time for the conversation I want to have with you. So I need you to hear me
out, okay?”

I haven't a clue what he wants to tell me, and I've
never been one for surprises. I draw my knees up to my chest, immediately
feeling defensive. I don't bother to hide my unease as I gaze back at him
warily.

His lips curve down slightly, and he runs a hand
through his hair as if he's second guessing himself. He then seems to make some
sort of decision, because a hint of resolve flickers across his face. His eyes
hold mine as he says, “I know I told you I'd be your friend. That we would keep
things strictly platonic, and I will respect that if that's what you want. But
Zoey, you have to know I want more.” My mouth falls open before I realize it's
dropped. I quickly snap it shut, and he frowns at me when he sees my reaction.
“Why do you look so surprised? We're always flirting, and I’m pretty sure all
our dirty thoughts about each other are written on our faces when we're in the
same room.”

I feel like I've got a sudden case of whiplash. Once
second I'm learning that I'm likely suffering from a disorder and the next
Caleb is telling me he wants more? What does he mean by that? Is he after a
'friends with benefits' relationship like I'd had with Jeremy? Wait—what about
his girlfriend?

Caleb's blue eyes narrow on mine. “I need to know what
you're thinking. Going by the expressions on your face, I've blindsided you. I
thought you had some sort of idea of what I feel for you, and you were ignoring
it because of your issues with getting close to anyone.”

My mouth opens, but I'm not sure what to say. I should
have something ready to roll off my tongue, whether it's snarky or joking. But
this...

This man confuses me on so many levels.

Caleb sighs heavily. “Fuck, I wasn’t expecting you to
be speechless. I need you to talk and tell me what you’re thinking, and you go
silent on me.”

I say the first thing that pops into my mind. “You
have a girlfriend.”

He gives me a strange look. “What makes you think I
have a girlfriend?”

“She's hanging on you all the time. That pretty
blonde.” Just thinking of her has me feeling disgruntled. That blonde has been
staking
her claim every time I've seen them together.

Realization flickers across Caleb’s face. “Oh. You
weren't supposed to think she's my girlfriend.”

“What exactly was I supposed to think?”

He rubs the nape of his neck, looking slightly
sheepish. “I let her hang on me when I thought you might be around. We went out
once, but I'm not interested in what she's offering.”

“What the hell, Caleb? Why would you let her hang all
over you when I was around?” I ask with confusion and irritation. All this time
I'd been torturing myself over some dumb blonde that wasn't even his.

He shoots me a look. “You've got a reputation, Zoey.
You don't get close to anyone. I started learning that if I showed too much
interest in you, you tended to back off. I figured maybe you'd let me get to
know you if you thought I wasn't all that interested in anything serious. And
then I fucked up and got drunk, drowning my shit in alcohol, because I had my
ex on my mind. I treated you terribly that night and acted like a complete
ass,” he says quietly.

“It's done and forgotten,” I assure.

His eyes search mine as if he's trying to reassure
himself that I have indeed forgiven him. He nods in acceptance when he sees
whatever he's searching for in my gaze.

“Can I ask what happened with your ex?” I ask, because
now that he’s brought it up, I’m beyond curious.

“I’ll tell you anything you want. I’m an open book
where you’re concerned, because I won’t hide anything from you.” He runs a hand
through his hair, and I get the impression he’s not thrilled with the change of
topic but he’s going to go with it. “Cara and I were high school sweethearts,”
he tells me. “Up until this past summer, we’d been together for five years. I
caught her cheating with my best friend and we broke up.” He shrugs. “I didn’t
feel like running into them constantly, because our town isn’t all that big, so
I decided to transfer for a while. I’ve never been out of Tennessee, so the
idea of doing something new was quite appealing. I found out that she’s
pregnant with his kid the night I got drunk.”

I search his gaze intently, and there’s not much there
to see. I see a hint of regret, and of course some bitterness, but other than
that, he doesn’t seem too torn up over the matter. “Five years is a long time.
I’m sorry,” I say cautiously.

Caleb shakes his head, his eyes trained on mine. “I’ve
learned something in the past few weeks. You want to know what I’ve figured
out?
”

“Um, what?”

“I wasn’t in love with her anymore. I don’t know if I
was ever
really
in love with her. I think we just got used to being
together and stuck it out. Because a lot of the feelings I have for you, I
definitely haven’t felt towards her in a long, long time,” he says bluntly.

And just like that, we’re back to our earlier conversation.
I’m having such a hard time believing that he cares about me.

“It sunk in just how much I like you the night I got
drunk. I don’t even think it was her I was upset about, I think it bothered me
more that they moved on so easily with me out of the picture. Carter was my
best friend, it still stings that he hooked up with her behind my back, and I
think I’m more upset over our relationship, than mine with her.” He looks a bit
guilty as he says, “I'm not going to lie. Before that, I was just hoping for
good sex with you. But the more I got to know you, the more I started seeing
you. All I've wanted to do is be there for you. I know you're in a bad place
right now. I completely get that. But I want to be there with you when things
are good and when things are bad. I want you to let me in so we can see if
maybe, just maybe, you and I could have something good together. Something
real.”