The Exception (The Exception #1)

“I mean, unless you had plans …” I looked at her skeptically, worried that I had hurt her feelings by not wanting to hang out.

“No,” Heather said quickly. “No, not at all. Actually,” she said, wiping the counter nervously, “I was going to go to Brian’s. He, um, he needs my help with something. I probably won’t be back until morning, if that’s all right.”

“Yeah, have fun,” I smiled. “I will see you tomorrow sometime.”

“Bye, Jada,” Heather said, smiling. She grabbed her keys out of the basket on the counter and headed to the front door.

I watched her leave and stood there, looking around the empty house, feeling the emptiness seep into my bones.

I kicked off my tennis shoes and left them, too depressed to even bother to pick them up. I shrugged off my jacket as I walked down the hallway to my room, smiling sadly when I saw Cane’s t-shirt on my chest. It was one of the few physical mementos I had of him and it made me feel like there was still some connection, like he was still close.

I opened my bedroom door and stopped dead in my tracks, my hand still on the doorknob.

On my bedside table sat a red plastic cup and a plate of chocolate chip cookies. Cane’s scent was everywhere and I wondered how that was possible.

My heart raced as a chill ran down my spine. A mixture of confusion and hope melded together with memories and I could barely stand. I pushed the door farther open and tears sprang to my eyes.

He stood by the window, his hands in his pockets, eyes conflicted and as beautiful as ever. A smile broke out across his face tentatively, as if he were afraid to really believe what he was seeing, too.

I forced air into my lungs as I removed my shaking hand from the knob.

“Jada,” Cane said, his voice rough and needy.

“Cane,” I gasped. “You’re all right? I don’t understand … how? What are you doing here?”

“I’m just coming after my girl.” He grinned nervously and my legs began to go weak.

“I—”

“Simon was arrested last night, Jada. I don’t know the details because I didn’t ask. As soon as Nick told me, I hung up and called the airline to get here as soon as possible. All I could think about was getting here to you.”

I felt a huge weight lift, rising up off my shoulders. I felt like I could breathe again.

“So, he’s not a threat anymore?” I asked hopefully, the sting of tears blurring my vision. “You’re okay? You are going to be fine?”

“Yes, baby, I’m fine. And no, Simon is not a threat anymore. Not to me and, more importantly, not to you.”

My knees buckled and my shoulders sagged with relief. Thank you, God. Thank you. I wasn’t sure of anything else, but if this was the only thing I could be certain of—it was enough. Cane was safe.

Cane took a step towards me. He was a mess. His clothing wrinkled, a five o’clock shadow lining the jawline that I loved to kiss. His eyes were swollen and I wondered if he had been staying up at night, too, thinking about me … about us.

“Jada, it’s over. It’s all over now.”

My head felt light, like the room was spinning, and I shuffled my way to the bed and sat on the edge. The revelation that Simon was locked away, that Cane was all right, that no one was looking for me anymore … that Cane was standing in front of me was too much.

I put my head in my hands, forcing air in my lungs.

It’s over.

My mind was racing, not quite believing the words I was hearing. This is too good to be true. I struggled for air, my lungs feeling compressed. What does this mean? Does this mean everything is okay now? Am I supposed to just go home and pretend this never happened? This is the end of Simon, maybe, but is this the beginning for Cane and I?

There was just too much to think about, too much to consider. Too many things to be thankful for and too many things to worry about.

Cane crossed the room quickly, kneeling in front of me. He kissed the top of my head, wrapping his arms around me.

The feeling of touching him calmed a part of my soul, healed a piece of my heart that had been hanging in the balance.

His touch was warm, a mixture of hard and soft that was uniquely Cane. He smelled of cedar and a hint of tobacco. It made me feel at home.

I felt pieced back together as he wrapped me in his arms. My world was righted again. That up was a viable option.

“I am so sorry.” His voice started to break. There was a vulnerability in him that I had never seen before.

I reached up and wrapped my arms around his chest. Emboldened by my action, Cane scooted me to the edge of the bed, pulling me in.

“I am so sorry,” he repeated again, his voice barely a whisper against my skin.

I ran my fingers through his hair, longer than I had remembered, not sure what to say. Everything was still in such disarray, such a convoluted mess.

I couldn’t find the words that he needed to hear and I didn’t know the truths of my feelings to share. So I said the one thing, in the midst of all the disorder in my head, that I was certain of.