“Come on, love,” Caiden says, hooking his hand through her elbow. “They’ll be looking for you.”
She peels away from me and Caiden wraps her snugly under his arm. I let them get a few steps ahead before I follow. He kisses the top of her head as they walk and whispers something in her ear. She looks up at him and I watch her whole stance visibly soften.
And I finally get it.
Blaire told me who you fall in love with is completely out of your control. There’s no doubt that Blaire’s heart and soul belong to Caiden, and she has his in return.
I trot up the stairs behind them. Inside, she’s directed by the D.A. to an interview room. She holds onto Caiden for an extra moment when they tell him he’s not allowed to stay with her. When she lets him go, we find a bench in the hallway and sit.
“Thank you,” I say, my eyes tracing the edges of the black and white tiles on the floor.
“For?” Caiden says.
“For helping her when I couldn’t.”
In the corner of my eye, I see him look at me. “None of this is your fault.”
In his voice, I hear his anguish. After everything that’s happened with Addie and me, I understand his motivations a little better. He went to jail for loving Blaire. When he got out, there was a restraining order. Had he violated it, he would have gone back to prison for much longer. And Blaire was already “with” Nate when he got out. He thought she was happy. None of us realized the truth.
“It’s not yours either,” I say.
When the door opens an hour later, Caiden is on his feet before Blaire’s even out of the room. It’s Caiden’s comfort her eyes seek, and for a second, I’m jealous. But then it occurs to me that sometimes I catch Addie looking at me the same way. I want to be for her what Caiden is for Blaire. The calm in the eye of the storm. Safe haven.
Blaire’s eyes are swollen and by the time she falls into his arms, she’s crying again.
“He’s going away, Blaire,” I tell her, bile choking my words. I hate that I’m the reason for this—that my best friend did this to her.
“It’s out of her hands now,” Caiden says, stroking her hair as she sobs into his shoulder. The voice of reason. “She’s done everything she can.”
That’s what this was about. Blaire’s version of what I told Addie about letting herself live. She needed this to feel okay about herself.
“You are just about the bravest fucking person I’ve ever met,” I tell her.
She blows out a laugh along with some snot as she peels herself off her husband’s shoulder. “Not so much, but thanks.”
Blaire and Caiden keep an arm tightly wrapped around the other’s waist as we walk to the parking lot, but Blaire reaches for mine with her free hand. “Any word on your trial date?” she asks.
I shake my head. “Diaz is still rounding up fake witnesses. That takes a while, I guess.”
“She made my life hell,” Blaire says, squeezing my hand, “but it was different with Caiden. They had video and we got, you know, sort of caught in the act, so…”
I haven’t told Blaire everything because she asked me not to, in case Detective Diaz decides to question her. They have a history, after all. But she knows anyway. Which is why she gave me the key to her apartment and told me if I ever needed “alone” time it was all mine.
“Corinne’s still sticking to her story that I coerced her into having sex with me, and Deanna is backing her. I may as well have been ‘caught in the act.’”
Blaire shakes her head. “But you weren’t, so they won’t be able to prove anything.” She pulls me into a hug. “And you know our apartment is still available if you ever need some private time,” she adds low in my ear.
I smile. “Aiding and abetting.”
She shrugs. “Causing trouble. It’s what I do best.”
Caiden offers his hand. “Good luck, man. If you ever need to talk or whatever, I’ve been there.”
I give him a nod as we shake. “Thanks.”
They climb in their car and I watch them pull away. They got their happy ending. It’s going to be the fight of my life for mine.
When I get to my truck, I fish out my phone. As desperate as I’ve been to talk to her, I haven’t called Addie. So far, no one’s come after my phone records, and if they do, I’m screwed. But right now, I need to hear her voice.
I dial the hotel and when the desk clerk answers, I ask for Addie’s room. A woman with a heavy accent picks up.
“Um…is this room eighteen?”
“I think so.” I hear rustling as she covers the phone and yells the question to someone. A male voice comes back with an affirmative.
“Did the…there was a girl there.” All I can think is I somehow got the wrong room, but they’re saying no. “When did you check in?” I ask, my head clearing enough to figure out what I need to know.
“Yesterday.”
“Fuck,” I say, disconnecting.
I go to the call log. I must have missed a call from her telling me what’s going on. I look for the hotel number. For any number that doesn’t look familiar.