His Jeep parked in a spot behind Makenna’s building, Caden didn’t know what he was doing there. He head and his heart were still a fucked-up wreck, and he had no idea what he’d even say if he saw her. He had no more clarity, no more certainty, no more faith in himself than when he’d left there Tuesday night. And the last thing he wanted to do was hurt her more than he’d undoubtedly already done.
All he knew was that he’d been drifting through life for days—more ghost than human—until he’d finally gravitated there.
Like she was the sun to his dark planet.
Not at all sure he was doing the right thing—for her—he hauled his ass out of the Jeep and made his way to her place. By the stairs again, offuckingcourse.
His head had gotten so bad that he’d not only admitted just how bad to his captain, but he’d taken a leave of absence. For the first time in nine years of doing this job, he didn’t feel that he was fully competent, and the last thing he wanted was to make a mistake that would cost someone everything. He wouldn’t be able to live with that.
And he was holding on by a very thin string.
He’d also given in and gone to the doctor for meds, and even went back to see his old therapist. Dr. Ward was in his late forties now, and his hair was a little grayer and his waistline a little wider, but otherwise, he looked pretty much like Caden remembered.
So far, Caden had only had one session with the guy, and it had worsened his nightmares. Talking had always been like that for him—stirring shit up so that it got worse before it got better. But he had to try something. Because feeling like this wasn’t tenable.
When Caden got to the apartment door, he knocked. Waited. Knocked again. He had a key, of course, but given how he’d left things on Tuesday night, he thought he owed her the respect of knocking. When she still didn’t answer after knocking a third time, he let himself in.
Everything was quiet and dark—only the under-counter lamp in the kitchen threw off any light.
Caden heaved a deep breath. An ache ballooned inside his chest. An ache for Makenna. He missed her something fierce. It felt like a part of himself had been ripped away, the edges still jagged and raw. But that’s what he was—all jagged, raw, festering wounds from one loss after another.
And it didn’t seem like a single one of them had healed.
He wandered through the darkness and into her bedroom. He sat down on the bed. Makenna’s scent was stronger here. Her vanilla skin lotion. Her strawberry shampoo. The coconut hand cream she rubbed on before bed each night. He breathed those hints of her in, needing to carry some small part of her with him.
Knock, knock, knock.
Frowning, Caden forced himself up and to the front door. A quick peak through the spyhole revealed a delivery man of some sort. Caden opened the door.
“Makenna James?” the delivery man said. At his feet sat a huge vase of red roses.
“She’s not home,” Caden said, staring at the flowers.
“Would you please sign for me then, sir?” He thrust a clipboard at Caden, who scrawled an unintelligible line at the X. The guy retreated down the hall.
Caden bent down and grasped the crystal vase. Carried it to the kitchen counter, the door slamming closed behind him. Placed it down. And stared some more—at the little envelope sitting among the fat, red blooms.
With a sinking feeling in his gut, he pulled the envelope free and opened it. The card read:
Take as much time as you need. I’ll be here. And I love you. ~CH
CH. Cameron Hollander. Sonofafuckingbitch.
Without returning the card to the envelope, Caden slipped both back into the plastic holder, his gaze glued to the other man’s words.
Caden hadn’t been able to deal with Makenna saying she loved him and hadn’t been able to give her the words back, yet here was Cameron giving them to her again and again. Which was exactly what Makenna deserved.
Jesus Christ. Hands braced against the counter, Caden found himself having to breathe through a sudden clenching tightness in his chest.
Makenna deserved…someone like Cameron. Someone whole, someone unbroken, someone with his shit together. Caden was not that man. Hell, right now, Caden wasn’t even the man Makenna had met in that damn elevator. At best, he was a ghost of his former self, and that guy hadn’t even been fully squared away.
Maybe Makenna didn’t want Cameron like she once did, but she deserved someone who could do what Cameron could—and what Caden couldn’t.
And that was all Caden needed to know.
Disappointment and frustration and sadness and anger whirled inside him. He forced himself away from those fucking flowers before he hurled them across the room just for the satisfaction of seeing them shattered and broken—a mirror of how he felt inside.
Not quite sure what he was doing, he stalked back to the bedroom. Flicked on the light. Stood there. On the nightstand next to his side of the bed lay a military thriller he’d been reading a few pages at a time before going to sleep.
He grabbed it.
Suddenly, he was grabbing everything of his that was there. Uniforms. Clothes. Shoes. Toiletries. He didn’t deserve to be in Makenna’s life, not when he couldn’t give her what she needed, what she wanted, and what she deserved. He had to do the right thing. For her.