Most of the time, it felt like he was making a slow climb up a steep mountain carry a big-ass rock on his back, but at least he was climbing. That was a victory in and of itself. And he was working on giving himself some credit. Baby steps, man, that’s what he was all about these days.
Sitting on the bed in Joe’s guest room, Caden dragged the cardboard box full of unopened mail in front of him. Joe had brought it over from Caden’s house after his shift the evening before. Now that Caden was rocking out all this basic functioning, it was time for him to try to take care of a few other key parts of his life. Like paying his mortgage. And keeping the damn electricity current so his place would have heat. Last thing he needed was to come home from this little sojourn at Chez Flaherty to find his pipes burst and his basement flooded.
He sorted through the box. Bill, bill, bill. Junk, junk, junk. Magazine, magazine. An invitation to the wedding of one of the guys at the station. More bills, some of them stamped Second Notice. Tons of fucking junk. A Christmas card.
He did a double take at the return address.
A Christmas card from Makenna.
He stared at it for a long moment. He’d walked out on her…and she’d sent him a Christmas card?
His gut clenched. He flipped the envelope over. Stared at the sealed flap. And finally ripped through it.
The card actually made him smile—and he couldn’t remember when he’d last done that. It had a picture of a miserable blond-haired boy wearing a pink bunny costume and read, He looks like a deranged Easter bunny!
From The Christmas Story movie. A freaking classic.
Leave it to Makenna.
As fast as he’d managed that smile, it slid back off his face. They could’ve watched that together, sharing stupid humor movies like they always had. More than that, they could’ve celebrated Christmas together. Their first. If Caden hadn’t fallen the fuck apart.
How much more of his present and his future was he going to let his past destroy?
Fuck.
He heaved a deep breath. Eyes on the prize, Grayson. Getting better. Getting whole. Rebuilding his life. And making right all the things he’d done wrong.
Hesitating just one more moment, he opened the card. There was no printed text on the inside, just Makenna’s looping handwriting.
Dear Caden,
I just wanted you to know that I’m thinking of you. And if you need me, I’m here for you. I can’t say I understand what happened between us, only that I’m willing to listen. I don’t deserve more than you, because there is nothing more than you for me.
I still love…that elevator.
Merry Christmas,
Makenna
Caden read it over and over until he had the words memorized. He could still hear her voice saying I love that elevator that very first night they’d met. After hours of being trapped in the elevator and the most incredible sex of his life, she’d invited him to stay the night with her. When they’d settled into each other’s arms, she’d blurted out, I love… And then she’d covered herself by adding that elevator. Caden had thought it was cute. It had given him hope that maybe she was feeling him with the same crazy intensity that he’d been feeling her. And in the days and weeks that followed, that had seemed to be true.
Until, somewhere along the way, he’d stopped trusting himself, the situation, his happiness, and maybe even her. He knocked his numb-ass skull back against the headboard. In that moment, he wouldn’t have been surprised if a cartoon lightbulb suddenly appeared over his head. He’d stopped trusting her…not to abandon him. And so he’d done the leaving.
He’d made his own worst fears come true.
Brilliant fucking job.
Blowing out a long breath, he rubbed his fingers over what she’d written. There is nothing more than you for me. Could she really believe that? And could he get himself to a place where he did, too?
He picked up the envelope and found the postmark—she’d sent the card on December twentieth. Almost four weeks ago. He knew it was expecting too much to hope she might wait for him, to wait for him to be better. Not just for her, but for both of them. Especially when she had no way of knowing that he was trying to find his way back to himself, so he might earn a chance to come back to her.
He looked at what she’d written again. Once, twice, he swallowed around a lump that had lodged in his throat, and then he whispered, “Aw, Red. I still love that elevator, too.”
*
The next week, Caden moved home and started back to work. He’d been off for almost six weeks and he was starting to go stir crazy sitting around Joe’s house. It was time to get a life. His.
Truth be told, he was fucking nervous about walking back into the firehouse again. No doubt the rumors were flying about what had happened to him, especially given how bad a shape he’d been in those last few days on the job. And if the guys didn’t have an idea of what might’ve been going on with him before, they’d probably get the gist just by looking at him—while he’d gained twelve pounds back so far, he was still down twenty from where he’d been at the beginning of December.
A shadow of his former self, maybe, but no longer a ghost.