Page 79 of Dial L for Lawyer
My phone buzzes again, insistent this time.
Bennett:
911. Get to the office. Now.
"Shit." I show her the text. "I have to go."
"It's fine. I should probably go home anyway?—"
"No." I pull her closer. "Stay. Please. Raid my fridge. Use my ridiculously huge TV to watch your serial killers. Order food if there's nothing here you like. Just be here when I get back."
"Caleb—"
"I just told you I love you while you're ugly crying in my kitchen wearing my favorite t-shirt. You think I'm letting you run now?"
She laughs, watery but real. "Fine. But I'm going to take a bath in that huge tub of yours and use all your fancy products."
"Use everything. Reorganize my entire apartment. Set fire to my suits. Graffiti the walls. I don't care as long as you're here when I get back."
"How long will you be?"
"Few hours max. I'll bring lunch. Thai food from that place you love."
"You want me to text my Thai order?"
"I'm pretty sure you told me once already. Let's see… Pad Thai, extra peanuts, medium spice even though you want hot but it gives you heartburn."
"Your memory is creepy."
"That's love."
She shakes her head but she's smiling. "Go. Before Bennett sends a search party."
I kiss her once more, pouring everything I am into it. "Don't run."
"I won't."
"Promise?"
"I promise."
As I grab my keys and head for the door, she calls out, "Caleb?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you."
"For what?"
"For everything you are."
"Of course, sweetheart."
I leave before I can change my mind about going to the office at all. The last image I have is her inmykitchen, drowning inmyclothes, looking like she belongs there.
Because she does.
She absolutely does.
