Page 64 of Caleb's Salvation
His wife, Sarah.
His daughter, Emily.
And Caleb. Caleb happy in a way I’d never seen him. In a way I’d never made him
“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, I didn’t—”
“Swing your legs around to the other side of the desk,” he said laying the picture down flat on the shelf. “Get down over there and I’ll hand you your clothes.”
I did, standing on the other side of his desk. Naked and freezing suddenly, where I’d been so blissfully hot only seconds ago.
Dutifully, he handed me my panties and bra. Then my jeans and sweater. Finally, my socks and boots. The whole time neither of us said anything.
“Caleb…” I had no words. No condolences to express. It was just a frame. It could be replaced, and the picture would live on inside of that frame. Intellectually, I knew that. But this felt like something bigger.
Like I’d broken something inside of him.
“You need to go now, Vivienne,” he said softly. Gently. My evil villain suddenly gone. “You can make it back if it starts snowing?”
I nodded.
“The cabin—”
“I’m staying with Zeke and Eve. Zeke was worried about the cold.”
He swallowed and nodded. “I should’ve thought of that.”
“Caleb,” I said reaching for him because it felt like he was falling down some deep chasm, each second getting farther and farther away from me.
He sat heavily in his chair then turned his back toward me. “Please, Vivienne. Please just go.”
Swallowing a sob, there was nothing else I could do.
17
Hope’s Point Airport—akathe runway
The next day
Cal
In the end, there was only one thing left I could do. I couldn’t ask her to leave. She was building a life here. She had a job, friends, eventually she’d need something bigger for her and Sam than the cabin, but I had no doubt the community would figure out what she might need and make that happen for her.
There were plenty of men. A lot of good men, single men. If Ty wasn’t a fit, there would be others. Men who would die for a chance at her sweetness. Her shyness. Her incredible bravery.
Her love.
That’s why I had to be the one to leave. I left a note for Angel. Told him he was in charge until I settled things with Dyson. Told Frank at corporate I needed extended time off. It wasn’t the most unusual request for someone who’d been stationed somewhere in Alaska for the past seven years. For most, if you weren’t from Alaska, eventually the Lower 48 would call you home.
I didn’t pull the trigger on quitting. I wasn’t worried about money or anything else. I had more money than I would ever know what to do with, but I would need to work again. Somewhere. After all, work was all I had. All I would let myself have.
Dyson had operations around the world. Maybe there was one where they might transfer me to. The reality was I could probably write my ticket to any job that appealed to me. But that decision was for later.
Now was about getting away.
Running away. A habit I’d formed early with Vivienne.
Fucking twenty-six-year-old almost virgin with a kid in tow and she’d brought me,me, crumbling to my knees. Pathetic.
