I'm not closeCaleb had outdoor heaters installed around the secret garden, the space he built that I told you about here and here (I can't call it a grotto because that just makes me think of the Playboy mansion so secret garden it shall remain). They are heaters similar to the ones down on the dock but these ones come on automatically through some magical combination of temperature sensing and motion detection so I don't have to fuss with them, and they're set for my comfort which is a nice touch and as always, completely over the top.
I'm not safe
I don't know, am I better off in chains?
The one is not aware, so stay away from me
I'm just too young to care
I found out when I ventured outside with a sketchbook and headphones and a second cup of coffee very early this morning. Halfway across the lawn I decided it was too cold but figured I would check it out for a few minutes anyway. Surprisingly it was toasty-warm in minutes under the canopy of leaves and I realized there were three heaters built in to the top of the retaining wall.
Godammit. If he can control the weather now I'm doomed.
I can't control the weather, I just tried to think of everything you might need, he answers. I jump fifty feet, shrieking at him not to do that.
That's a poor reaction for someone who's been given a space such as this to call her own. I've been waiting for you to come out here for days.
I don't recall asking for this so exactly how grateful would you like me to be? I adore this part of the yard and may never touch down on the back patio again (I kid! Duncan is back there. I'll be there). But if Caleb only did it to get my thankfulness then forget it. He can bulldoze it over and the forest can reclaim it.
I want you to acknowledge that your champagne tastes rival your amusement park budget and that the rat is out of his league.
Just because I like champagne doesn't mean I'll die if I can't have it. I'm fine with water.
From the bucket outside a barn somewhere in a town you couldn't name if there was a gun to your head?
The very same (I wince at his description. How fitting that is.).
And you want to scrounge around for dinner pennies-
Nickels, now. Pennies are being phased out.
-Dinner nickels only to go to sleep hungry because there isn't enough?
Sure. Doesn't bother me.
You looked pretty impressed last time I flew you to dinner. You seem to enjoy yourself when we engage in...extraordinary experiences that you can't find among people who don't have the means I do, Bridget.
I never said I was immune to decadence, just that I won't choose it.
We're only on earth for a limited time.
He pops the balloon of abstract theory. Yes. I'm aware.
Bridget, I want to spoil you. I want to give you an easy life. When we're together it isn't difficult, it's seamless and electric and comfortable. You fit beside me. You complete me.
That's from Jerry Maguire.
You drive me fucking nuts.
I'm sure that's from Gangster Number One. Or maybe Goodfellas.
I don't care. I just know that Ben isn't capable of looking after you when he can't look after himself and Lochlan doesn't have the means to support a family. Neither one of them can commit to a thing-
You know the best part of your pissing contest with Lochlan? He never mentions you, or Ben or money. Or what he can give me. He only talks about being so in love with me, about it being right, that it's meant to be. That we have something so amazing. All you want to do is fix a price and make your aquistion.
That isn't true. I'm pragmatic. I focus on numbers first.
Well, that's wrong.
That's practical. He isn't. I don't know why you say he is. I am showing you my concrete plans, concrete means. No one can live on glitter and fireworks and candy. You found that out the hard way.
There is nothing bad in Lochlan's universe. And I can't live with a gun to my head which is how you get your way, Caleb.
If I adopt his methods it will destroy you. You want me to talk about history? You want me to talk about how I fucked up and in the process I managed to not only not take you away from Loch but I lost you to my brother too? Want me to talk about lying awake nights planning pointless trips and business emergencies to bring you on to save your life? Want me to talk about lying awake nights beside you while you cried through your nightmares, telling me things I could hardly believe? Want me to talk about needing years of therapy to let go of you when you asked me to go away knowing you were staying with Cole? Want me to tell you about a loneliness so fucking deep it's destroying my heart in slow motion? I can talk about that, Bridget, but I don't think you would like it very much.
Brought your verbal guns today, I see.
Limited time, Princess. That's all we have. A limited time.
The only reason Lochlan and I didn't survive on the road was because you changed things. That's YOUR fault, not his.
The aftermath was all his, baby. Don't pin his helplessness on me.
You set us up! Jesus Christ, what was he supposed to do?
He was supposed to be a man!
Oh, LIKE YOU WERE?
His mouth opened to keep going but his eyes changed from triumphant to horrified and he didn't say anything.
I want to fix things, Bridget.
Then leave me the hell alone.
Come tonight. Bring him and we'll talk. Something has to change. He turned on his heel and went inside, leaving me alone to shiver in spite of the heat.