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My heart sped up in anticipation. So much hinged on Cat’s acceptance of Michael’s plan. He began to explain and I mentally crossed my fingers.
o;How did you … get better?” He stared at me intently, searching for an answer I couldn’t give him, no matter how much I wished I could.
“All those drugs in my system stopped me from seeing the rips. Eventually, the doctors lightened my dosage, and I learned to keep my mouth shut about what I saw. I stopped taking my meds last Christmas. Meeting Michael … has made it all easier.”
“Did he tell you how my parents met?”
“No,” I said. “But Cat told me a little bit about their relationship.”
Kaleb leaned back in his chair, propping the sole of one sneaker against the edge of the table. “My dad is … was such a typical scientist. Crazy hair, clothes that never matched. My mom always had it together. She used to be an actress. They met when he was a technical adviser on a sci-fi movie she was in.”
“What’s your mom’s name?”
“Grace. Her stage name was Grace—”
“Walker.” I interrupted as the resemblance struck me. “You look exactly like her.”
“Lucky for me.” He grinned. “They married six weeks after they met.”
“That’s amazing.”
“Their connection was unreal, deep. My dad saw rips his whole life, but it didn’t start for my mom until they met.”
“Did it terrify her?”
“She had my dad.”
I wondered if it had really been that simple for her. “How did the empathy thing happen for you?”
“As far as we know, I was born with it. I cried a lot as a baby, but not because of colic. Once my parents figured it out, my mom quit taking acting jobs so she could be home with me all the time, act as a buffer. My mom made my life bearable.” He paused, staring down at the floor. I thought I caught a glimpse of moisture on his dark lashes. “I miss her. I miss them both.”
“Kaleb, you don’t have to—”
“No, it’s fine.” He looked up at me, his eyes clear. Maybe I’d been wrong. “Anyway, as I got older, I discovered other things that helped, like how quiet it got for me, mentally, when I was underwater. That I could close out a lot if I put up enough walls.”
I felt the need to lighten the moment. “Is that why you act like such a jerk?”
Kaleb granted me a grin. “Good call.”
“I blocked a lot out, too, after the accident, even after the hospital,” I confessed. “Kept my head down. I learned things—self-defense, sarcasm—all designed to keep people out, keep them away.”
“Did it work?”
“For a while.” I smiled. “It’s getting easier to let people in. You should try it.”
“I’ll let you know how that works out,” he said, laughing. Then his face turned serious again. “No one knows this except for Michael, but my dad found a way to isolate the properties of certain drugs to help me filter the feelings, keep me from absorbing everything from everybody. He manufactured a supply for me right before he died.”
He took a flat silver coin out of his pocket and began flipping it over and under his knuckles, concentrating on the movement for a moment before fisting it in his hand. “I know what you’ve agreed to do for my dad.”
Directly meeting the blue eyes that matched those of his famous mother, I said, “For your dad. And for you and your mom. No one should have to go through the things we have. If I can change the outcome, make life better, it’s like making it right for the whole world.”
“My dad gave me this when I turned sixteen. I’d finally accepted who I was. Decided to learn how to use it instead of running from it.” Kaleb held the coin out between two fingers so I could see it. It wasn’t a coin at all, but a silver circle with a word engraved on it. I leaned closer to read it.
“Hope.”
He put the circle back in his pocket and reached out to take my hand. I gave it to him. His was strong, a little rough, and warm. I didn’t feel the electricity I felt when I touched Michael, but something else.
Comfort.
