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I took a deep breath and pushed the door open.
There, in the middle of the marble floor, stood a piano.
I dropped my bag and walked over to it, running a finger along the glossy edge. It looked worn, and well played—probably from the 1960s—and resting on the music stand was a note in Caleb’s blocky handwriting.
I know you’ll continue to make amazing music. Maybe this will help. For what it’s worth, I can’t wait to hear every song. If you’ll let me. I’m sorry I got scared—it’s been happening a lot in the last year or so. But I think it’s good because being scared means I know I’ve got something to lose. I hope I haven’t lost you, Theo. I’m in the guest room if you want to talk, but if you don’t, just go into your room and shut the door, and I’ll leave. I love you.
I practically ran to the guest room. The door was open, and Caleb was pacing, chewing on his thumbnail.
When I opened my mouth, nothing came out, so I just held up the note, vaguely aware that the relief that had swept through me was actually making me light-headed. Caleb closed the distance between us in three steps, pulling me against his chest and hugging me tight. The note crumpled between us.
“I love you,” he breathed into my hair. “I love you, Theo, and I’m so fucking sorry I didn’t tell you before.”
I tried to answer but his arms were too tight around me, so I just tucked my head into his shoulder and held on. Finally, Caleb’s hold eased a little and we sat down on the edge of the bed.
“?’M so sorry,” he kept muttering.
“I love you,” I whispered, and kissed him.
The heat between us flared in seconds, and we ripped at each other’s clothes, dropping tatters of apologies and declarations of love like kisses on each other’s skin.
Then Caleb was inside me, just spit and want between us, and I grabbed at him, desperate to feel every inch. His deep, powerful strokes lit a fire in my belly and I just held on, hands on his ass, as we threw ourselves against each other. It was fast and dirty and bruising and exactly what I needed.
Caleb railed me, panting out words of love, and I kissed him as I bit bruises on his shoulders, and when I came, my orgasm burned through me like wildfire, exploding between us as I screamed into Caleb’s neck. I dropped my head to the bed when blackness edged my vision, and closed my eyes. Caleb thrust hard, and froze, moaning his pleasure against my skin. He gathered me up and thrust again and again until he was just a shivering mess above me, then collapsed on me.
We woke hours later, sore and stuck together, and after a much-needed shower, I pulled Caleb into the kitchen, even though it was the middle of the night. I was so hungry I was light-headed, and scoured the kitchen looking for something edible. Unsurprisingly, since I hadn’t gone to the store or ordered groceries, there wasn’t much. I found some crackers, a jar of peanut butter and one of jam, called it PB&J sandwiches, and promised myself I’d get some food tomorrow.
I brought the food to the table and tried to make little sandwiches, but the crackers kept breaking. Finally, Caleb grabbed a plate, took the knife away from me, and plopped a mound of peanut butter and a mound of jelly on the plate, and told me to dip.
“So…you really did it,” he said. And I braced for a moment, but his voice was low, impressed. “I, um, I’m proud of you. I was an ass about it before. I panicked. I guess that won’t shock you by now. But I didn’t mean what I said, about you regretting it. Of course you should do the thing that makes you happy, and fuck the rest.”
I slid my hand into his and squeezed. He snagged a cracker and scooped up some peanut butter.
After I’d left Caleb’s house the day I got back from tour, I’d driven around for hours before coming back into the city, so tired it was a miracle I didn’t crash the car. I was furious, and hurt, and so confused. And I cursed Caleb over and over for taking what should’ve been one of the best moments of my life and turning it inside out.
A few days later, though, when the hurt and anger had dimmed a little, the thought that settled in was What about the band? I had realized what was right for me, but it had taken it sinking in for me to realize that I wouldn’t just be leaving for me, I’d be leaving them in the lurch. Without their singer and songwriter. Could a band even come back from that?
