How could the man she'd been living with for the past five months, the man she'd been sharing her bed, her body with, suddenly seem like a stranger?
"I have work I need to finish, Maddie," Caleb said sharply, clearly dismissing her. He walked towards the bench to change out his tools. "I'll see you at home."
He had the last word. Maddie didn't even think that she could form a coherent sentence at this point. Before she knew it, like her body was on autopilot, she turned on her heel and walked back towards her car. She was numb the entire way home, his words replaying in her mind on an endless loop.
Once she got home, she checked in on Peter and told him she was heading to bed. And even though he looked at her oddly, he bid her goodnight and she waddled upstairs.
Maddie sat on the edge of her bed, not bothering to get undressed. She'd barely gotten any sleep the past four days, but she wasn't physically tired, just mentally exhausted.
Then she shook her head when it hit her.
No, she thought, suddenly. No. No, it's all wrong.
Caleb Montgomery was a liar.
He could tell her that he only thought they were friends with benefits until he was blue in the face, but Maddie didn't believe it. She hadn't made up anything, hadn't imagined things that weren't there just because she wanted them to be there. She didn't care what he said, but Caleb did care about her. Deeply. And she wouldn't allow herself to be fooled because then it meant she didn't have faith in her own feelings, that she didn't have faith in him.
However, she meant what she said. She refused to wait around for him to finally acknowledge his feelings. She wouldn't be pulled around on a string like a toy, waiting for Caleb to throw her a bone every now and again.
In her mind, she had no other choice. Caleb had demanded everything when he found out she was pregnant. She'd moved in with him, taking a chance on their future together, throwing all her eggs in one basket. But she absolutely refused to be here now, in the house that she'd comfortably and lovingly nestled herself in. Not when he'd flung ugly words at her in a very deliberate attempt to distance himself. How could she respect herself if she stayed?
Until Caleb figured his shit out, figured out what he wanted from her, she needed to distance herself. She would make sure that he was still involved in the pregnancy, but physically being around him, smelling him on her sheets, remembering the way he'd tenderly caressed her in their shower, or wrapped his arms around her stomach from behind in their kitchen, would be her own personal form of hell. It wasn't an option to stay at this point, not when her heart was breaking.
Even though it hurt her to do it, she rolled out her suitcase from her closet and started packing up her essentials. She left a note for Caleb on her bed when she was done and then trekked down the stairs and to the opposite side of the house to knock on Peter's door. When he opened it, he frowned.
"I … I know something's not right, Maddie," he said quietly, uncomfortably even though concern shone in his eyes. "Do … do you want to talk about it?"
She reached out to smooth back a lock of his hair, already missing him, wondering how to go about this. "Caleb and I got into a fight. And I think it's best if I go for a little while, just to give us some space."
Peter processed that information, eyebrows drawing together. "But you'll come back, right?"
She almost lost it right there, but she cleared her throat, taking a deep breath. "I-I hope so." Peter's shoulders sagged, but he nodded. "Can you help me with my suitcase?"
"Yes."
Once her car was loaded up, she hugged Peter fiercely. "I'll see you soon, okay? Call me if you need anything. And there's a fresh tub of sorbet in the freezer," she added, knowing it was Peter's favorite, trying to lighten the mood.
He managed a small smile, standing on the driveway with bare feet, hands tucked into the pockets of his flannel pajamas. "Thanks, Maddie."
Then she got into her car and drove away. And the farther away from the house she drove, the harder she cried.
FORTY-TWO
Caleb flung the tool back onto the bench harder than he'd intended, beyond frustrated, and then stalked over to the shitty sink they'd installed a couple years ago on the far side of the small garage. He splashed his face with cold water, then his neck, his arms, feeling overheated, hungry, pissed, and tired. So fucking tired.
He dried his face with his shirt, but he didn't feel any cleaner. Caleb knew that not even the hottest of showers could clean off the taint that was clinging to his very bones. He felt like he was drowning in it.