Cayla: Knitting is not for the faint of heart. My fingers hurt for days. I will not be returning to the knitting circle no matter how good the senior home gossip is on Thursdays.
Dex laughed at the thought of Cayla doing a terrible job while being fully engrossed in pudding theft scandals. Dex found himself automatically looking at his phone on the hour.
Cayla: Spin class is not for me. My ass hurt so bad I left 20 minutes into the class. I was able to catch the yoga class, and I do like that. CrossFit can suck it. Water aerobics was my way of getting back into the Senior Citizen gossip circle. I will definitely do that again. Tomorrow, I get to find out how Charles and Stella’s date went. Hot details to follow, I’m sure.
Dex smiled through the next hour despite his failure to respond. Because they were getting somewhere. The next text was not as cute or light-hearted as the others, but it was still illuminating.
Cayla: This is the last text for today. With TODAY being the operative word. I think compassion is a wonderful trait. In my opinion, it says a lot about a person’s heart. There are few people willing to put aside their own stuff to help another person in need no matter how shitty they have been to them. You showed me compassion more times than I can count, but the two instances that stand out the most were when you saved me from that hell hole and helped me when I was on the verge of fucking up Kalilah’s baby shower desserts.
The phone fell when Dex’s hand shook from the sudden surge of emotion. He shook it off; she’d told him the sweetest thing in Austin, only to break his heart almost two weeks later. It’s still not enough, but it was one hell of a start.
Chapter 37
Cayla followed the same routine for the next few days. He wasn’t responding, but he’d seen them, and he hadn’t blocked her again either. She only hoped she was wearing him down. So far, she’d given him compassion, honesty, and chivalry
as the things she loved about him. She hadn’t used the word love, but she was working up to it. She was using patience. Realistically, she couldn’t undo the damage she’d done with a few texts, but she hoped he would be willing to talk to her soon. She was on her way to get some baby love from her perfect little nephew. After donning her raincoat and running to the car, she typed out her last text for the day and sent it.
Cayla: Forgiveness is a gracious quality you have bestowed upon me more times than I’ve deserved. And, while I understand you are well within your rights to never speak to me again, I’m still begging you for mercy.
Cayla navigated her way to the Sinclair home, but her mind was on Dex. She’d confessed to him that she’d realized that she didn’t like her car. There wasn’t anything wrong with her Audi, it just wasn’t her dream car. Cayla had gotten it because she thought it was what she was supposed to do since she had a well-paying job. She’d test driven a few vehicles before realizing she’d prefer a SUV and it didn’t need to be a luxury brand. The trade-in value of her quickly paid-off Audi was almost enough for her to get her Toyota Highlander damn near free. She loved being higher up, and it made her feel more secure.
Cayla pulled into the driveway and jumped out. The rain pelted her. The sideways downpour made an umbrella useless; she was getting wet regardless. Luckily, she was a raincoat and boots kind of girl – another thing she’d figured out lately. She was mentally adding it to her list of things to tell Dex as she entered and started shedding her rain gear.
“Kalilah?” she called.
“In the living room,” Kalilah answered.
“That rain is crazy as hell. I had to leap over a giant puddle and …”
The rest of the words died on her lips when she locked eyes with Dex’s indifferent ones. He reverted his gaze to the baby sleeping in his arms. His demeanor softened, and he smiled sweetly at his nephew and placed a kiss on his head. He looked so good with a baby, her ovaries ached. Cayla was stuck. She wanted to rush to him and tell him everything on her mind. She also wanted to give him his space and not upset him while he held her nephew.
“Kalilah, I told you to stop underestimating my power of persuasion,” he continued like she didn’t just enter the room.
“Oh, get off the gas. His name is Graham. Nick wanted a junior – but not really – which is why we used Nick’s middle name.”
Dex shook his head at Kalilah like she was delusional. “His name is Graham Benjamin Sinclair. I won. My Bananas Foster gets them every time,” he said with a smile only for Kalilah and the baby.
“Did you stick the landing?” Nick asked Cayla.
“Huh?” Cayla’s head was spinning. She’d imagined that she’d somehow softened Dex with all her confessions, but he still was not willing to tell her hello.
“You jumped over a huge puddle…” he prompted with his hands.
“No. I almost broke my ass.” She smiled at Nick. “Those two days of ballet I took when I was five failed me miserably.”
Nick laughed at the unexpected joke. “Because after your two classes twenty-one years ago, you were sooooo ready to star in the nutcracker.”
“Exactly!” Cayla joked. “I can practically move to New York to be a principal dancer.”
They laughed again. Dex kissed Graham and deposited him in Kalilah’s arms. He kissed Kalilah on the forehead and walked around and patted Nick on the shoulder on his way to the door. Dex’s rejection hurt every cell in her body. He’d rather leave than tell her…anything. The sound of the front door opening and closing served up her rejection in a to-go box, allowing her to enjoy it anywhere. Nick and Kalilah faded behind the cloud of tears in her eyes. Fuck it. She went for broke. She ran after him – shoes be damned.
He was on the porch looking out at the rain, but her appearance had him walking toward the downpour. It was the closest she’d been to him since their fight, and she wanted more. She needed to be near him as much as she needed her heartbeat. He stepped in the rain, and she followed.
“Dex,” she called inches away from him. “Dex!” she cried again, her tears falling in cadence with the rain. “Please! I know you can hear me.”
Dex turned abruptly while pushing away hair the rain was plastering to his face. “What is it, Cayla?”
The pain she’d seen in California burned in his eyes, and she felt the full brunt of it. The pain radiating off him was put there by her, because of her. She would go back and erase it all if she could.