Page 69 of Ripple Effect

“The woman from last night dazzled me.” I feel the warm blush of that compliment for the duration of time it takes Cal to open his mouth, leading us into dangerous territory. “She sure as hell isn’t the same woman I’m sitting on the edge of the grass skipping rocks into the water with.”

“How would you know? You’re never home” is snapped before I can stop myself.

“Whoa. Libby, honey. That’s not what I meant.” Cal holds up his hands.

“Then what did you mean, Cal?” I demand.

“Just…I don’t know. I guess we would be considering other things.”

It comes to me then he knows about Iris and Sam’s news. “I guess when you work with your spouse, there’s better odds for the kind of miracle Iris and Sam are expecting. Then again, it’d be nice to not only have my husband around to make our child but to help raise him or her.” Pushing to my feet, I start to move away.

Cal grabs my hand before I can shift more than a foot. “Libby, I didn’t come here to fight.” His voice sounds so tired. For a moment, I waver, realizing if he flew in yesterday, he likely is exhausted. But then I remember the nights I spend with half of my bed, my life, my heart aching, and I turn my head aside.

“I work so I don’t feel the loss of my dreams anymore, Cal. If I’ve changed, it’s because I understand that now.” Removing my hand from his, I ignore his pleas to stop as I make my way down the grassy knoll back to the house.

Because I can’t let him see me cry. I do too much of that while he’s away and I’m alone.

* * *

Hourslater when I get back to our home, I drag my weekender and dress bag into the house. The smell of food cooking surprises me. After our fight, I was certain Cal would have headed into the office. “Hello?” I call out as I drop my bags at the base of the stairs.

And then the lights dim. The candles I didn’t notice before sitting at the base of each sunflower that is in its own individual vase pop out throughout the room.

“Oh, Cal,” I whisper. My heart melts and aches because the sweetness behind the gesture means everything to my heart and nothing to our lives.

Footsteps behind me precede arms wrapping around my waist. His voice is warm next to my ear. “You were right; I have no idea what it’s like for you. But I want you to know that if your dreams have changed, hon—” Cal gently turns me in his arms. “—then all that matters is I’m a part of them.”

My head collides with his chest as I wrap my arms around him. Maybe I can’t change our marriage, but maybe we can.

It certainly appears as if Cal wants to try.

Lifting my head up, I slide my arms around him and hug him tightly. “I love you.”

“I love you, Libby. Always.”

I don’t know how long I stand there holding on to him. All I know is that once again we’re suffering because of another consequence of a job I only understand on the surface.

Even as Cal lowers his lips to take mine in a kiss rife with apology and filled with love, I just know I can’t go on living the way I have been.

I have to be the woman I’ve always meant to be. I just thought I’d have a husband by my side to do it.

45

Calhoun

Year Three - Eight Years Ago from Present Day

“What do you think?” A few weeks after the Akin ball, Libby and I are home. Yarborough and I finally got the results of the three independent reports and have come to an agreement. It will drain all but one of my offshore accounts to do it, but I want to take the gamble. I want the roots to here, to Charleston, to Libby.

There’s a fire roaring while we talk about the deal Yarborough agreed to last week where he retains 50 percent of Allied and allows me to buy 25, Karl the other quarter with a first option for Karl, Sam—once he gets the capital—or me to buy in more at a later date or in the event of the Admiral’s demise. Of course, that’s not what I tell my wife. Still, even though they’re a fraction of the actual purchase price, the numbers I gave to Libby to buy into Alliance had her face paling.

“I know we can afford that, but…”

“But what?” I pressure her.

She shakes her head, stubbornly not saying anything. But I want her words. I want to know what she’s thinking.

“I…I don’t know what to say.” Libby shifts under the throw to get more comfortable.