Suicide Notes

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

Anna-

Scents from the large bouquet of tulips in my arms kept catching on the small breeze and wafting around us. Caleb had insisted on buying me a bunch when he saw me admiring the wild splashes of color as we strolled, hand and hand, through Pike's Place Market. I wasn't about to refuse him. They were beautiful. I only wished they could live forever as a tribute to the time we'd spent together.

After the Ferris Wheel, he'd taken me to see a romantic comedy at one of the nearby theaters, where we'd shared a small bag of popcorn. It was hard for me to pay attention to the screen, however, since Caleb insisted on constantly nibbling at my neck and ear—not that I was complaining.

Casting a golden hue over the water, the sun was beginning to take its dip over the horizon as we walked back to the loft. It wouldn't be long before we would need to start getting ready for tonight. My stomach suddenly growled, reminding me that popcorn and cotton candy wasn't going to sustain me for the rest of the evening.

"Do you wanna stop at that little sub place by the ferry and get some dinner?" I asked. "My treat."

Caleb shrugged noncommittally. "I dunno. I'm pretty sure we have something we can eat at the house."

"Really?" I teased. "You boys have been buying something besides alcohol to go in your fridge?" Even though I was joking, I was partially serious too. Because of the time I'd spent at the loft, it seemed the refrigerator was better named the beer cooler than a food holder. These guys spent ninety-nine percent of the time surviving on take out and alcohol, according to their trashcan.

"We're full of surprises like that," Caleb replied with a laugh, appearing unoffended by my ribbing. "Besides, what kind of boyfriend would I be if I let my girl starve?"

I laughed. "I'm capable of cooking a meal myself, you know."

"I do know that. I love it when you cook for me. Some of your mom's skill has rubbed off on you, I think." He squeezed my shoulders gently. "Your mom is pretty awesome. Your dad too, for that matter."

Smiling, I nodded. "I have to agree. I couldn't have been born into a better family."

We walked in silence for a few moments before he spoke again. "Your parents are some of the few, rare examples that really make me believe in marriage."

His comment caught me by surprise. "Seriously?" I'd never heard him talk like this.

"Well, my parents certainly haven't been the poster children for it," he said wryly. "My real mom ran off with another guy—not that I blame her, entirely, for that. My dad is a piece of work. And he and Danica . . ." He let the sentence trail off, not needing to explain any further.

"So, you're not a big fan of marriage I take it?" For some reason, my heart fell slightly at his words. Despite how loving he was to me, he seemed very jaded when it came to the big picture.

"Oh, I'm sure I could be a fan, if it was with the right person. But, I think the next logical step for me would be to ask someone to move in with me first, just to see how things work out. I'd want them to have a chance to try me out and make sure I'm what they really wanted."

"Makes sense," I replied, feeling downcast and a bit jealous at the way he described this mystery someone. I wasn't even going to lie to myself. I wanted it to be me. Maybe this was more of a fling for him, but I really couldn't imagine him leading me on that way. Maybe he didn't want to take a chance on ruining our lifetime of friendship.