Page 73 of The Way Home

“Thenwhy?Are you not attracted to me anymore?” His forehead pinched with distress, and Caleb’s heart broke. How could Jamie possibly think that Caleb didn’twanthim?

Jamie’s voice cracked. “I’ve tried everything, Caleb. Short of writingI want youon my forehead, I’ve tried to show you how much I want you. That I want to be here with you. I’m so embarrassed, I even—” His cheeks flushed as he dropped his head in his hands again. “I was going to take you out and try to…seduceyou tonight. All this time, I thought you didn’t want me. But really, you’re just waiting for some version of me that’s… that’s gone.”

Caleb pushed through the lump in his throat. “Jamie, baby,please.”He gently moved Jamie’s hands away, tilting his chin up until watery green eyes met his. “If you think I don’t want to sleep with you, you’re insane. Your body…” Caleb’s voice dropped, gaze lingering on the hollow of his throat. “You are fuckingperfect.”

Jamie swallowed. “Then why haven’t you even kissed me yet?”

Caleb’s heart sank lower. He was such a dick. “You’re not just some man I want to hook up with, Jamie. I asked you tomarryme, for fuck’s sake, and I’m just trying to be patient. To wait—”

“Until I go back to being the man you proposed to.” A tear slid from Jamie’s eyes, down his cheek. “So you’ve put up this wall until I remember again. Is that it?”

“No, just until…”Caleb sighed. “If I fuck you and then you decide youdon’twant to marry me… it would break me.” A stream of tears fell from Jamie’s eyes. “I’m sorry, J, but it’s the truth. And I know that’s so much pressure. But I’m just not strong enough to pretend like I don’t fucking love you.”

Jamie wiped his eyes with his hands and stood. Caleb sat backon his heels, suddenly very tired. The room fell silent as Jamie pulled a bag from the closet.

“What are you doing?” Caleb asked.

“I’m going to stay with Ellie for a bit.”

“What?” Caleb flew to his feet, heart pounding. “What are you talking about?”

Jamie didn’t even turn. His shoulders slumped as he tossed random things into the bag. He looked utterly defeated.

“You don’t love me, Caleb. You love some other version of me that’s gone now.”

Caleb’s heart threatened to pound out of his chest at the words. His brain was going a mile a minute, trying to make sense of what he was seeing in front of him. This couldn’t be happening. He loved Jamie more than anything. Anything. This wasn’t happening, Jamie wasn’tleaving…

“And that version of me isn’t coming back. Doctor Wilson told me today.”

No. That wasn’t possible. They could come back—theywouldcome back. Their love couldn’t just be erased like that.

Jamie hiccuped. “My memories are gone, Caleb. So you might as well find someone else because the man you loved is dead. He died in a bike accident.”

Caleb stood frozen to the spot, heart cracking into pieces, as Jamie slipped from the room and left.

If there iseven one thing I can do to help you get back to who you were, I’ll do it.

The words were on a constant loop in Jamie’s head, making the horrible knot of pain in his chest expand.

Staying at Ellie’s the last few nights hadn’t brought the comfort he’d hoped it would. Ellie was sweet, obviously, but she couldn’t magically take away the pain in his heart over Caleb. The only thing that would help was a long bike ride—fresh air in his lungs, pedaling so hard his legs burned. It was the only way toclear his head.

But, of course, biking wasn’t an option.

So for two nights in a row, he’d let Ellie make him tea while he crashed on the couch, staring at the ceiling, agonizing over their conversation. He wasn’t even angry that Caleb lied. Just…sad.

I miss you, J. I miss us.

How could he blame Caleb? He was grieving his partner. His fiancé. TheoldJamie.

Maybe Jamie was grieving, too. The sharp pain in his heart worsened as he thought back to the photograph hanging in the living room. Him and Caleb at that wedding. Jamie was so confident in that photo. He looked so…differentthan how he felt right now.

“Oh, love.” JB’s soft voice drifted into their office, startling him. He didn’t realize tears were streaming down his face until one splashed onto the report on his desk, smudging the ink.

“Fuck,” he muttered, dabbing at the paper. He’d arrived at work an hour early because he couldn’t sleep.

“Forget that report,” JB said, rushing over to the desk and snatching it up. “You have been depressed now for three days. I will finish this report for you. Gohome.”

I don’t have a home.