Love's Arithmetic

XX: Anon

Three Months Later....


Caer was learning how to cook. It was what she filled her days with now. Her family had hovered so much after she had unexpectedly arrived home one day after being secreted away by a man they all thought she had never seen. All the questions, the worries, and the terror in their faces when she explained to them that she had either been blindfolded or their faces had been covered. Every one of them had thought she was traumatized by the experience and had sent her to counseling.


Her psychologist, Dr. Timothy Blake, whom she liked to refer to as 'The Walrus' for his large physique and his fondness for wearing pants several sizes too small, which caused his stomach to protrude disgustingly over them. His jowls were indistinguishable from his chin, his eyes were sunken into his face, lost within the rolls above his eyes. His fingers were like large sausages the knuckles sporting dimples. Her first thought when she saw the man was, How does he get around with so much bulk? He seemed extremely burdened by his weight, and she considered giving him the number for a personal trainer at the gym she frequented.


He was supposed to be the best trauma psychologists in New York, specializing in kidnap and hostage victims. After one meeting with Caer, she was certain he was exasperated. He kept asking her stupid questions, wondering if anyone had sexually abused her, if she had been mistreated, what her living conditions had been like, et cetera. When she had explained to the man that she had been well taken care of, he told her in a calm voice, "This is a safe zone, no one can hurt you here. You can tell me what happened."


She had rolled her eyes and refused to go after three more sessions. She really wasn't suffering from any ill effects of the ordeal. The only thing wrong with her was loneliness. And possibly Fury. Caer had taken it upon herself to loath Garrett with a deep burning passion. She vowed that when she saw him again she would hurt him, but first, she would show him how she didn't need him. She had after all, survived twenty-five years without him and she had now lasted another 3 months. She was practically bionic.


Her cooking took her mind off him. She had to put all of her energy and concentration into it so that she wouldn't ruin what she was creating. In all truth Caer believed that she was getting rather adept at performing in the kitchen. She could make a variety of dishes now and they were all good. She tasted each one herself and rated them. When one tasted horrible or seemed off, she prepared it again, and again, and again, until it was perfect. When she was satisfied, she would make it for her family.  They had come to love her new hobby, but were all worried about her still.


Urma would look at her niece and think, She's hurting inside. Something happened there that went wrong. Something bad happened and there's nothing I can do! Caer knew it was hard on her family, but there was no way she could explain what had happened during those days. She couldn't explain that first night during the thunder storm the fear she felt, the fear that had been banished when Garrett had held her. She couldn't explain the fear she had felt when she was tied up on the bed, her clothes cut off her body, beaten, gagged, blindfolded, and half naked. She couldn't explain the embarrassment she had felt when she had asked Garrett to kiss her, the fear again as she escaped. The cold, the overwhelming cold as she had been suffocated in the wilderness, and then the relief when she woke up to find him there, having waited for her, taken care of her, fed her while she was unconscious. There were no words to describe how she had felt during that time. It would take a book to explain it all.


I'm over him. She said firmly as she chopped a cucumber imagining that it was a certain tender part of Garrett's anatomy. He's gone from my life, my mind, and my heart. She knew she was lying to herself as she minced the vegetable with the oversized knife. One of her favorite parts of cooking was that she got to cut things up. Often times she fantasized that she had killed Garrett and was making him pay for everything that he did. Before she had been kidnapped she had never entertained homicidal thoughts, now, as long as they were associated with him, they were quite easily accepted. 


"Hello Duchess." A voice from behind her called. She froze, recognizing that voice, recognizing the nickname, and hating the person it all came from.


Caer whirled around, brandishing the knife as she did so. "You! What are you doing here?" She yelled, waving the knife for emphasis. It was a good thing he was on the other side of the island or she would have tried to cut him. However now, she was rational enough to realize that she needed a weapon. She had no idea of his intentions and wasn't about to let her guard down for him. She did that once and look where it had gotten her.


"Me." Garrett said calmly, as though hysterical women with homicidal tendencies and large knives yelled at him frequently. "I came to talk to you. It's important."


"Talk? You want to talk?" Caer cried, waving the knife around dangerously, almost knocking down some spices. "I'll tell you what we're going to talk about. We're going to talk about that night. That night we had dinner on the porch. You were so sweet and kind and now I know why! You drugged me! And then you dropped me off at my apartment like I was some errant child! So you want to talk about important things? What is so incredibly important that you would come all this way for? Huh?" She couldn't stop the words from flying out of her mouth. There was just so much that had happened during the short period of time that they had been together that she wanted to yell at him about. This was her chance, her chance to make him pay.


She walked closer to Garrett as she talked. Shaking the knife in front of her now, trying to intimidate him. She wanted him to feel afraid, be afraid that she could hurt him. When in all reality, he could hurt her with little effort, even with the knife. "You want to talk about important? You didn't even say good-bye!"


"Caer." Garrett grabbed her wrist gently, pulling the knife from her grasp and laying it on the counter as he pulled her toward him. "I didn't say good-bye because I thought it would be easier. I can see that I was wrong," He glanced at the knife warily, "However, at the time it seemed like a good idea. I made a lot of mistakes where you were concerned, and that bothers me. One of those mistakes is why I'm here now."


He pulled her over to her tasteful maroon couch that she loved so much. She had found it at a consignment shop and had fallen in love with it. "This news is going to sting a little bit, but it's really necessary that you know. It's also necessary that you understand that this is going to change a few things in your life. However, I want you to keep going on as you were, but I'm going to be here more often."


Caer nodded, not really sure what to make of it. On one hand, she really wanted him to stay and to be around, it would give her an opportunity to get to know him better, on a different level, a more equal playing field. She wouldn't be the kidnapped and he the kidnapper. Instead they would be two friends, trying to figure out their complicated relationship out. On the other hand, she didn't want him around at all. He had ruined her trust in him and she didn't want him around any more. She wasn't sure witch one would win out.


The latter argument died a cruel and painful death when she heard his news. The news that made her blood chill, her spine tingle with paranoia, and her heart stop with fear.