Caleb's Choice

Caleb

“So, do you want to come home with me?”

The blonde—whose name I can’t even remember—Toni, Tiffany? No, Tracey. That’s it. I’m not usually bad with names, but I’m really not into this.

I haven’t been for a while.

My buddy Sean and I used to go out most weekends and pick up women. But my heart’s not in it anymore.

Not since I saw my sister fall in love and get married.

It’s a little weird that’s had such an impact on me, but Chloe had the love of her life. From the age of 13 she was joined at the hip with Scott, falling pregnant at 18 and then having years with him before he passed away in a car accident at 31.

She came back home with her sons four years afterward and fell head over heels for an old friend.

Why can’t I have that?

“Caleb.” She practically purrs, pawing at my bicep.

“Hey, I don’t think so. I’m just going to go home.”

“Really?” She pouts.

“Yeah. Nice to meet you, though.”

Her eyebrows rise. I get the impression she doesn’t get told no often.

“Sean. I’m heading out. Talk to you later?”

Sean gives me the side-eye before smiling at the woman on his lap.

I’m too old for this shit.

I barely drink anymore—when the hangover took all weekend to get over, the drinking eased off.

Is it sad that I’d rather be at home in bed watching a movie alone?

It’s a quiet drive home, but not lonely. I’ve come to enjoy my own company lately, which makes a nice change.

I’m not sure, but I think it has something to do with my sister.

Three years ago, Chloe returned to town, widowed and with my teenage nephews in tow. She soon fell in love with Hunter, an
old friend she hadn’t seen in years.

But that wasn’t where her story ended.
She not only remarried, but she had two more children. And those little girls make up for the years I never had with my nephews.

Hannah and Eve.

Chloe and Scott were in Auckland and then moved overseas, so I didn’t get to spend time with Xander and Braden when they were babies. But my nieces are amazing.

It’s enough to make me regret what I’ve done with my life.

I’ve had relationships, but nothing that got close to serious enough to live together or get married.

And I’ve been in love the sum total of once in my life.

I was like Chloe—I fell in love as a teenager.

And I was besotted.

Emma was my first everything. First love, first kiss—we lost our virginity together. Our only real fight was when she told me she was leaving town.

Her parents made the choice, and we were too young to really fight it.

Idug my heels in and blamed her, which I realised later was horribly unfair. But by the time reality sank in, she was gone.

It’s not her fault I never settled down. And I didn’t do it solely because of her.

Life was just easier without the commitment.

I’m still not even sure that’s what I want now. But I do know I don’t want a life of meaningless sex—that holds no interest anymore.

Maybe it’s time to work out what I want.

That’s well overdue at the grand old age of 43.

​I need to sort my shit out.