Chapter 31
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Callie
Emmett still hasn’t responded to my question about that cryptic text he sent this morning. I’m tempted to forgo text messages altogether and just call him to find out what’s going on, but it feels like it would be a violation, of sorts. A breach of our agreement to keep our identities a secret.
Plus, I’m scared. Scared he’ll answer and not be the person I thought he was. If our little…whatever it is… is over, I want to remember it fondly. Not taint it with an uncomfortable ending.
And then, there’s Royal. Things are going really well with him. I like where we’re at, and I’m not sure how he’d feel about my texting and having an emotional connection with Emmett. Especially since I haven’t told Royal about him.
Pulling up my group chat with Raven, Joey, and Twila, I nod to myself. I haven’t told any of them about Royal and me, and it’s time to fess up. I need their advice.
Me: Hey guys, I have a confession to make.
Twila: Uh-oh. You okay? Sounds serious.
Joey: What’s going on, Sis?
Raven: Oh, shit. You fucked him, didn’t you?
I roll my eyes. Of course, Raven guesses the truth on her first try. She knows me so well, it’s a little scary sometimes.
Joey: Fucked who? What are you talking about, R?
Raven: Jesus, Jo, it’s Mr. Manning. We talked about this at brunch. How many mimosas did you have?
Twila: Callie hasn’t confirmed it yet, ladies.
Joey: Callie?
Me: Consider it confirmed.
Raven: Yassss, bitch. How was it?
Twila: OMG!!!!!!
Joey: Seriously? Tell us everything. Right. Now.
Me: Some of the other teachers invited us out for happy hour on Friday. We ended up talking the whole time, and I invited him back to my place. It was a little awkward, at first, with both of us questioning what the other really wanted, then I kissed him. And then we spent pretty much the whole weekend in my bed.
Raven: Holy shit. All weekend? What was the O count?
Joey: Raven, don’t ask her that.
Me: 8
Raven: HOLY SHIT. You little sex kitten!
Twila: Daa-yum.
Me: It was amazing, but then yesterday, things got weird.
Raven: I will murder him if he blew you off. Chop his dick into tiny little pieces.
Me: It wasn’t like that. The opposite, actually. I told him we needed to keep this thing a secret at work, and he was being a bit too flirty. Then he emailed me through our work email, and I freaked out like a paranoid maniac. He suggested we exchange phone numbers so we can text, and after I gave him my number, he got all weird and said we should DM through Cackle, instead.
Twila: That is weird.
Joey: So HE suggested you exchange numbers, then refused to give you his?
Me: Yep.
Raven: Cock fricassee.
Me: Stop it, R. No one is chopping up and frying his cock. I happen to like it. A lot. Besides, he invited me over last night for dinner, made me his dessert––if you know what I mean––and I stayed the night. It was all great.
Joey: Just ask him about it, Callie.
Twila: I agree with Joey. You’re both adults, and communication is important if this thing between you is going anywhere.
They’re right. I know they are. I just don’t know why it’s so hard.
Me: Thanks, guys. I’ll talk to him. I promise. And this leads me to my next problem.
Raven: Whose appendage do I need to mutilate now?
Joey: Jesus, Raven. What crawled up your ass and died? Or should I ask, who?
Raven: I don’t know what you mean.
Joey: Mm-hmm.
Raven: This isn’t about me. Callie, please proceed.
Me: Thank you. Well, I kind of asked that guy, Emmett, I’ve been texting with what he thought about the situation…you know, from a man’s perspective. He ghosted me yesterday, then texted something this morning that sounded like he was ending our conversations. For good. And when I asked why it sounded like goodbye, he didn’t answer.
Twila: That is strange.
Joey: Maybe he felt like it was getting a bit too personal?
Me: I thought that at first, too, but he’s told me things. Painful things way more personal than asking about a guy refusing to give me his number.
Raven: Maybe he’s jealous.
I pause and think about that for a moment. Is it possible? Could Emmett have developed feelings beyond friendship, and my talking about another man upset him? I guess it is possible. Unlikely, but possible.
Me: Okay. Thanks for working through this with me, but I need to get to work if I’m going to talk to Royal about the whole phone number thing before class starts. Love you all.
Joey: Love you, Sis.
Twila: XOXO
Raven: Let me know if you change your mind about the fricassee. I have a sharp knife and a gas stove.
Raven: Also, I love you more than my patent leather Docs.
When I get to the teacher’s lounge, my heart is trying to pound out of my chest. This thing between Royal and me is really good, and I don’t want to mess it up. But I know if we don’t clear the air about the whole phone number thing, my mind will continue to spin out over it until I drive myself insane.
Looking around, I’m surprised. Royal isn’t in here. I must’ve beat him to work, for once. That makes me smile as I walk over to the coffee maker. Grabbing my mug from the shelf, I pour myself a cup.
“Hey, Callie.”
“Oh. Hey, Marissa,” I say as the kindergarten teacher sidles up next to me with a mischievous grin.
“How are things between you and Royal?”
“What? What do you mean?” I blurt, panic overriding my common sense.
She knows.
“Oh, come on, Callie. Your war with him is legendary. But lately, it seems like you two have buried the hatchet. He’s…different.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, relaxing now that I realize she isn’t suggesting anything romantic is going on between Royal and me.
“You weren’t here before it happened,” she says slowly, “but Royal changed after the accident. He just wasn’t the same person. But lately, he seems to be finding himself again.”
“Accident?” I ask, my heartrate spiking.
Marissa flinches. “Shit. Don’t tell him I told you. Only a few of us know, and we know not to talk about it.”
“I won’t. I promise,” I say, shaking my head.
“It was a couple of years ago. His fiancée was in a car accident, and she died on the scene. He didn’t even get to say goodbye,” she says in a low, sad voice.
My eyes blink rapidly as I stare at her in silence. Fiancée? A car accident?
No. It can’t be.
Emmett had a fiancée who died in a car accident. That’s who he was texting when he…
No.
“Callie? You okay?”
I don’t answer her. I just continue to stare and blink as my mind goes through my conversations with Emmett. His deceased fiancée. His goofy jokes. The fact that he texted me all giddy about his weekend yesterday after I had an amazing weekend with Royal. His silence after I asked him about Royal and the whole phone number situation.
And when I gave Royal my number, he refused to give me his.
Because he knew .
I’m breathing hard, now. Almost hyperventilating.
“Callie?” Marissa asks, sounding worried.
But her voice is faint. My thoughts are too loud.
Royal knows I’m Elle. And he knows if he gives me his number, I’ll know he’s Emmett.
Oh, my God. Has this whole thing been a set-up? Some kind of cruel joke?
I think I’m going to throw up.
Setting my still-full coffee mug in the sink, I spin and run out of there, ignoring Marissa’s concerned questions. I don’t stop running until I reach my car. Ripping open the door, I climb in, slam it shut, and hit the locks. I take a few moments to calm myself the tiniest bit before calling my favorite substitute and asking her if she can sub for my class today.
I tell her I’m sick.
She agrees, so I call the front office to tell them she’ll be coming in for me today. I tell the receptionist I’m sick, too. She questions me like she doesn’t believe me. She saw me run out, obviously upset.
I can’t handle the questions, so I insist I’m sick and end the call.
Starting my car and backing out of the spot, I see Royal’s car pulling into the lot. My heart starts to pound as tears fill my eyes. I can’t. I just…can’t.
He hits the breaks when he sees me leaving. He waves, then lifts his palms up and shrugs his shoulders in question. I ignore him and haul ass out of there, my tires squealing against the asphalt as I whip my car onto the road.
My tears are blurring my vision, so I swipe at my eyes to clear them. I don’t want to wreck. And that thought leads me right back to Royal and his fiancée, making my eyes fill anew.
I don’t know if I’m overreacting. There’s a decent chance Royal had no idea he’s been texting with me this entire time. But even if that’s true, he figured it out yesterday after I gave him my number, and he didn’t say a word. He made up an excuse to use Cackle instead of giving me his own number.
He lied, even if it was a lie by omission.
And when I went to his house last night, he continued to lie. He lied while we ate dinner. He lied afterward, when we…
God . I need time to think. Time to figure this out.
I somehow make it home in one piece despite the tears obscuring my vision. When I park in my designated space, my phone screen lights up, catching my attention. Picking it up from where I dropped it on the passenger’s seat, I brush my tears away with my free hand to see it’s a direct message from Royal on Cackle. I tap the notification to open the message.
RoyalMan: Hey, what’s going on? Are you okay? The ladies in the front office said you claimed to be sick, but you looked upset when you left. Did something happen?
I close the app without responding. Royal will see that I read the message and ignored it, but I don’t care about hurting his feelings right now. I need time.
I need time to get my head and my heart straight before I can even think of speaking with him.
He’s just going to have to wait.