Chapter 33
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Callie
“Happy Friday, everyone,” Naomi says to start off our staff meeting, but I keep my head bowed, my eyes on the floor.
It’s been a long week. Royal hasn’t tried to talk to me since Tuesday, but I’ve seen the desperation in his gaze every time our eyes met. He wants to talk to me, to hash this out, but I haven’t felt ready. I don’t know when I will.
And the worst part? The worst part is that despite my hurt, anger, and humiliation, I miss him. I miss both of them––Royal and Emmett. Even though, logically, I know they are one and the same, it’s hard to reconcile that fact when they each meant something different to me. Emmett, despite our anonymous online relationship, was a good friend. Someone who brightened my day without really trying.
And Royal…he was everything. A friend, a lover, a companion, a teammate. Everything.
I haven’t told anyone about his deception. I know I should probably talk to Joey and the girls about it. They know something is up with me, but I’ve refused to give them any details. They’ve guessed that there’s trouble between Royal and me, but they don’t know what that “trouble” entails.
I’ve just felt the need to figure this out on my own, without my judgement being clouded by other people’s opinions. And now, I’m wondering if that was the wrong way to go about it. I keep vacillating between the hurt Royal caused me and the guilt I feel for not giving him a chance to explain himself.
I’m almost certain he had no idea I was “Elle” until Monday when I gave him my phone number. I’ve played that scene over and over in my head, little details coming back to me each time. The way he went completely still after I spoke the last two numbers. The flare of his eyes and nostrils. A small, barely audible intake of breath. The shake in his voice when he suggested we communicate through Cackle, instead.
And the biggest clue of all–– he’s the one who suggested we text instead of email in the first place. He never would’ve done that if he knew before that moment that we’d been texting each other all along.
It’s possible he just panicked. That he assumed I’d be angry or embarrassed if he called me out as “Elle.” But if that is the case, why didn’t he tell me that night, when I came over for dinner? He acted like nothing was wrong. We ate. We flirted. We had sex. We slept together in the same bed.
And the whole time, I had no clue he was hiding something. That scares me.
That fear that he could lie so easily keeps me from caving. From talking to him and giving him a chance to explain himself. I’m afraid I’ll forgive him verbally, but secretly hold onto this fear that he could be lying about everything. The trust is gone, and I’m not sure if we could ever get it back.
And that thought leads me to wonder if I’m overreacting again. God, I’m so confused.
The staff meeting ends, and I slip out of the room before anyone can speak to me. I didn’t hear a word of it after Naomi’s greeting, so I hope I didn’t miss anything important. I’m such a mess. I can’t put it off any longer. I need my girls.
As I walk into my classroom, I pull up our text thread to send out an S.O.S.
Me: Drinks at my house tonight? I’m ready to talk.
Raven: Finally. I can be there at 5. I’ll bring the tequila and some margarita mix.
Joey: I can be there at 5, too. I’ll bring some chips, queso, and guac to go with the margaritas.
Twila: I’m in. Jo, can you pick me up on your way?
Joey: Of course.
Twila: Thanks, Bestie. I’ll bring something sweet.
Me: Thanks, guys. I love you all.
I get a bevy of heart emojis back from them, and I’m smiling as I tuck my phone away. I think it’s the first time I haven’t had to force it since Tuesday morning. The girls will help me figure out what I should do. And I’ll take whatever advice they can give me, especially since I’ve been so unsuccessful at figuring this out on my own. And honestly, that’s what friends are for, right?
I manage to make it through the day without seeing Royal, which is a relief. Avoiding him the last couple of days has been an exhausting endeavor. But it seems like he finally got the message and started avoiding me, as well. Giving me the time I need.
When I get home, I hop in the shower and wash my hair. Afterward, I dress in yoga pants and a cropped hoodie before tying my damp hair up into a bun on top of my head. Out in the kitchen, I get my blender out so Raven can make the margaritas when she gets here. After grabbing four glasses and the margarita salt from the pantry, I set them beside the blender before heading into the living room to clear off the coffee table. Pulling it away from the rest of the furniture, I grab the pillows from the couch and drop them around the table so we can sit, eat, and drink on the floor.
There’s a knock on the door just before it swings open, and Raven strides in, followed by Joey and Twila. They must’ve gotten here just as Raven was leaving her apartment two doors down.
“What did I tell you about serial killers and unlocked doors, Calliope Barnes?” Raven demands as she heads straight for the kitchen.
“I know. I know. Sorry,” I call back as Joey sets her bag of snacks on the coffee table and comes in for a hug.
“How are you doing?” she murmurs as we embrace.
“I’ll be okay,” I say, pulling back to meet her eyes. “Sorry I’ve been pushing you away all week.”
She waves off my apology and speaks louder so I can hear her over the roar of the blender now that Raven’s started mixing the drinks. “You needed time to process whatever happened before sharing it with us. We get it. I’m just glad you finally decided to let us in. We want to help.”
“I know,” I say, my eyes stinging with emotion. “And I love you all.”
“We love you, too,” Twila says, nudging Joey aside with her hip so she can give me a hug.
Joey and Twila set out the chips, dips, and chocolate chip cookies while I head into the kitchen to help Raven carry the margaritas out. Before I can pick up two glasses, Raven pulls me into a long hug. I hug her back with all my might.
“I’ve missed you,” she whispers in my ear, and I nod.
She doesn’t mean she’s missed me in the traditional sense. We haven’t been separated, geographically. And while we’ve texted and talked this week, I haven’t really said anything. I’ve been a ghost––present, but not really here .
We release each other, and she smiles as she takes a sip of her frozen drink. We carry all four glasses into the living room where Joey and Twila are already seated around the coffee table, dipping tortilla chips into cheese sauce and guacamole. Once Raven and I sit, and we all have our drinks, the three of them turn expectant gazes my way.
This is my show, after all. My circus. My monkeys.
“So,” I say after I take a deep breath, “Turns out, that guy I’ve been texting, Emmett, isn’t actually a stranger. Emmett is Royal. Royal is Emmett.”
They stare at me in stunned silence for several long beats before pandemonium explodes, all three of them barking questions at once. I hold up a palm as I take a sip of my drink. Their questions cut off, and I can’t help but smile. I’ve needed this. I’ve needed them. I don’t know why I ever thought I should figure this out on my own.
“Wait,” Raven says before I can speak again. “Is that why Royal refused to give you his number?”
“I’m assuming so,” I say with a nod. “I haven’t actually talked to him since I found out.”
“He didn’t tell you, himself?” Joey asks.
“No, he didn’t,” I say, sadness creeping into the words.
“Okay, start from the beginning,” Twila says. “We need the full picture before we make a snap judgement.”
“Okay. The beginning,” I say slowly, arranging my thoughts. “Do you remember the first couple of texts I showed you from Emmett?”
“Yeah,” Joey says. “They sounded like he was texting someone he lost.”
I nod. “He was. He told me he lost his fiancée in a fatal car accident two years ago, and that my number was hers.”
“Oh, God,” Joey breathes with sad eyes.
“Yeah,” I whisper, then clear my throat.
“How did you find out?” Twila asks.
“Tuesday morning, after I texted you guys about Royal and Emmett, I went to work, fully intending to talk to Royal about the whole phone number thing. But I beat him there, for once, and while I was getting some coffee in the lounge, another teacher came up to me. She said something about the war between Royal and me being over, how obvious it was, and how Royal has been acting like himself again in a way he hasn’t since the accident.”
“The accident?” Joey asks.
“I asked her the same thing, and she told me she wasn’t supposed to talk about it since only a few people at work know, but Royal lost his fiancée in a car accident a couple of years ago.”
“Oh, shit,” Raven murmurs.
“Right,” I say, nodding. “I put two and two together, obviously. I don’t think Royal knew he was texting me the whole time, but the second I gave him my number, he realized it was me. But instead of telling me the truth, he convinced me to chat on Cackle instead and stopped texting me as ‘Emmett’ after that goodbye text.”
Twila’s eyes widen. “And after you texted him about Royal not giving you his number.”
“Don’t remind me,” I groan. “That’s so embarrassing.”
“What an asshole,” Raven grits out. “How hard is it to tell someone the truth?”
“He panicked in the moment,” I say, then silently reprimand myself for defending him. “What kills me, though, is that I went to his house for dinner that night and ended up staying over. He had ample time to tell me the truth, and he didn’t. Was he ever going to tell me?”
Joey and Twila are silent, and I look over to see them both wearing thoughtful expressions. When Joey meets my gaze, I cock my head.
“What are you thinking?”
“You said you haven’t talked to Royal since then?” she asks.
“No,” I say with a shake of my head.
“So you haven’t given him a chance to explain himself,” she says, and it feels like an accusation.
“He lied to me, Jo,” I say defensively. “A lie of omission is still a lie.”
“That’s true, but can any of us say we’ve never lied in the name of self-preservation?”
“What do you mean?” I ask, confused.
“For such a smart woman, you’re pretty stupid sometimes,” she mutters.
“Hey!” I shout, and she huffs out a breath.
“Sorry. Sorry. But he obviously likes you, Callie. A lot. That teacher said he’s been more like his old self since you stopped being his enemy, right? He’s found something with you, something he hasn’t felt since his fiancée died.”
Twila nods in agreement. “Yeah, it kind of makes sense that he’d panic at the thought of telling you the truth if it meant he might lose what he’s found. That it would be hard for him to find the right words that would guarantee you wouldn’t flip out and leave him, or something.”
I look at Raven for backup, and she slumps. “Shit, Cal, they’re making a lot of sense.”
I shake my head, still skeptical. “We spent three days together before he found out. There’s no way his feelings are so deep and serious that he’d panic at the thought of losing me.”
“Aren’t yours?” Joey asks.
“What?”
She gives me a sad smile. “Aren’t your feelings that deep and serious?”
“What? No. Of course, n––”
“You can lie to yourself, but you can’t lie to us,” Raven cuts in before I can finish. “Even before you started to like him, Royal evoked strong emotions in you. Your battles with him brought you to life in a way nothing else has.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” I say, but there’s no heat in the words.
“Think about it, Callie,” Raven continues like I didn’t speak. “The old Royal challenged you. Even though they might have seemed negative at the time, the sparks between you were undeniable. The post-LA-trip Royal made you feel seen. He helped bring joy and excitement to your work. And he gave you orgasms. And the Royal you were unknowingly texting? He brought out the softer side of you. He was a friend. He made you laugh. He was someone who made you feel like hope could emerge from even the darkest days. And I hate to say it, but the three sides of Royal Manning combined? He’s the perfect man for you, Callie.”
I stare at her for a long moment, then turn to look at the other two. They nod in agreement, their eyes soft with understanding.
“I know it’s hard to regain trust after it’s been broken, but I think in this case, it would be worth the effort,” Joey says. “You should at least talk to him. Give him a chance to explain.”
“And even if you decide not to move forward with him,” Twila adds, “you owe it to yourself to hear him out. To get closure.”
I nod, my eyes and sinuses stinging with emotion, and pull my phone from my pocket. The girls remain silent as I pull up my text thread with “Emmett” and change the contact info to Royal’s name. Then, I send him a text.
Me: Are you free tomorrow? I think I’m ready to talk.