Chapter 90 If You Go…
if you go…
Cal
When a knock sounds at my door, I know it will be Billie.
Steeling myself for the heartbreaker I know is coming, I get up from my spot on the couch and check the peephole to confirm it’s her.
Oh, it’s her…looking just as beautiful and confident as she always does.
I—I can’t do this—
I abruptly open the door but turn away, returning to the couch without greeting her or even inviting her inside.
It’s shitty manners, yes, and she doesn’t deserve to be treated this way, but maybe it’ll be better for both of us to just rip the bandage off in one fell swoop.
I had UNLV football on before she came, so I focus my attention back on the television.
A few seconds later, I feel the weight of her body sit on the couch beside me.
We sit in silence for what feels like a long time. Time that will steal away the last moments we have together. Sucks.
I can smell the citrusy scent of the shampoo she uses in her hair.
I know it now—a combination of lemon and orange with something darker, cloves maybe—I love smelling it when I’m close to her.
But when she’s gone and in LA to do her album, I won’t have the intoxicating scent of her hair around to smell anymore.
No Billie. No hair. No citrus-clove shampoo to smell when I’m kissing her neck or waking up to her hair tangled across the pillows.
And that all feels…fucking terrifying.
I love she’s here right now, but I also hate the conversation we’re about to have. She reaches out and puts her hand on my thigh. “Why are you shutting down on me?”
“You know why.” I wish I could say more, but my words won’t be right anyway.
“I need you to talk to me about this.” She sounds so sad.
“What is there to say, Billie?” When I turn to look at her, she’s so perfect, it takes my breath away.
Her hair is in a messy bun, the purple ends flipping up in the back.
She’s wearing a Crush hoodie and a pair of workout leggings.
I see her this way when I imagine us being together, living together, making a life together.
And I know I should tell her these things.
I should let her know how much having her in my life means to me. That I’m in love with her.
But those words are buried and don’t come.
“Calum, I know you’re upset about me having to go to LA…”
“You know I have a hard time with change. I’ve told you before. I’m finally happy here. I was playing well until the injury. I like—I love being with you. Things have been good. But if you go—”
“I worry that you just like having a person. Like, your person, you know? A person who makes you feel comfortable in an environment.” She starts to rub her hand slowly back and forth on my thigh.
“Is that so wrong? I chose you. I care about you. And yes, it makes me feel steady to have someone to be close to, but it doesn’t mean I don’t love you. I do love you. You know that.”
“We can love each other and be in different places for a while. Being apart doesn’t mean we can’t still be together. You travel a lot anyway and we talk all the time when you’re on the road now.”
“I know, but if you go to LA, who says you won’t find someone else who’s a better fit for you?”
“A better fit for me? Like, you think I’m going to accept résumés for the role of boyfriend?
Really. Like I’m going to hire someone who better fits the skill set I’m looking for?
” Billie laughs bitterly, shaking her head.
“It doesn’t work that way, Calum. I’m in love with you.
With you. I’m not looking for someone else because I want to be with you. ”
“Emily found someone the minute I left Montreal.”
“Well, I’m not Emily.” A scowl crosses her face.
“I know, you’re nothing like her.”
“Do you? Because all I can see is someone who’s scared and using his lame ex to shut down on his awesome new rock star girlfriend.”
I look at her, and I hope she can see how this makes me feel, how much I want her to stay.
“I’m not Emily,” she says again, with a shake of her head.
“I care about you so much and I know this is hard for you, but I’m not her.
And our relationship isn’t even close to what you had with her.
But I need to do this and if you love me, you will understand and support that, even if it makes you uncomfortable. It’s just for a couple of months.”
“And then what? After you make your album? You go on tour? You leave me behind again?”
“While you continue to travel for hockey? While you’re never home for longer than a five-day span before you’re back on the road again? While you get to do what you love? You followed your passion even when your parents wanted otherwise. Why is it wrong for me to do the same?”
She’s right, of course, but it doesn’t change what I know about myself.
“I need stability.” I stare down at my hands.
“It’s not that I don’t care about your life and your dreams, Billie.
I do. I see how amazing you are at the club helping those kids.
The band is awesome, but who knows where it will take you.
I’m happy for you, I am, but I’m also a realist. I know myself, but more importantly, what I cannot do.
I know that I cannot do what you’re asking of me.
The not knowing will fuck me up and I can’t go to that place in my head again…
twice in the same season. I’m the goalkeeper for an elite NHL team.
My job is to stop pucks. I won’t be able to do that job very well if my head is all fucked from another long-distance relationship breaking down because we’re in two different places.
” I pause. Fuck, I hate this. I hate this so much.
Like a limb is being torn from my body. “If you go…”
I dare to find her eyes again. One last time of just looking at her and soaking in her image because it will have to be enough. There won’t be more. Her dark, soulful eyes fill with tears, cutting me deep for knowing I’m hurting her. I’m so sorry. “I just can’t go there again.”
“What were you about to say before, Calum? If I go?” she asks so softly I almost didn’t hear her from the blowing vortex roaring between my ears.
I say the words that’ll be the death blow. There’ll be no us after I say them.
“Then you go, Billie. But we’re done.”