Chapter 45
CALLUM
I’m not sure how I got here.
This parking spot has seen a lot of me over the last few months, but I don’t recall ever thinking I’d rather get run over by a car right here than reply to the messages Alia’s sending me.
My mind is still reeling after Moore dropped a reveal bomb that’s left me feeling like I’ll be picking shrapnel out of my heart for the foreseeable future.
I kept hoping I’d misunderstood something but, as time wore on, I was left to digest the unsettling news that Alia was leaving. . . me.
The voice in my head jeers at the plans I’d made. The future I’d started to envision.
My agitation has me wound so tightly I’m ready to snap at the slightest tug.
Alia:
Cal, please. Can we talk?
Talk about what? She could’ve pulled me aside at the bar and explained things. Why did she wait?
Alia:
I can come over if you’re tired.
Tired? Is that why I can’t breathe? I swallow the knot that’s been wedged in my throat for the last couple hours. The consistent stabbing behind my sternum doesn’t dissipate, my head pounding as innumerable thoughts collide into chaos.
Me:
I’m outside.
Not even a minute passes before I see Alia rushing down the path. She slows when I exit the car, slamming the door shut behind me.
We have maybe three feet of distance between us but, tragically, it feels insurmountable.
“I’ve been trying to get in touch with you,” she starts, clutching the skirt of her dress so tightly, it’s bound to leave creases.
I say nothing. She wears the same expression as she did at the bar, looking at me with discomfort, unsurety, and a whole host of emotions I don’t have the bandwidth to decipher.
“Callum?” In the silence of the night, her mellow voice falls on my skin like the lash of a crop. I hate that she sounds nervous. I hate what that could mean for us. My thin thread of patience frays.
“How long have you known? About the job?”
“A few days.”
“When were you going to tell me?”
“Soon. I was waiting for the right time,” she explains.
She steps closer, but she might as well be miles away. We’ve never had any hesitation in sharing our thoughts with each other, so I find it tough to accept that she chose to shut down at such a crucial time. Unless it was intentional.
“You told Moore easily enough.”
“He found out ten minutes before you did. And only because he overheard me speaking with Irsia. You’ve had games all week. I didn’t want to talk about this over the phone.”
“Oh, there are rules for communicating that you’re leaving the country?” I question sarcastically, unable to quell the sense of betrayal flaring within me. “Wasn’t aware, sorry.”
“Please calm down.”
“Don’t tell me to fucking calm down. The woman I l—”
I catch myself in time, but curiosity flares in her eyes.
“You’re leaving? Seriously?” I hate how pathetic I sound.
I don’t want to believe this is the end for us but, if she leaves, how will I show her what we can be?
We’ve only just gotten started. Or have I been a fool, reading too much into our interactions?
She said this was all temporary. She made it clear she wasn’t ready for a relationship.
In my desire for permanence, maybe I’m the one who overstepped, assuming she’ll change her mind. How fucking stupid.
“Why are you so angry?” she asks, brows drawn low. “You knew my moving back was always a possibility.”
She’s right, but my emotions refuse to adhere to the rules of logic. Not when that means abandoning the possibility of a relationship with her.
“Because you said you didn’t have anything keeping you here.” My voice is hoarse, the bridge of my nose stinging. My chest feels like it’s being clawed open, drawing blood and draining hope. “I thought that had changed.”
“Cal,” she pleads softly.
The pressure within my throat constricts my breath as I realize I’m losing this battle. Something sharp and unpleasant cuts through my gut, twisting my insides to the point where I could scream.
“I assumed I would be enough for you to stay.” My words are so bitter, her face grows ashen.
Jenna chose another man over me. But this time? It’s not even distance or my absence that’s pushing the woman I love to pick someone—something—else.
The woman I love. There. I can admit it to myself because it’s been true for a while.
But it’s not enough. I’m not enough.
Measured against cricket, I don’t make the cut.
The odor of defeat fills my nostrils, stale and pungent.
I wait for her to deny it. I wait for her to say she wants me. That she’ll stay here where we can make this relationship work, without the Pacific and a twelve-hour time difference dividing us.
But all she does is look at me with stricken eyes filled with pity and regret.
Nausea roils up my trachea. Now that I’m allowing myself to feel, it’s too much and it fucking sucks. My defense kicks in, scrambling to hide my emotions before I’m left bleeding all over the goddamn concrete.
“Clearly, this is my problem. I’ll deal with it.” I paste on an unbothered smile—a gnarly shadow of a true grin. “Couple orgasms, some fun. That’s what you signed up for.”
“Stop, Callum,” she scolds, sounding wounded.
I’m too far gone to rein in my wayward tongue. My hurt manifests itself in a word vomit I know I’ll regret.
“Let’s be honest. This was a friends-with-benefits thing and I got carried away.
My bad. I’ll throw in an extra orgasm to make it up to you.
But hey, I hope you’re happy. You got what you wanted.
” My tone is harsh but the devastation steadily ramping up within me controls me like an empty puppet, flinging accusations and cruel words in a desperate attempt to build walls to shield my wounded heart.
Silence surrounds us in a mist that weighs heavy. Too heavy.
I’m uncertain what the outcome of this standoff will be. For the first time since we’ve met, Alia and I are not aligned.
“You love hockey.” She says it like a question and statement rolled into one. “Imagine what you love, what keeps you going every day, is ripped from you.”
There is so much pain etched across her face, I grimace.
“God forbid,” she rasps, her voice breaking along with my heart, “I’d never want you to get hurt, Cal.
You are safe and healthy right now, able to do what you love.
But I wasn’t so lucky. My accident shattered not just a dream but completely negated who I thought I was.
Suddenly, I didn’t know myself.” She inhales a tattered breath.
“This is my chance to figure out who I am not as a player but as someone who still gets to make a difference in the sport that’s my life’s calling. ”
I don’t know what to say. I’m torn between wanting to apologize and holding on to this anger. It is so much easier to deal with fury than pain. The rejection I’m experiencing chafes, especially since I was so confident Alia was falling in love with me, too.
“Alia.”
“I’m not done,” she snaps.
I’ve seen her angry before but this? This mix of fury, desolation, heartache, and disappointment makes me ill. I never thought I’d be at the receiving end of it when all I’ve ever wanted was to make her happy.
“I’ve second guessed so many decisions,” she says. “I’ve worked incredibly hard to not question everything I do. You’ve encouraged me to stand my ground, so this is me advocating for myself. I understand you’re hurt, but to reduce how I feel about you to just sex?”
Embarrassment blankets me as her face scrunches in distaste, her color high. Her eyes glitter with unshed tears that tug at the binds around my heart, loosening them.
“This entire exchange has been you accusing me and making assumptions about my actions. When you’re ready for this to be a real conversation, let me know.”
Alia marches off without waiting for a response.
Come back. The words are imprisoned in my throat, refusing to liberate themselves. I can barely think, much less call out her name. I have nothing to say.
I want to be selfish. I’m still angry. And I fucking despise myself.
I gave in to the darkness hovering around the periphery of my heart and, in turn, poisoned my relationship with my favorite person.
She walks away, and I watch, afraid that this is exactly how she’ll leave me behind. Without a backward glance, without any knowledge of the devastation her absence is carving into me.
Yes, she’s going to India. But horror strikes too late when I realize my behavior has pushed her into believing I’m truly not worth staying for.
I want to follow her and beg for forgiveness. I want to kiss her tears away and hold her close. But even if I do, it changes nothing.
She’s not choosing me. Us.
I have no idea where we go from here.
No clue how to fix this.
I stare at the glass doors behind which the woman I love disappeared. And I wonder how I’ll ever be okay again.