Chapter Twenty Paul
Chapter Twenty
Paul
There's a long crack running through the ceiling of this shitty mold-scented motel room I now call home. I’m lying on the uncomfortable bed, where I’ve been for the last couple of hours, hearing the room on one side of me blasting their television, while the room on the other side seems to be using the motel for its pay-by-the-hour pricing.
It was the best I could do with the time I had. By the time I had pulled myself off the sand, it was too late to book a room at the Holiday Inn, so I had to settle for this.
Maybe I’m punishing myself.
I had stayed at the beach, completely lost in my own head, as the sky went from lavender to black, no moon, just an inky sky.
The air turned biting and sharp, the chill settling down deep in my bones, and my legs went numb from sitting in the sand.
I couldn't move. After I finally stopped crying, I stared at the water, watching the waves, half tempted just to let them carry me out.
I pointedly ignored the incessant buzzing in my pocket until my phone mercifully died. Elise, no doubt, and I don’t want to see her. I don’t want to see anyone.
Well, that’s not true. There is one person I want to see, but I guarantee she would rather never see me again. Not after what I'd done to her, not after the way I shattered her and everything around us.
So, pathetically, I lay on this shitty bed, taking in the sad state of my life.
And I think about Sophie.
God, Sophie...
Her beautiful face is always radiant and sweet.
Her joyful laugh, the one that could make you smile no matter what mood you were in.
I chuckle lightly whenever I think about the way she would take the hottest showers known to man and then still complain that they weren't hot enough. If it wasn’t boiling her, it was too cold.
I think about the way she only liked strawberry jam, and how she still cut the crusts off her bread, and how she hated orange juice with pulp so much she'd gag just looking at it.
The way she'd still wear a million layers in the middle of the summer, but needed the bedroom to be arctic to fall asleep.
She used to burrow under no fewer than five blankets and still press her ice-cold feet against my calves to warm them.
Sophie, I close my eyes and hold her close in my mind. Her voice, the scent of her shampoo, the feel of her pressed against me in sleep, her soft skin, and her silly humor. I try to hold onto the memories, but it feels as though they’re slipping away like sand through my fingers.
Because the reality is that I don't have her. I chose not to have her. I doused my life in gasoline, lit the match, and walked away before I could watch it burn. I told myself I couldn't handle the weight of it, that I wasn't strong enough, that I was doing the right thing for her and for me.
I have no one. I have nowhere to go.
Can't go to my parents' house—they hate me for cheating on Sophie.
Can't go to my friend's house—they hate me for cheating on Sophie.
Can't go to my office—not allowed back there for two months.
Can't go to my old apartment—for obvious reasons.
This town used to make me feel invincible, unable to step into a bakery or a coffee shop or the hardware store without someone calling out my name, "Pauly! How you doin', all-star?"
They would pull me in for hugs, shoulder claps, talking about our high school football team, about my parents and how proud they are of me, about how they knew I'd grow up to be successful. Some even saw me as a potential Mayor one day. I had a bright future ahead of me.
I was their golden boy, and this town used to be mine.
Not anymore.
Now, when I walk around this town, I'm greeted with stares, gawking, hissed whispers, and smirks.
When I enter a room, I feel the temperature drop.
In places I used to feel welcomed, I feel like an intruder, an outsider, unwanted.
I've never felt like that before. I think I'd prefer being invisible now.
From golden boy to cautionary tale, look how far I’ve fallen.
◆◆◆
On Sophie's birthday, I try to distract myself, wandering the streets of Starling Cove like a ghost, trying to keep my mind busy and my body moving. If I keep walking, if I keep moving, maybe I won't be forced to imagine her spending the day alone, all because of me.
I round the corner onto Main Street, the streets decorated for Fall with stalks of corn tied to every street post, bales of hay and adorable scarecrows on the street corners, and pumpkins galore on the steps of the businesses.
The sight that used to make me smile was a sign that we were in the middle of football season.
There’s no comfort in the sight, not anymore.
It’s just a reminder of time passing without Sophie.
As I pass a blue SUV parked on the street, I stumble. That’s my dad's SUV parked, confirmed when I peek at the back and see the New England Patriots decal and an old, faded Starling Cove Football bumper sticker with my number on it.
Why are they out here now? It's past eight, which means most of the shops on this block are closed, signs flipped, and owners locking up and heading home. The streetlamps illuminate the sign to the only store still humming with life, and it's one I've never been inside.
Rivers & Rhodes Bookstore
Books were always more Sophie's thing, as the bookshelves in the apartment were filled with stories that she would read over and over again.
I never had the patience for reading. Sophie could get lost in a book for hours, completely shut off from the world as she immersed herself in her little stories.
Drawn toward the store, and the soft, warm light coming from the big window at the front. Moving closer, I spot my mom's red hair immediately, and next to her, I see my dad with his arm around her, as they talk animatedly with a blonde woman of the same age.
Wait, I think I might recognize that blonde...
My heart stops dead in my chest as I look further into the shop, all thoughts of my parents leaving my brain.
Because I see her.
Sophie.
My lungs forget how to breathe for a moment.
My heart stutters, then kicks up almost violently in my chest at the sight of her.
I had tormented myself with the image of cancer-ridden Sophie—gaunt and bald and frail and wasting away in front of me.
If it were that painful to think of her that way, it would have been agony to witness it.
So really, I was doing myself a favor, right?
This isn't that. Not even close.
What I see is just Sophie—my Sophie—beautiful and radiant. She's glowing, looking more alive than I've ever seen her, beaming brightly while in what looks like a new outfit. There's a pink crown on her head and a matching sash that reads Birthday Princess.
She’s smiling, happy, looking up at...
Recognition washes over me, almost taking me to the ground. The name conjured in my head lands like a punch.
Callum Rhodes.
He looks different from the way he did as a kid.
Back then, he had been pudgy, always blushing and stuttering, shy, and a little too naive.
He was a year younger than me, really smart, and genuinely nice.
I felt relaxed around him, like I could talk about the more nerdy stuff I liked that the friends I had been trying to get in with would scoff at and make fun of me for.
In high school, after that thing with Lauren, I had felt bad for setting him up, especially after seeing his embarrassed face, but.
.. I don’t know, I just didn’t really consider his feelings that much.
I could blame it on being a teenager, but I knew it was wrong and did it anyway.
Thank fuck my mom never found out about that, she would have reamed me out for it.
We never spoke again. I had started football, and Callum disappeared into just another person in the hallways of Starling Cove.
I remember seeing him once before I graduated and being surprised by how he looked.
He was tall, broad as a building, and was walking the hallways with more confidence, flanked by two guys and laughing with them.
That had been the last time I had seen him.
Until now. He's smiling at my Sophie, his eyes locked onto her face, and a soft smile on his lips. The look on his face makes my stomach twist. He looks at her like she's a precious treasure, and if he takes his eyes off her for a second, she'll disappear.
He looks at her like she's the only person in the universe.
Even worse than that, Sophie is beaming back at him in a way I've never seen before. Her gorgeous eyes sparkle, her face flushed and glowing, as if lit from within. She says something to him, and he laughs, causing her smile to widen.
The look shared between them, their body language as they instinctively lean toward each other, makes me feel sick. Sophie shakes her head at something Callum tells her, doing that sexy little teasing look she used to give me, and Callum reaches out and brushes a stray hair away from her face.
Jealousy burns in my stomach like acid, and my lungs can't get in enough air as his face looks so tenderly at her.
Sophie's expression turns a little shy as she bites her lip. Callum grins, grabs her right hand, and lifts it to his lips, placing a lingering kiss on the back of it.
It all overwhelms me in an instant. Fear. Regret. Shame. Anger. Longing. Self-loathing.
The brutal cocktail of emotions tears through me like poison. Nausea increases tenfold, and I move to the alley next to the store. I violently retch as I empty the contents of my stomach right there.
"Ugh, fucking gnarly!"
A smoky voice exclaims so suddenly that I startle. Still bent over and disoriented, I turn the wrong way and smack my head into the brick wall. Pain blasts my temple and momentarily blinds me. "Fuck!"