Chapter 35
CALLUM
Isat on my couch with a glass of scotch in my hand, staring at nothing. The bottle was half empty. It had been full yesterday. I couldn’t even remember drinking most of it. I just knew I felt like shit and deserved to feel like shit. I deserved worse, actually.
My phone buzzed on the coffee table. I glanced at it. Another text from Drew. The fifth one today. I couldn’t bring myself to answer. No one wanted to hear my complaining. It had been a self-inflicted wound. I didn’t even want to be around myself. Unlike most people, my misery did not want company.
I took another sip of scotch and winced.
It burned going down. I was already thinking about the pizza I was going to order for dinner.
Extra cheese. And breadsticks. With ranch.
I wanted to go all in. I knew what I was doing to myself and I didn’t care.
I was making myself sick. Making myself physically miserable.
For the first time in my life, I’d found someone who made me want more. Someone who made me want to be better. And I’d fucked it all up. No wonder I had never found love before. I didn’t know what the hell to do with it when it was staring me in the face.
The doorbell rang. I ignored it. Drew and Dash knew the code. No one else was needed. I wanted privacy for my spiral.
The doorbell rang again. And again. Someone was holding it down.
“Fuck,” I muttered, getting up. My head swam a little. Too much scotch. Not enough food.
I opened the door to find Drew standing there, arms crossed, looking pissed.
“Finally,” he said. “You locked the door.”
“As if that has ever stopped you before.”
“I wanted to make you get up,” he said with a grin.
“I’m not in the mood,” I said, turning to walk back to the couch.
“Good, neither am I.” Drew followed me in, closing the door behind him. “Shit, it stinks in here. When’s the last time you showered?”
“What day is it?”
“Thursday. The show is tomorrow night, since you seem to have forgotten.”
I hadn’t forgotten. I’d just been trying not to think about it. I was in sweet, sweet oblivion. Okay, it wasn’t exactly sweet, but the darkness of the almost-oblivion was a lot better than the hard edges of reality.
“Have you had a breakdown?” Drew asked, sitting on the chair across from me. “Seriously.”
“Can’t a man have a little personal time?”
“Dude, it’s been a week. Get it together.”
“Fuck off, it hasn’t been a week.”
“Close enough.” He nudged me with his foot. “Now come on. She said you guys would figure things out after the show. It’s time to focus on that.”
I slumped back into the couch. “She’s just going to tell me it’s over.”
“She will if you talk to her looking like this, you slug.” He laughed at his own description of me.
“Did you come over here just to make fun of me?” I asked, glaring at him.
He grinned. “That’s not why I came over, but it’s a nice bonus. Believe it or not, I want to make sure you’re okay.” Drew looked at me for a long moment. “Which you’re obviously not. Fuck this pity party. Get some fucking shoes on.”
“What?” I asked, wondering if I had misheard him.
“We’re going for a run,” he said. “No more feeling sorry for yourself and drinking. You need to get your shit together if you want your girl back.”
I stared at him. “You’re serious?”
“Deadly. Up. Now.”
“I’m drunk.”
He laughed. “And whose fault is that? You need to get that shit out of your system so you can think straight. You are a mess right now.”
“I don’t care.”
“Oh, so you don’t care about losing Victoria?” he asked. “Because that’s what I’m hearing right now. And if that’s the case, you’re being a total drama queen with all this moping.”
“I hate you,” I muttered.
He reached out a hand. I took it and allowed him to pull me to my feet. I was a little buzzed but not actually drunk.
He grinned. “There you go. Upright and everything.”
I wanted to argue, but it was easier to move on autopilot and just do what he said. I went to my room, changed into running clothes, and laced up my shoes. Maybe he was right and this was what I needed. To sweat out all the booze and misery.
We started at a moderate pace, but Drew quickly increased it. By the time we hit the second mile, I was breathing hard. Sweat poured down my face, stinging my eyes. My lungs burned.
“Good,” Drew said. “Get it out. All that poison.”
“Fuck you,” I managed between breaths.
I stank. I could smell the scent of liquor seeping from my pores. My body felt like it was going to melt. I was going to puke.
“I can’t,” I gasped.
“You will,” Drew said. “Keep going.”
“I’m going to throw up.”
“Keep your eye on the prize,” Drew said as we turned a corner without slowing. “Tomorrow night. The charity show. Victoria will be there. Will you?”
I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. I was too focused on not dying.
“You’ll talk to her,” Drew continued. “Tell her the truth. That you love her.”
“I don’t love her,” I said reflexively.
“Yes, you do,” he said with a smile. “You’re just too much of a pussy to admit it to yourself. So fight for her.”
Was he right? Love didn’t happen this quickly, did it?
We ran in silence for a while, not by choice but because I couldn’t speak. Every ounce of energy was focused on not puking old scotch on my sneakers. My legs felt like jelly. My heart hammered in my chest. But the exhaustion burned away the indecision. It shut down the noise and my mind cleared.
I couldn’t let her go. The thought of saying goodbye to her made me feel like I was suffocating. She was mine. I was hers. I had to make her see that.
I increased my pace, surprising Drew. He matched me, a grin spreading across his face.
“That’s it,” he said. “That’s the Callum I know. Fight back and show me you’re better than I am. Faster. Stronger. Although less funny.”
I pushed harder. The physical pain was nothing compared to what I’d been feeling. This, I could handle. I would tell her everything. I’d tell her I was sorry and I’d do anything to make it right. And I would tell her I loved her.
That was wild. I didn’t even think I knew what love was. But I knew that’s what I felt. I did love her. I loved Victoria, and I was going to fight for her.
“Let’s head back,” I said to Drew, finally finding the strength to talk. “I have things to do before tomorrow night.”
Drew grinned. “Welcome back, brother. Do you think we can Uber home?”
“Nope,” I said.
We turned around and headed back the way we’d come.
With each step, I planned what I would say to Victoria.
By the time we reached my house, I felt like I might actually die, but in a good way.
My lungs were on fire, my legs were shaking, and I was drenched in sweat.
I collapsed on the front steps, gasping for air.
“See? Much better than drinking yourself into a coma,” Drew said, not nearly as winded. In my defense, he hadn’t been living on scotch and sadness for the last few days.
“You’re an asshole,” I managed between breaths.
“The asshole who just saved your life. I expect a shout out at the wedding.” He held out his hand and pulled me to my feet. “Now, go shower. You smell like a urinal at the bar.”
I held my arms open and went in for a hug. “Bring it in, Drew.”
He laughed and shooed me off him. “Get away, you stinky fucker. Save the hugs for Victoria.”
Chuckling, I stumbled inside and headed straight for the bathroom.
The hot water felt amazing against my sore muscles.
I stood under the spray for what felt like forever, letting it wash away the grime of my self-destructive binge.
When I finally stepped out, I felt human again. Not great but human.
I found Drew in the kitchen, blending something in my Vitamix. The green concoction looked disgusting.
“Drink this,” he said, pushing a glass toward me. “It’ll help with the hangover.”
“What’s in it?” I asked suspiciously.
“Kale, spinach, ginger, lemon, banana, and a few other things that are good for you.” He grinned. “It’s Hollis’s secret recipe. Don’t tell him I stole it. Just drink it.”
I took a sip and grimaced. “This tastes like lawn clippings.”
“He’s still tinkering with the taste. But it’ll make you feel better.” He took out his phone. “I’m ordering you some real food. Something with actual protein.”
I sat at the kitchen island, sipping the green sludge. As gross as it was, I was starting to feel more alert. The fog in my brain was lifting. If Hollis could make it taste edible, he might actually be onto something.
Drew scrolled through a delivery app. “When’s the last time you actually ate something that wasn’t liquid?”
“I had pizza,” I said.
He ordered me a grilled chicken salad with extra avocado and salmon on the side. Health food, but I didn’t mind. It wasn’t too different from what I normally ate.
“Thanks for this,” I said after he’d placed the order. “I know I’ve been a pain in the ass.”
Drew looked up from his phone. “Yeah, you have. But you’re allowed to have feelings. It’s just my job to pull you out of your funk before you fuck this whole thing up.”
“I appreciate it,” I said.
“In the meantime, you need to figure out what you’re going to say to Victoria tomorrow night. Because you can’t just show up and expect things to magically fix themselves.”
I nodded. He was right. I needed a plan. I needed to show her that I understood what I’d done wrong and that I was willing to change.
“I think I know what I need to say,” I told him. “I just hope it’s enough.”
“It better be, because you’ll be insufferable if you break up.”
“As always, your support means the world to me,” I said with a grin.
“This is what real support looks like,” Drew said with a shrug.
“Go home.”
“Nope. Not yet.” He walked out of the kitchen. I was about to get up and dump the rest of the smoothie when he returned with my bottle of scotch. I watched as he poured it down the sink.
“Why would you do that?” I asked.
“Because you need to drink water. No more of this.”
“You know I have a full bar, right? Shit, I have two if I’m counting the one out back.”
“It’s symbolic.”
I shook my head. I didn’t have the energy to argue.
The doorbell rang, signaling the arrival of our food. I got up to get myself some water and I caught my reflection in the fridge door. Even after the shower, I looked like hell—pale, tired, and older than my years.
Drew returned with a few bags. Grilled chicken salad was never going to be my favorite food, but after liquor and greasy pizza the last few days, it actually looked good.
He had ordered a salad for himself. After the first few bites of chicken, I could feel my body coming alive. I was never going to tell Drew he was right, but damn, he’d been right.
“Better?” he asked after we’d finished.
I nodded. “Yes.”
“Good. Go to bed. Sleep for twelve hours. You need your beauty rest for tomorrow.” He grabbed another bottle of water and paused.
“And if you think you’re going for another drink, call me.
If I find out you crawled back into the bottle, I’ll drag your ass down to the beach for running on the sand. It won’t be pretty.”
“Yeah, yeah. Just wait. It’ll happen to you.”
“The hell it will. Definitely not after seeing what you’re going through.” Drew laughed. “Love will fuck a guy up.”
After he left, I went to my room and collapsed on my bed. I was exhausted. The run and the lack of sleep had caught up with me.
Hopefully, tomorrow night I would reclaim my life.