Chapter 50
Carrie slammed the tailgate of the pickup she’d rented for the move and dusted her hands on the thighs of her jeans. “Well, that’s it, I’m off.”
Cal came around from the side of the trailer, making sure it was hooked up securely and that the safety chain was on.
“It’s crazy how a whole life condenses into boxes, hey?
” He cleared his throat and rattled off a list of trip safety points and some tips about driving when towing a trailer, which, aside from practicing in the Canadian Tire parking lot after hours the other night, Carrie had never done before.
Then he reassured her that he’d manage her place and make sure her renter was taken care of.
She let him ramble, then reached up and touched his cheek. “I love you too, and don’t worry. I’ll be fine. And so, big brother, will you.”
He cleared his throat. “Yeah, yeah, I know. And it’s good. I’m happy for you, Care.”
She grabbed the assist handle at the top of the driver’s side window, about to climb behind the wheel, then turned to him once more. “So, what’s the story with you and Vic?”
Leave it to Carrie to open a can of worms just as she was about to leave, like it was a one-liner answer. And maybe it was.
He looked away, studying nothing in the distance. “No story. It’s done. You were right.”
She nodded, but didn’t look remotely smug or victorious about it.
By avoiding discussing Vic any further with Carrie after their initial conversation about their breakup, Cal had managed to compartmentalize and put Vic out of his mind.
But only when he was busy helping Carrie get sorted.
It seemed like every other hour of the day she was floating beside him, her laughter in his ear, the softest traces of her sugar and spice perfume wafting near.
And now, with this simple-not-simple question, she was back in his head full force.
A million images and conversations rolled through his mind.
How patient and attentive she was to Audra, even in the face of Audra’s almost constant criticism.
The yearning and love visible on Vic’s face whenever she mentioned her son.
The candidness with which she accepted responsibilities for the strain and distance in their relationship.
How had her and Michael’s visit gone? It killed Cal not to know.
Worry that it had gone badly, and that he wasn’t there to support her, plagued him.
He thought about how she was with Gwen and Madeline, who clearly weren’t worried about Vic’s integrity as a person or as a friend.
He considered the seriousness with which she took her job—and her work.
The way she was with him, so open, gentle, kind and—
He closed his eyes briefly.
“What’s wrong? Having a stroke?” Carrie teased.
He ignored her.
People were complicated. Who they said they were and saw themselves as was never fully accurate.
Actions did, as the saying goes, speak louder than words.
But who didn’t make mistakes? Do things they’d do anything to take back?
Act out of pain? Do things that were incongruous with who they were or wanted to be.
Some of Vic’s actions were hard for him to reconcile with her—for precisely that reason: they didn’t fit with the Vic he knew.
And if he wanted to criticize someone’s actions, why not his own?
Why hadn’t he had the balls to at least have a conversation?
Instead, he’d shut her down when she’d tried to tell him news that he’d find hard to hear—then punished her by closing off to her when it came out.
He frowned. It was exactly what he’d done in past relationships.
“Cal?” There was genuine concern in Carrie’s voice now.
He shook his head and opened his eyes. Smiled. “All good. Had a bit of a brain stutter, that’s all.”
Her face paled.
“Not what you think. Not a medical problem,” he added. “Relax and get going. You wanna get as far down the road as you can while it’s still light.”
She nodded, slightly teary herself now. “I’m still planning to overnight in PG. I’ll text when I get there.”
They hugged goodbye, and that was that. Carrie was on the road, and Cal was a family of one once more—and wham! Just like that, Vic was instantly back in his head. And how much he missed her. And Christmas. And, wonder of wonders, even Audra.
He climbed into his van, shut the door, and fastened his seatbelt—but didn’t start the engine.
He had nothing to get home to, and his brain wasn’t done torturing him.
For the first time in weeks, he had nothing to distract him from the replay of the events at Jack’s that ran in his head the minute he wasn’t completely occupied—and that increasingly made him sick to his stomach.
It was the look on Vic’s face when Monika went for her like a shark sensing blood in the water that haunted Cal most—the unspoken plea in her huge, sad eyes.
And what hadn’t registered at the time but lately was all he could think about: how her look of misery wasn’t directed toward her tormenters, but at him.
And of course it was. Of course it was. He was a damn fool.
The stealing had been hard to get his head around because it seemed so out of character. Vic was such a giver. He couldn’t see her just . . . taking.
And he never would’ve thought in a million years that someone as wonderful, warm, smart, kind, and creative as Vic would let herself be relegated to other woman status.
It hurt him that she’d settled for so little, like she didn’t realize how much she deserved to be loved.
This Brent clown, whoever he was . . . Cal clenched and unclenched his fists.
What an ass. An even bigger ass than he himself was—Vic’s wide-eyed, hurt expression filled his mind again.
Okay, maybe not bigger. Brent hadn’t chosen her—and, although, yes, the situation was different .
. . the facts were the same. When push came to shove, Cal hadn’t chosen her either.
He rested his head on his steering wheel, then lightly banged his forehead against it.
He had completely failed and betrayed Vic.
First by not allowing her to share the things she’d repeatedly said she needed to.
Then by not having her back and defending her to Monika and Kelsey.
And then, again, by refusing to talk about Monika’s accusations and still not listening to her or hearing her out.
He had lost her, and that was fair. It was exactly what he deserved, in fact. But she deserved an apology. It was the very, very least he could do after being such an absolute jackass.