Chapter 30 #2
Calliope walked in the door with a sigh and a bottle of whisky.
“You fucked it up,” she said by greeting. “I normally love being right, but this time, I’ll admit, it stings.”
Her heels clicked as she walked to where I kept the glasses. Head in my hands, I heard the slosh of liquid followed by more clicking of heels.
I took the glass she offered me, downing it in one go. She was still holding the bottle, apparently right about the volume of booze I required too. She refilled it before sitting down.
“What do I do?” I asked after a second swallow. I wasn’t too proud to ask for help. Not now. I was desperate.
Calliope was kind enough not to look at me in pity.
To the contrary, she scowled. “I don’t know, Beau.
You’ve fucked up here. I make it a specialty in ruining men’s lives, and look at you, doing it all on your own.
” She shook her head. “You’ll just have to do two things men aren’t good at.
Be patient and trust. Trust that Hannah is the kind of woman who can forgive a man who doesn’t entirely deserve it.
” She patted my leg. “Not because you’re not a good man but because you hurt a good woman for no real good reason. ”
I took another sip to chase off the burn of her words.
“And grovel,” she added. “When she’s ready for that. I wouldn’t suggest it now. Give her time. We’re not perfect. We love to sabotage our lives. But she loves you. She loves Clara. She’s smart enough to know how stupid a good man can be.”
“So I have a chance?” I asked, not bothering to try to mask the pathetic hope from my tone.
Calliope did look at me with pity then, which scared the shit out of me.
“I don’t know, buddy. I hope to fuck you do.”
I did too.
HANNAH
Lori opened the door with a hug.
Surprised, I dropped my bags, then I sank into it. We’d gotten closer in the past months. She was my only friend. My best friend. But I’d worried that that was fragile too. Something I could lose.
I’d never had another woman hold me before. Never invited to experience a kind of comfort that felt real.
And it felt nice. To have somewhere to land when my heart was shattered. I hadn’t had that before. Told myself I didn’t need it when I left Waylon. That I had the strength to pick myself up.
But I had quickly come to understand the importance of girlfriends. Because they made sure you didn’t have to pick yourself up. They caught you.
Lori pulled back, wiping my tears. “I have junk food and The Mummy ready to go.”
“The Mummy?” I sniffled, thinking back to the first time we met. When I was unaware of the happiness that awaited me. And the loss.
She nodded with a wink. “And champagne, if you feel like drinking your troubles away.”
She reached down to get my bags. “I’ve got your room set up. You can stay as long as you want. It’s a wonderful excuse to kick Finn out,” she added with a wry grin. Then the grin fell. “Not that’s it’s wonderful that you’re here—”
“It’s okay,” I interrupted her. “Thank you,” I whispered, my voice shaking.
She reached out to squeeze my hand.
I was not alone.
I was at the park early, because I hadn’t slept. The tip of my nose was numb. As were my fingertips.
Because of the fresh dumping of snow in the night. One last breath of arctic winter before spring came in. Well, that was according to the weather report I listened to on the way over.
Mainly, I was cold because I didn’t have my coat.
My coat was hanging in Beau’s entryway. My heart was ruined, in pieces in the living room.
I’d purposefully gotten out of my car and stomped into the middle of the park to make sure I wasn’t in the parking lot when he arrived with Clara.
There was only one other truck in the lot. The actual playground was abandoned, no parents wanting to brave the chilly weather, likely being smart and staying warm inside with their children.
Their families.
I didn’t have one anymore.
No. I had Clara. I’d always have Clara. Whatever Beau had done to wreck both of us, I would not let it destroy what I had with her.
Even if I had no idea how I’d make it work. What would happen when Beau inevitably started dating again? What would happen if he got married and Clara got a stepmother?
I almost vomited in the snow thinking of it.
One thing at a time. Make snowmen with Clara and figure out how to make this breakup something that didn’t destroy her world.
My stomach bottomed out at the sight of Beau’s truck pulling up, parking directly beside my car.
That was why I was standing here. A not-so-subtle sign that I wanted him as far away as possible.
I didn’t want to catch a glimpse of him up close.
Seeing him get out of the truck, lifting out Clara was bad enough.
I made myself focus on Clara. No eye contact with Beau. I didn’t want to read anything on his face. What would hurt more… to see him detached and glacial already, or regretful? Pining?
I pleaded with the universe not to let Beau come with Clara. I couldn’t handle having to play nice in front of her, to have to speak to him. Nor did I want her to see us up close, in whatever new dynamic would arise while being broken up.
Thankfully, Beau walked her to the entrance of the park, then she came running toward me. Though I didn’t look at him, I knew his jaw was probably taut at her running through the snow, tensed for her to trip or hurt herself.
She didn’t.
I bent so she could jump into my arms. My entire body relaxed at her scent, her warmth, the weight of her.
I squeezed my eyes shut and let exactly one tear escape as I held her tight.
“I missed you,” she said to my hair, sounding sad. Confused.
My fractured heart broke further.
“I missed you more,” I told her honestly, giving her one last squeeze before letting her go.
She was wrapped up in a coat, hat, her cheeks flushed red. Healthy. It never ceased to amaze me, seeing the life in her. The energy I’d never take for granted.
“Daddy said you’re going to be staying with Lori for a while, to help her.” She chewed her lip. “And that you’d still look after me.”
I gritted my teeth. That fucking asshole. The coward hadn’t told her that we broke up. Why? I knew he cared about her feelings more than anything, but not telling her would only prolong the hurt.
Unless he was regretting his rash, stupid decision. A flame of hope burned in my heart, even as I tried to extinguish it. His regret didn’t mean anything. The damage was done.
“Your dad is right.” I pulled Clara’s hat down to cover her ears. “I’m going to be staying with Lori for a little while.”
I guessed I was a coward too. But it wasn’t my place to break apart Clara’s world. Her father had done that, so it was his responsibility. I already planned on sending a lengthy, angry text to him later today.
A text was juvenile, but I wasn’t strong enough to hear his voice, let alone stand in front of him.
I’d been hyperaware of him standing at the entrance to the park, feeling him watching us. The opening and closing of the truck door made me exhale in slight relief.
“I hate waking up without you,” Clara pouted.
“I hate it too.” I forced my tears down.
“Will you still put me to bed?” She gazed up at me hopefully.
Fucking Beau.
My anger for him helped keep me warm without a coat.
“On the nights your Daddy is working, absolutely,” I told her, settling on a half-truth.
But Clara was too sharp for that. “What about the other nights?”
There were only so many half-truths I could handle. “How about we figure that out later? This is probably the last snow of the year and our final chance for an epic snow sculpture."
Clara regarded me with hesitation. “But you don’t have your coat. Daddy brought it in the truck. Want him to bring it over?” She turned as though she was going to motion to him.
“No,” I replied a little louder than necessary. “I’m not cold,” I lied. “Let’s make snowmen.”
I knew Clara was not entirely convinced, but she was also a kid, so she was easily distracted.
As, apparently, was I. Because I didn’t notice him until it was too late.