Chapter 9
NINE
Birdie
Present Day
“We’ll see you tomorrow, Birdie,” Andy, one of the hospital security guards, says as I walk past him and head for the exit.
“See you tomorrow, Andy,” I smile back. “Have a good evening.”
He nods and gives me a friendly wave.
This is the hardest part about being a contract employee. It’s fun to experience living in new cities, but I quickly get attached to the people I meet. People like Andy. It’s only my third shift at Gulf Shores Memorial Hospital, and I can already tell that Andy is looking out for me.
He reminds me of my dad in so many ways. His eyes crinkle in the corners when he smiles, the creases across his face telling stories of wisdom and knowledge.
I’ve learned countless life lessons during my career as a travel nurse. But the biggest one is that you can find wonderful people everywhere you go. People who are truly good down to their core. Each time I leave a new city, it gets harder and harder to say goodbye to my friends and co-workers.
But the thought of being away from home for too long scares me. Because home is the place that reminds me of him .
I feel a sense of peace when I return to South Carolina after a lengthy contract. But I know it’s time to hit the road again when I find myself staring at walls and wondering if the ache will ever go away.
That’s why I chose this career. It’s a short-term fix for my shattered heart. It helps to mask my pain, at least until I’m home again in Myrtle Beach.
The screech of the automatic doors catches my attention as I walk out into the warm night air. I have never been more excited to get home and take a shower in my entire life. Today's ten-hour shift felt like an eternity. My navy scrubs have a big stain down the front from the coffee I spilled this morning, and my hair is pulled back in a tangled ponytail.
Let’s just say it’s not my best day in the looks department.
I keep my head down, scrolling through unread text messages as I walk through the dimly lit parking lot. When I lift my gaze, I stop dead in my tracks.
I suck in a sharp breath as my heart drops down to my ass. I ball my hand into a fist to keep my keys from slipping from my trembling fingers.
I blink a few times, ensuring I’m not imagining things due to being deliriously tired. But the more I blink, the more precise he becomes.
What the fuck is Callum Pierce doing here? At my place of work?
His long body is casually leaning against the driver’s door of my Honda Civic, looking like he owns the damn thing. His arms are folded across his broad chest, accentuating the prominent muscles beneath his white dress shirt. The first few buttons of the shirt are open, revealing his tan skin…the chest that I used to map with my fingers. He looks like he just got off work in black slacks and dress shoes.
I wonder what Callum does for a living?
Probably a career that requires lots of lying.
“Hey, Birdie,” he mutters nervously, his velvet voice piercing the night air like a dagger.
I want to slap him for how good he looks. I want to smack that smug grin off his handsome face. Why can’t he be balding with a beer belly? Why must the universe make him hotter than I could have ever imagined?
I narrow my eyes at him and shake my head in disgust.
“Get off my car,” I demand, standing a good six feet away from him.
His face falls with disappointment.
“I need to talk to you.”
My brows shoot up as I audibly scoff at his ridiculous request.
“It’s a little late for that,” I sneer, nostrils flaring.
He rubs a palm against his chin, regret marring his features.
“Please, Birdie,” he begs softly. My name falls from his lips like a somber whisper.
As genuine as he sounds, I’ve learned that Callum Pierce knows how to put on a damn good show. I would be a fool to give an ounce of sympathy.
“I’m going to ask you nicely one last time,” I grit out. “Please get off of my car. It’s been a long day, and I want to go home. So please, just leave.”
And never come back.
He arches a challenging brow and flashes me a wolfish grin.
“What’s going to happen next?” he asks. “Are you going to meanly ask me to move? It’s been a while since I’ve seen you angry, Birdie. ”
Is he really smirking at me right now?
This motherfucker.
Who the hell does this guy think he is? He’s acting as if no time has passed between us. Like he didn’t completely disappear and ghost me for the past eleven years. He’s acting like he didn’t obliterate my heart. It’s honestly such a slap in the face—a breath-stealing sucker punch to the gut.
My chest heaves up and down as anger and outrage take over. I glower at him, lowering my voice to a lethal tone.
“What’s going to happen next,” I repeat his question through clenched teeth, “is that I’m going to call the cops and tell them that I have a fucking stalker. I’m going to tell them that a strange man is harassing me. Because that’s what you are to me, Callum. A stranger.”
My body trembles, not because I’m scared or anxious. I’m so furious with him that I’m shaking. My skin is crawling at his carelessness.
A beat of silence passes before he slowly shakes his head, his eyes filling with sorrow.
“That’s not true–”
“Is it not?” I cut him off, raising my voice. “I don’t know you, and you don’t know me. Not anymore.”
He holds my stare while rubbing the back of his neck in frustration.
“That’s such a fucking lie, and you know it, Birdie.”
I feel like I walked out of the hospital and entered an alternative universe. One where logic doesn't exist and Callum doesn't know the definition of betrayal.
“Aside from where I work and what I drive, you know nothing about me. Not anymore,” I shoot back. “How the hell did you even find me? How did you know that this was my car?”
For a split second, his eyes light up as if he’s relieved that I’m even entertaining his bullshit. Aside from kicking a guy in the balls in high school, I’ve never hit another person. But Callum is lucky I haven't clocked him in his pretty face by now.
“After we ran into each other at the grocery store, I had to see you again,” he replies breathlessly. “I looked you up and found out through LinkedIn that you work at the hospital. And as for your car…It’s the only vehicle in the parking lot with a South Carolina license plate. So, I just took a guess.”
I still can’t believe this.
After all these years, Callum is at my work, begging me to give him the time of day after he quite literally robbed me of my youth.
I audibly scoff before I throw my head back and start hysterically laughing. I probably look like I’m going out of my mind, but I can’t help myself. I don’t know what else to do at this point but crack up at his audacity. I laugh and laugh into the darkness until tears leak from the corners of my eyes.
“God, I missed your laugh.”
Those five words shut me up real quick. My body goes eerily still.
I hear nothing but a loud ringing as I slowly lower my gaze to Callum. My gut churns with rage as I prepare to put this motherfucker in his place.
His eyes widen as I walk toward him and push my pointer finger into the middle of his hard chest.
Against my will, a warm zip shoots down my spine like an arrow.
“You don’t deserve my laugh,” I fume through gritted teeth. “You don’t deserve my smile. You don’t deserve my words. You don’t deserve a second of my damn time. You deserve nothing from me. Get off of my fucking car and leave me alone. For good. ”
Before I have a chance to move my finger from his chest, he wraps a large hand around my wrist. My skin burns from his touch. It aches, begging for more and betraying my broken heart.
“I need you to listen to me for two minutes,” he deadpans, his eyes bouncing between mine. “Two fucking minutes, Birdie. That’s all I’m asking for.”
Using all my strength, I tear my wrist from his grip before slapping my palms on his shoulders and shoving him to the side. Like a brick wall, he barely moves. But I push him hard enough to put a few inches of space between us and reach the door handle.
“You don’t get to ask me for anything,” I seethe, gripping the handle and slinging my door open.
He must think this is some kind of sick game because he steps around to the front of my car. Standing directly in front of the hood, he crosses his arms over his chest.
“What are you going to do? Run over me?” he taunts. “I need to talk to you, Birdie. Just give me one damn minute.”
I cannot believe this shit right now. I can’t fathom the fact that he is demanding I speak with him after all these years. After he shattered me into a million pieces and left me eternally crushed. I have never encountered such an arrogant piece of shit in my entire life.
Unable to hold back any longer, I unleash my wrath. Words that I’ve wanted to scream at him for years.
“Who the hell do you think you are?” I shout. “You think you can just waltz back into my life and demand to speak to me after eleven years? Or did you forget that you fucked me—took my virginity —and then abandoned me the very next day? Did you forget that you were my best friend, my everything, before you betrayed me in the worst possible way? Because I didn’t forget, Callum. I remember everything . I remember crying until I threw up. I remember my mom driving me to get help because I was a shell of a human. I remember getting put on meds because I was too depressed to function. I remember questioning my worth, wondering how the person I loved most in this world could hate me so much. I remember mourning the loss of a person who is still alive. A person that didn’t want me anymore.”
My chest shakes as I try to steady my breathing.
Callum’s brows knit together in pain, and his eyes fill with water as he frantically shakes his head.
“No–”
I cut him the fuck off. Because I’m not done.
“But most importantly,” I continue, “I remember pulling myself out of the ashes. It took me years, but I took back the narrative. I learned that my self-worth has nothing to do with a coward who walked away without the decency to say goodbye. After hating myself for years, I finally realized that you did me a favor. You stripped me bare and made me love my scars. You shattered me, but I put myself back together. Now that I know my worth, I will never let you take that from me again. There used to be a gold-plated door in my heart with your name on it. But I slammed that door shut a long time ago. It’s locked, sealed, and barred for good. I will never allow you back in my life again. So, for the last time, get the hell out of my way.”
He stares at me through wide eyes before slowly blinking. A lone tear drips from the corner of his eye and rolls down his cheek.
I’m doing everything in my power to hold back my own sobs. It’s so unbelievably sad that this is how things turned out between us.
“Birdie…” he croaks, rounding the front of the car to step into my space. “You don’t understand–”
I finally fucking lose it because he’s the one who doesn't understand. He has no idea the hell that I went through because of him.
“I hate you!” I scream. “Don’t you understand? I fucking hate you, Callum Pierce!”
The tears I was so desperately trying to hold back break loose, streaming down my face like the currents of a roaring river.
Before he has a chance to stop me or watch another tear fall, I quickly drop into my car and slam the door. I flinch as his large palm splays out against the window. His fingers make a loud squeaking noise against the glass as I stomp my foot down on the pedal and speed off.
“Birdie!” I faintly hear him shout through the window. “Birdie Wren!”
And then, I hear nothing.
I don’t look back. I leave him just like he left me. Alone and smashed to smithereens.