by Ella Fields
“You don’t even know what I was going to say.”
I shook my head, trying to swallow down the revulsion that’d pooled in the pit of my stomach at seeing those condoms. “I know enough.”
I gathered his shirt, gesturing for him to bend over so he could push his head through the hole. He snatched it from me, tossing it to the ground as he cornered me against the drawers. “How about less avoiding and more talking?”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” I said, my voice all breath as he loomed over me. “There’s no point, Callum. There’s … just too much.”
Tipping my chin up, he swung his eyes between mine, regret weighing his lips down. “Then why is there still so much left between us?”
“History.” I swallowed over the word. “We have history, but that’s what it needs to remain.”
“It doesn’t, and you know it.”
I scowled. “Let me go.”
Eyes imploring, his voice turned whisper-soft. “I haven’t used them, haven’t been”—he blew out a warm breath—“haven’t been able to do that in a long time.”
“But you still did,” I said, voice resolute even as I struggled to hold his gaze.
His eyes shut, and he shook his head, a laugh croaking from him. “I-I can’t even describe how badly I wish I could take that back. Take back everything I’ve done; how much I regret everything I did to hurt you.”
My body stiff with shock, and the urge to hear more, I waited. Waited and tried to keep from holding my breath as my heart roared with fury.
“I’m sorry.” His hand cupped my face, thumb soft on my cheek. “So fucking sorry. Nothing I say will justify what I did. Nothing. But I …”
“Callum,” I started, my throat constricting. I needed to get out. Out of his hold. Out of the apartment that taunted me with what-ifs. Out of the sorrow that shined back at me from his eyes.
“No. I loved you, I still love you. I never stopped.” As his voice broke, his next words ended on a whisper. “Loving you was killing me, and I just wanted to stop.”
“I can’t do this,” I rasped. “Let me go, please.”
His voice deepened, hardened. “You’re scared. You don’t trust me, and I don’t blame you, but you can try. You just need to start by talking, letting me back in.”
I shoved his hand down, anger overtaking the hurt pricking at my chest. “That’s the thing, Callum, I don’t fucking want to. You’re clean, and you have food. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I managed to push back the tears until I was back inside Pippa’s place, my bedroom door locked, and the music turned up as loud as it’d go.
Regret slid over my bones, my hand shaking as I ran it continuously through my hair and stared at the TV until I passed out in the early hours of the morning.
The look in her eyes was all fear, but that fear was there for a reason.
She didn’t want to talk about us, yet she didn’t quite know how to leave me alone, as much as she tried to show otherwise.
Not to sound like a cocky shit, but well, who was I kidding? I was, but I also knew Renee. My perception of her had been tampered with after what she’d done with Mike, but it was my own misgivings that made me believe the worst.
When you grow up with people who mask lies beneath cash and veneered smiles, it was easy to think the worst. Easy to become a cynical, entitled dick.
When we started college, I’d dumped her in tumultuous waters, expecting her to make it ashore while I concentrated on my own survival. Too focused on what I wanted, needed, and had to do, I’d just expected her to be there, existing in the background.
Renee couldn’t survive in the background. She didn’t need to be front and center, but she needed her fair share of time in the limelight, and rightfully so.
Our undoing was my fault.
The afternoon sun bloomed bright rays across the wooden floor, the flecks of dust and miscellaneous specks reminding me that I should really hire another cleaner.
My leg bounced, my arm twinging with a relentless pain that I’d probably be able to ignore with painkillers. Sitting around idle and stewing on my own mistakes and desires wouldn’t do me an ounce of good.
Half an hour later, I switched off the vacuum cleaner to untangle the cord in time to hear the buzzer. I let Renee up, my eyes taking their time to travel over her long orange jean clad legs and fluffy gray sweater with a white bow in the center as she stepped out of the elevator.
I smirked when my eyes reached her face and found her cheeks tinged pink as she scowled at me, her mermaid hair flowing around her face in soft waves and draping over those voluptuous tits.
“Stare your fill?”
Smirk still in place, I bit my lip. “Turn around so I can see the view from behind, then I should be good for a few minutes. And you have keys, remember.”
Tugging her purse from her shoulder, she ignored me, her sweet scent invading my nostrils as she walked past. She stopped right outside the kitchen, her white Chucks squeaking on the floor. “You’re vacuuming?”
Twisting my lips at the shock in her voice, I closed the doors before moving in behind her. Gently, I gathered her hair aside to hover my lips over the bare skin between her neck and shoulder. “Does that really shock you so much, Mouse?”
Goose bumps pebbled at my voice, at my breath hitting her skin. She stepped away. “Yes, it really does.”
I glared at her back, watching as she surveyed the living area. “Not only have you never done it before, but are you forgetting you broke your arm not even four days ago?”
“How hard can it be?” That was a lie. Doing a lot of things one-handed was hard. Especially using the monstrosity that sat before Renee on the floor, cord in tangles and the head turned upside down.
Renee sighed, unraveling the cord.
“Hey, you’ve never done it either.”
She gave me a look that said I didn’t know shit, switching it on and finishing the job much better than I would’ve been able to.
I could watch her ass in those jeans as she moved around the apartment for hours, but I knew I should probably do something a little more productive and got started on fixing us some smoothies.
“Strawberries and banana for the lady,” I said, sliding Renee’s tumbler over the counter after she’d put the vacuum away.
She narrowed her eyes at it, then me, moving her hair away from her flushed face as she took a seat on a stool. “Thanks.”
I shoved the blender into the sink and rinsed it. I’d figure out how to clean it later.
If Renee was surprised that I took a seat next to her with my own drink, she didn’t show it. A tiny moan left her as she swiped at her lower lip, setting the half empty glass down. “Good God, that’s good.”
I hid my smug smile by taking a lengthy drink, watching her stare at the stainless-steel fridge as she finished her own. “You’re quiet.”
“I’m …” She shook her head. “Never mind. You have a follow-up appointment before Christmas break. Don’t forget.”
“I won’t,” I said, scratching at the stubble on my chin.
The noise dragged Renee’s attention to me, finally. “Wanna watch a movie?” I blurted, her brows rose, and I hurried to add, “Your pick.”
Her tongue peeked outside her mouth, pushing at the corner of those full, pert lips. My cock stiffened. “Okay.”
“Seriously?” I asked five minutes later when Renee selected something called The Notebook.
“You said my pick.” She kicked off her Chucks and settled on the other end of the couch with a cushion in her lap as she crossed her legs.
I scrubbed a hand over my eyes, then quickly quit my grumbling. I was just glad she was here, so if I had to suffer through some love story, I’d do it and try not to fall asleep.
For a while, I tried to surreptitiously watch her as she watched the movie. The way her arms clenched around the pillow during a scene that had her sighing, the way her eyes gleamed with tears, and the way they dried and shined
when she smiled at the TV.
“Did you know that when you get emotional, your eyes lighten to a bottle green?”
It was as if she’d forgotten I was there, her head snapping back to look at me as her lips slowly parted.
Grinning at her, I turned my attention back to the movie and felt her staring at me for a weighted few seconds before she did the same.
At the end, Renee laughed at my expression, which I guessed I hadn’t done a good enough job of blanking. “You sap,” she said, tossing the pillow at me.
I caught it, clearing my throat. “Whatever.” She stood, and I conceded, “It was all right, I guess.”
She scoffed, about to slip her feet into her Chucks. “It was epic.”
“As epic as Sailor Moon?”
She paused, turning to me with a tilt of her head. “I refuse to choose between them, and you can’t make me.”
I raised my hands in supplication. “Okay.” Chewing on my lip, I asked, “I think we can find some episodes, wanna watch?”
“Sailor Moon?” She grinned.
I nodded.
“I knew you liked it,” she said. I wasn’t a big fan, but I kept my mouth shut. Anything to get her to stay a while longer. “But I should go.”
“You don’t have any more finals until Thursday, so you can stay.”
Renee guffawed. “So sure of yourself, and how do you know that?”
I wasn’t about to tell her that I’d sent Daisy a text, asking that she find out via Pippa. “I have my ways. Sit, I’ll order in.”
She hesitated for half a minute, then slumped back on the couch. “One episode.”
Three episodes and two containers of Chinese takeout later, Renee was half asleep, her head drifting dangerously close to my shoulder.
“What are we going to do?” she asked with a yawn.
“About?” My feet swung side to side where they were perched on the table, my uninjured arm behind her head, resting atop the couch cushions.
“You know, the wedding.”
Oh. “I don’t know.”
Renee hummed, pulling at a loose thread on the cushion. “Do they know you’ve hurt yourself?”
“I haven’t spoken with my parents much since Thanksgiving, so no.” Blowing out a breath, I laughed dryly. “I’m certain that if I told Dad, he’d make it clear how dangerous the sport is, using it as a tool to sway me.”
Renee reached out, plucking a piece of lint from my pajama pants. Her hand there and gone. Touch there and gone. I wanted it back. “I’m guessing interning for him hasn’t changed your mind.”
My chest rose as I puffed out a laugh. “The fuck of it is that if he’d quit doing that, he might not even need to sway me. Being in his office over Thanksgiving, meeting with some members of his team as we discussed the Beijing office—it was interesting. The responsibility, the power, and the never-ending clock ticking above their heads as they ran from each day to the next was kind of … alluring.”
Renee turned her head, our faces close enough that I could lean forward and snatch her lips with mine. “Alluring,” she murmured. “I like that word.”
“Mouse,” I whispered. “Do you know that when you look at me, my heart still acts like I’ve just finished a ten-mile run?” Her lashes bobbed as her gaze roamed over my face. Courage funneling through me, I admitted, “I’ve done this all wrong. I know that. The truth is, I don’t know how to make you forgive me when I honestly don’t know if I’ll ever forgive myself.”
Her eyes shone with unshed tears, and I was cursing every god that ever existed that my left arm was out of action and I couldn’t use it to touch her.
As if she knew that, Renee blinked, smiling gently before she sat back and got up. “You should call your parents. As much as it doesn’t seem like it sometimes, they do care.”
I sat forward as she started for the door. “And you? Do you still care?”
I didn’t think she’d answer, and so I sank back into the couch when her voice, barely above a whisper, floated to my ears before the door shut behind her. “You already know the answer to that.”
“Yes, Mom.” I shut my textbook, placing it on top of the stack beside my bed. “I know but too much brown would drown out the ivory and cream.”
My mother made a clicking sound with her tongue, then sighed. “You’re absolutely right. Okay, leave it to me.”
She hung up before I could even say goodbye, leaving me to stare at my phone in a stupor. It was easier to carry on with her plans, even if I still somehow had to find a way out of this wedding.
My mom and Lucinda didn’t care that it wasn’t until next August. They were two buzzing bees with a purpose that made me feel kind of bad about the fact I’d be ruining their plans.
At least, that was what I kept telling myself.
Still staring at my phone, another text came through. He seemed to go from one extreme to the other. Sweet words followed by playful innuendos.
Callum: Renee, Renee, come over to play.
With a smile tempting my lips, I tossed my phone down. Keeping it casual thanks to studying most of the night, I shrugged on a long black cardigan over my leggings and long yellow T-shirt that had the letter R embroidered on it by yours truly.
I opted for my Chucks again, hoping like hell that Callum had coffee as we were out and I didn’t feel like making a public appearance at the Bean Stream. That would require more effort with my ensemble, and I didn’t have the energy today.
Being on campus had been interesting, to say the least. For the most part, the team had kept pretty quiet about the discovery of our marriage, but it was bound to leak eventually. And judging by the few double glances on the way to my last final, it’d begun.
I went to hit the buzzer, as per usual, when I paused and instead, fished the set of keys out of my purse that Callum had given me months ago. The same ones I pretended didn’t exist while carting them to and from different purses and bags since I’d moved into Pippa’s place.
Looking at my messy bun, tired eyes, and slouched posture in the mirror of the elevator, I was starting to wonder if I was the reason I was exhausted.
“Mini Mouse,” Callum drawled, his voice raspy as if he’d just woken up. “You used your keys.”
I set them down on the counter with my purse, lifting a brow at the mess he’d made of his breakfast. Cereal was scattered over the countertop, milk puddles around his bowl. “Something wrong with your right hand?”
He grimaced as he looked at the mess. “No, but I was …” I waited, and he sighed. “In pain.”
I scowled, marching over to the medicine basket I’d put on top of the microwave and inspecting the packets. He’d hardly touched any of them. “I’ve taken some, okay? I’m fine now.”
I set the basket down. “Callum, why haven’t you been on top of it?” It clicked then. “You’re worried?”
Running his finger through some milk on the granite counter, he licked it from his finger. “So what if I am?” He got up, taking his bowl around to the sink, and I realized his shirt was on backward. Jesus.
“You’ve been going to class and everything in pain?”
He turned on the water, rinsing the bowl. “I’ve only had a few. My last exam is tomorrow.”
Tomorrow was the business finals, which I only knew due to Pippa taking them. Callum was pre-law, or had been, unless that’d changed. “You’ve changed to business?”
“I was doing both,” he admitted. “But yes, I’ve changed it to my major.”
Wow. His dad had given him two options, and I was surprised he’d followed them both without much protest. Though after yesterday’s conversation, maybe I shouldn’t have been. Now that he’d taken a closer look, he sounded genuinely intrigued by what our fathers did for a living.
“Okay. Still, if you’re in that much pain, take some damn meds.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He winked, closing the dishwasher after putting his bowl and our glasses from yesterday afternoon in.
I grabbed
a cloth, cleaning up the milk and cereal from the counter as Callum left the kitchen.
I turned off the tap after washing my hands, then patted them dry on a dish towel.
When he didn’t return, I looked around for something else to do, something that would explain away my presence here when really, he seemed to be doing okay.
I found him in the study, fishing through some comics on the shelf. “Holy shit,” I breathed, running my fingers gently across the spines. “When did you do this?”
Rows upon rows of them lined the shelves, and when I turned, I saw the books I’d left here in boxes in the closet now sitting along the bottom shelf. I hadn’t brought many, just my favorite classics and romance reads, as well as some of my favorite issues of Vogue and other various design magazines.
“You like it?”
The dark wooden shelves lined the length of the wall. “It’s … amazing,” I said beneath a breath. I stumbled back a step when my eyes skirted the walls, landing on one of the limited-edition comics I’d gifted him for the past two Christmases.
“You’ve …” I sniffed, eyes smarting as I smiled at the bright, slightly worn cover in a frame mounted to the wall. “You’ve finally accepted my present.”
Callum tucked his hand into the pocket of his jeans, a pained sigh leaving him. “Something I should’ve done ages ago.”
We stood in silence, staring at the framed comic book, hardly breathing. Then his fingers brushed mine. I allowed it, and even let him rope his pinky finger around mine.
It was unbearably easy to make someone your enemy, to brush them off and discard them as if they’d never meant a thing to you. But what it would’ve cost him to fire that kind of hatred toward me again, even if I’d deserved it, I didn’t know.
Because standing beside him, I just couldn’t imagine taking one step into the future without him. Without forgiving him.
A truth I felt utterly defeated by.
“Did you know that when you frown, your upper lip moves to the side, just a fraction?”
His decadent voice slithered inside my chest, my heart thrashing like a caged beast.