Shit, I really am evolving with the help of Dr. Miranda.
Lying on my childhood bed is weird, considering I spent most of my time up here with other people. Not that I was ever at my house growing up. I was either at Taya or Amelie’s, and then constantly at Callum’s house when we started dating. Comparatively, my home is boring and bland when put up against any of their homely, comfortable houses.
A noise like a tap sounds from outside and I ignore it, knowing how windy it is tonight. But then it comes again. And again.
I sit straight up, rolling my eyes that the first thing I think is that someone might be throwing rocks at my window. Could I be any more delusional? This isn’t some Disney movie or nineteen eighties John Cusack movie—
I completely cut myself off though, when I go to the window and there is Callum, standing on the ground outside my house, holding a bunch of rocks.
Hiking the window up and shivering in my long-sleeve pajama set, I whisper-hiss, “What the hell are you doing?”
“Trying to get your attention.” His deep voice makes everything beneath the surface begin to vibrate.
Even in the dark, the man is freaking beautiful. I hate him for it.
“This isn’t the stone ages, we have freaking cell phones, you idiot.” I have to bite back the goofy smile that threatens because this is really romantic.
“And you would have answered my call or text? Yeah, right,” he jokes, knowing me too well. “Can you come down?”
I bite my lip, debating. I meant what I said the other night about not wanting him to come around if he wasn’t sure. But here he is, standing in the cold on Thanksgiving, throwing rocks at my window. For a girl who has already been in love with this boy for years, it’s kind of hard to fight the instinct to run into his arms right now.
Which is why I act nonchalant, shrug, and say, “Fine.”
I grab a sweatshirt, not one of his, and throw it on before descending my stairs and going out onto the front porch. Mom won’t care if I bring Callum inside, but I don’t feel like having her overhear this conversation so we’re safest outside, even if it’s freezing.
“Hey.” His Roman nose is red under the dim bulb of the porch, and he shoves his hands in the pockets of his olive coat.
“Hi.” I shuffle my feet over to the two beige Adirondack chairs Mom has on the front porch.
The streetlamps on our street wink at me through the tree branches that sway in the windy night air, and aside from more cars than usual filling the street because of the holiday, nothing about Webton has changed.
“Remember when we used to sit out here in the summer?” Callum asks as he takes a seat next to me.
“Back when my mom wouldn’t let you out of her sight.” I chuckle, remembering the only reason she cared about my dating life was concern over me being impregnated.
“I didn’t mind it. Meant I got to pick your brain, know everything about you. That was even before we kissed.”
“And now? You’re here to what? Know what’s on my brain?” I’m defensive and I can’t help it.
Callum shakes his head, dark locks falling over his forehead. “No, I’m here to tell you what’s on mine. You were right, and I know you fucking love to hear that. But you were. I was just as much to blame for our breakup, and I heaped all the responsibility on you. Then I never got over you, tried to gallivant another girl in front of you, and went from hot to cold so fast I’m surprised you don’t have whiplash. So I stayed away. Until tonight, when my eyes were completely opened. I was selfish. I’m an asshole. I did want to hurt you, because we were both absolutely gutting each other by the end there.”
I’m crying both from his confession and what sounds like an apology. There is so much unspoken hurt between us that we need to get it all out now, and so I start, too.
“You told me I was the most beautiful person you’d ever seen, but that I was making my insides ugly. That killed me, Callum.” I sniffle, because it was one of the most hurtful things he ever said to me.
“We both said things in the heat of the moment that should never have been uttered. There were days you wouldn’t come home or refuse to let me in your room. There were weekends I’d go visit friends at other colleges because I knew it would make you jealous.”
“And when you finally ended it, I felt like I was dying. Like someone had pulled the ground out from under me and I’d rather just be buried under it than live without you.”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I should have stuck it out, tried to communicate better. I should have held your hand or dragged you to therapy or just … something.”
“No. No, you shouldn’t have.” My voice is quiet. “If we had done that, we would have broken each other. Irrevocably, to the point where we could never be sitting here contemplating being together again. As much as it feels like I’ve had a knife sticking out of my heart for the last two years, it finally made me confront what I’ve always been running from.”
“Talk to me. Tell me.” He folds his hands in front of him, never wavering as he makes direct eye contact.
I’m not sure how this morphed into a conversation about my father and therapy, but I need to lay it all out on the table.
“My father didn’t just abandon me, Cal. He told me, the last time I saw him, that I was a mistake and he wishes I never breathed a breath of air.”
“I’ll fucking kill him.” Callum jumps to his feet and clenches his fists as if my father might be hiding in the bushes outside my house, ready for a fight.
I won’t go all strong, independent female and say my heart doesn’t swoon for his chivalry. It’s something I’ve always loved best about Callum, his need and want to protect. Probably because I never had that from my own father.
I put a hand on his elbow and speak in soothing tones. “It took me a very long time to accept that what he thinks of me, the way he treated me … it doesn’t need to rule my life. I don’t have to be perfect, or follow a plan or script, because he’s never coming back to see it. To see me. I was trying for so long to make you fit every kind of role I needed, and when my hairpin trigger was pulled, I’d lash out. You’d take the long way home when bringing dinner back to the house, and I’d assume you were cheating. You would get out of bed a second too early in the morning, and I thought you would leave me just like he did. I held on so tight to you, smothered you, because of my own insecurities and fears.”
“And the tighter you held, the more defensive I became, until I cared about me more than I did about figuring out why you were acting that way.”
It’s like a lightbulb goes off, the way Callum’s face lights up.
“You told me a week ago that you were still in love with me, but you couldn’t keep doing this. You couldn’t stand the back and forth, and I’m guilty. One hundred percent. But if you are willing to trust me one more time, I promise you, I will never walk away again. I will love you until the day I die. Hell, I’ll do that even if you reject me. Because you’re my soul mate, baby. I will never abandon you, I’m forever grateful you were put on this earth because you were meant for me. I was meant to love you. So I’m in, all in. No more going back. Will you love me? Will you be with me? Will you work on this?”