Why am I comparing the two?
“Let’s get back downstairs.” I turn to Paul and hold my arms out wide. “Do I look totally stupid?”
He shakes his head, eyes flicking to my arm. “Just put your sweater back on.”
Of course.
Cover up the imperfections so no one sees.
Cole is gone by the time Paul and I exit the bathroom. We head out to the backyard where more of Josie’s guests have gathered, but Cole is nowhere to be found.
“There they are.” Dan waves us over to the barbecue, sporting his Kiss the Cook apron. “One cheeseburger, medium-well for the lovely Callie Kingston, and one for the weirdo she’s married to who likes his meat still mooing on the plate.”
Paul claps him on the back. “Says the weirdo who eats dried-out hockey pucks.”
I smile as I take the paper plate. “Thanks, Dan. Can I get you another beer?”
“I’m all good. Go eat. Enjoy the party.”
Paul stays with Dan while he mans the grill, and I take the chair beside Josie at the table, steering clear of Jeff and Brenda. The kids are playing in the pool. Lucas and Serenity are passed out in a child-sized tent a few feet away from us.
Through the smoke wafting up from the grill, my eyes are drawn to the pool house. Curtains cover every window, drawn tight, blocking me from seeing in.
Or maybe they’re blocking Cole from seeing out.
What was that in the bathroom? Residual guilt for being rude, maybe. His twisted version of an olive branch after the way we met. But it felt like something more than that.
Why did Cole care to come check on me?
More importantly, why does that even affect me?
Josie nudges me with her elbow. “You okay, Cal?”
I take a bite of my cheeseburger. “Yeah, just a few stains on my dress. No big deal.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
I look into her worried eyes and offer her a smile. “I’m fine. Really.”
She lowers her voice and leans closer. “I’m not a fan of Brenda or her husband. Dan only invited them because Jeff overheard some of the guys in the office talking about the party.”
“It’s okay. Next party, I’ll just wear a name tag that says Hello, My Name is Infertile Myrtle so nobody asks me if I have any kids.”
She doesn’t laugh at my lousy joke. “Have you tried talking to Paul about adoption again?”
The ache in my gut throbs. “He refuses to entertain the conversation.”
A frown tugs at Josie’s lips. “How are things between you two lately?”
My eyes find Paul across the yard. As if he can feel me staring, his gaze meets mine, and he sends me a wink.
I used to be so enamored with him. We were madly in love, in such bliss together. I still love him now, but it’s different. Tainted. Our relationship doesn’t have the same innocence and purity it used to.
My hope and happiness are being depleted, and I don’t know how to stop the hemorrhaging.
I smile at Paul and swing my attention back to Josie. “Things are good. It was tough for a while, but we’ve decided to stop trying to get pregnant. It was putting a strain on our relationship.”
“But you want kids, Callie.”
I drop my burger back onto the plate. “Four rounds of in vitro didn’t work. Neither did surgery on the fibroids, acupuncture, supplements, or any of the other things I’ve tried. Now with Paul’s sperm motility ... maybe it’s just not meant to be. Maybe ...” I chew my lip. “Maybe I’m not meant to have children.”
The thought is a painful reality that I must face.
Josie scoffs. “You can’t be serious. You’re a better mom than I am, and you don’t even have kids yet.”
“What else do you want me to say? I’ve tried everything. I have to accept it and move on.”
“But you’re willing to adopt. That’s an option.”
“It’s not.”
“Why not?”
“Just drop it.” I look at her, my eyes pleading. “Please. Not today.”
She shakes her head but holds her tongue. “I don’t get it, Callie.”
And she never will.
She couldn’t possibly fathom what it’s like.
To accept the fact that your body is defective, even though men’s and women’s bodies are built to reproduce.
To try and try, each time getting your hopes up, only to have everything crash and burn in a pit of disappointment.
To see those two pink lines on the pregnancy test, followed by seeing a blood-filled toilet a month later.
Needles and hormones and pills.
Frustration and fighting and tears.
Again, and again, and again.
No, Josie will never understand what I’ve endured.
What I’ve put Paul through.
He’s all I’ve got now.
And that has to be enough.
Six
Cole
I need to chill the fuck out.
I pace the open room and chug another beer.
Paul doesn’t seem like a bad guy. I have no reason to buy into Josie’s accusation. And even if he is beating on Callie, that’s none of my business. It’s up to Callie to leave his piece-of-shit ass. I don’t know the girl. We’re not friends. To her, I’m just the scumbag living in the pool house.
Still, something nags me. Something yanking on the wheel every time I try to steer away from Callie Kingston. In the bathroom, she’d recited a ridiculous list of things she’s grateful to have.
Things.
Aside from her dog, nothing on that list truly matters in life. Yet it’s supposed to calm her. Help remind her of how good she has it, as if material items could ever make it worth whatever she’s going through.
And her husband’s name wasn’t on that list.
What’s more, when Paul stepped into the room, Callie’s whole demeanor changed. Her body curled inward like a scared turtle retreating into its shell. Panic flashed across her face. She looked like a teenager who got caught smoking in the bathroom at school.
None of that equates to domestic abuse. Those bruises on her arm, though ... I’d finally seen them for myself, and they definitely equate to something.
I just can’t fathom someone raising a hand to that woman—any woman. Callie radiates kindness and light, with the perfect combination of gentleness and sass. Josie loves her to death, so I know she must be a good person.
I shake my head, pulling at the ends of my hair.
Not my problem.
My front door flies open, and Josie’s head whips around until she spots me. “What the hell, Cole?”
“You just burst in here like the Kool-Aid Man. I think I should be the one asking what the hell.”
She rolls her eyes. “Why are you holed up in here by yourself?”
“Why do you care?”
“You’re my brother. Of course I care.”
“You don’t need me out there. You have plenty to keep you occupied. Always have.”
She props her hands on her hips. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. Forget it.”
A soft knock comes from the door. Callie steps inside, chin down, eyes flitting between us. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but the kids want to know where the sparklers are.”