CALLUM
Two weeks after ending it with Oaklyn, I was still drinking too much, trying to figure out if it was better or worse without her. Better for her, at least, because I couldn’t take my temperamental moods out on her.
Two weeks and I was getting more and more exhausted, the hangovers weighing me down, effecting my classes.
Each time I had to watch her sit there in class, looking beautiful, but just as tired as me, I wanted to run to her and make it all better. But I wasn’t in a place I could. If I thought I was a mess when we’d ended, I was a god damn catastrophe now.
Breathe in for five, out for five. Repeat.
Five more times and I felt somewhat ready to exit my car and head to class.
All that control came to a screeching halt when I looked up through my windshield and saw Oaklyn with Jackson.
He’d pulled to the curb and she got out, looking tired, but still conjuring a real smile for him. He went around to the sidewalk and pulled her into his arms. She went willingly, holding him to her, too. I squeezed the leather around my steering wheel, listening to leather creak under the pressure as I watched him lean down and press his lips to the top her head.
He stepped back still holding her hand until he walked too far away their fingers slipped from one another’s. Were they a couple? Had she moved on and let him comfort her?
Bile swirled in my stomach, threatening to burn its way up my throat.
How could she be with him? So soon? After she’d told me she didn’t want anyone else? Were they together?
I imagined seeing her in class. Wondering how I’d focus.
How would I be able to look at her and not lose my shit in front of everyone? Demand that she give me an explanation.
I couldn’t. I couldn’t do it.
Starting my car, I punched in the number for the office letting them know I wasn’t going to make it in today. I didn’t have to pretend to sound sick, I was broken and nothing about me was hiding that.
Back at home, I slammed the door to my house, tossing my bag to the floor as soon as I entered, and marched over to the mini-bar. Not bothering with a glass, I unscrewed the top of my bourbon and started drinking.
The morning sun shone into my dark home, turning the framed picture across from me into a mirror. My foggy reflection stared back at me. I pulled my lips from the bottle and really looked at myself.
A twenty-nine-year-old man drinking straight from the bottle before nine in the morning.
A twenty-nine-year-old man who gave up the woman he loved because he had no discipline over his emotions.
A twenty-nine-year-old man letting the past rule him rather than taking control. And not the false control I had before. Real control. Control that stayed even when things went wrong.
How long was I going to let this ruin me, make my decisions for me?
Yes, I trusted Oaklyn enough to get close to her, to make love to her, but I could push myself to be with others—learn
to trust them. I could choose what I could and couldn’t do.
I hadn’t done enough to get there on my own, and I’d laid all my intimacy at her feet like I’d be alone forever without her. While I didn’t want anyone other than her, it didn’t mean she was the end all, be all to my future.
I couldn’t keep doing this.
I couldn’t keep letting other’s actions rule me.
Swallowing the last swig of bourbon, I walked to the kitchen and began dumping the rest of it down the sink.
Watching the brown liquor swirl down the drain was cathartic. It felt like the first step in the right direction.
Step two had me running up the stairs two at a time to reach my bedroom. I burst into my room and quickly stuffed some clothes and toiletries in a carry-on. Done with that, I pulled up my phone and made the arrangements.
Then I called an Uber because I was drunk at ten in the morning and the admission was another punch in the gut, letting me know I was making the right decision.
By the afternoon, I looked out another window, watching a different scenery roll by. One I hadn’t expected to see ever again.
The car parked outside the large home and I grabbed my bag and strolled up the sidewalk. Lifting my hand to knock, I paused. Once that door was opened, I couldn’t go back. She’d force me to stay as long as she could. There would be no running or escaping.
I took a deep breath and knocked.
The door flung open and she stood there with wide eyes.
“Hey, Mom.”
“Oh, my god. Cal.” Her hand flew up to her mouth and her face crumpled as she began to cry. I stepped in and pulled her into my arms.
“Mom,” I laughed. “This isn’t the welcome a boy wants from his mom.”
“I just—I can’t believe you’re here. You’re home.”
She pulled back and had to stand on her toes, but she kissed my cheeks over and over again until I pushed her away. “Stop. I just saw you a couple of months ago.”
She wiped at her eyes. “Well, come on in. Your father will be happy to see you.”
She kept looking back over her shoulder like I’d disappear. It wasn’t like seeing me was a huge deal, it was the fact that I was home. California had always been their home—our home—but I had left as soon as I could, and I knew it hurt them that I hadn’t come back. My parents loved me and had wanted to spend the holidays with family but had accommodated me and my fears.
They knew I related California to my past. So, for me to stand there, despite what had happened, meant a lot.
“Look who the cat dragged in,” my mom announced.
My dad looked up from his chair in the living room where he was reading the paper and did a double take.
“Cal,” he said in wonder. Then he tossed the paper aside and came to wrap me in his arms. “Welcome home, Son.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
My mom sniffed from the side but shook it off. “Well, let’s not just stand here blubbering. What can I get you to drink?”
“Just a water, Mom.”
I was determined to not let my anxiety control me. So, water from there on out until I got my shit together and finally faced some demons.
Mom came back and sat on the couch, just smiling at me.
Thankfully, they had moved after everything had happened. The nightmares had been too intense to stay.
While being in California was hard enough, I never wanted to test my strength of being in my old room.
“You know I’m so happy to have you here, but why now?
I can’t help but feel like something’s brought you here,” my mom said.
I took a long drink of my water trying to ease my dry throat. “I, uh—I met someone.”
Her face lit up like she could already see the grandbabies in her mind.
“Calm down, Mom.” My hand rubbed at a knot of tension at the back of my neck. “It’s complicated, to put it lightly.”
“Complicated, shmomplicated,” she said, waving her hand. “If you love her, you make it work.”
“Which is why I’m here. We uh—” I took a deep breath, trying to figure out where to start. What did I confess first?
“She’s young. It made me very aware of the issues I was laying at her feet. I hated that I was putting that on her when she had her own things to deal with.”
“Oh, baby. You are not your past.” She’d said it to me as many times as she could squeeze in.
“I’m trying to realize that. That’s why I’m here. We broke up and I kind of spun off the handles.”
“I thought you looked a little worse for wear.”
“Charles!” My mom gasped, slapping my dad’s leg.
He just shrugged at her. “The boy looks like he hasn’t slept in months.”
“Thanks, Dad. It’s actually only been a couple weeks.”
“So, explain the complicated,” my dad said, knowing it was a bigger issue than I was telling them.
“She’s young.”
“Legal?” he asked, eyebrow raised. My parents were understanding, but not that understanding.
“God, Dad. Yes.” I breathed out a laugh. “But just starting her life.” My parents sat there, giving me time to think, knowing there was more. I thought about what I wanted to say without giving anything away. “I’m possessive of her—jealous in a way I’ve never felt before, and when my jealousy sparks, I lose my mind. There’s no rational thought. There’s no reasoning. I lose myself in my mind and my issues and I lose my temper. I’d lose it on her.
Say things. Mean things and I hated it.” It hurt even more to say out loud. “She’s too young to take on my issues.”
“Callum,” my mom said, admonishing me. “A woman can make her own decisions. A woman can walk away when she needs to.”
“But what would I have to do for her to make that decision? How far would I fall?” My mom frowned and reached across the space to grip my hand. Just her holding my hand comforted me. “That’s why I’m here. I can’t keep letting my past rule me. I can’t keep hiding and hoping that ignoring it will make it better. I’m tired of it, Mom.”
She swiped at a tear that managed to escape. I knew she still held so much guilt over what had happened, and I didn’t want my inability to let go keep holding everyone else back. I needed to face it. Deal with it.
“I was hoping Dr. Edgemore would be able to see me this week,” I said, referencing the therapist I saw before I left California.
“I’ll make sure he does,” my dad confirmed.
“How long are you staying?”
“Two weeks. I have a week of vacation saved up and then next week is Spring Break.”
“Two whole weeks.” My mom clapped her hands in excitement. “I can’t wait. Plenty of time for you to tell me about this girl.”
I smiled, just thinking about Oaklyn. “She’s great.
Beautiful, smart, determined, funny. She’s so much of everything, I can’t even narrow down the adjectives.”
“She sounds lovely. I can’t wait to meet her. Maybe we can visit and all go out to dinner.”
At that, I looked away wincing. I’d run out of time on keeping the biggest complication a secret.
“What? Are you embarrassed by us?” my mom asked, joking.
“No. We uh—we can’t exactly date.”
She cocked an eyebrow and stared, trying to consider all the reasons. “Is she married?”
“No. Jesus, Mom.”
“Well, what is it?”
My heart raced in my chest making me light headed.
“Um, she’s uh—my student.”
Her eyes shot wide, and she gasped, “Callum Pierce.”
“I know. I know, Mom. I didn’t mean for it to happen. I didn’t know, and I fought it. God did I fight it, but she’s just so much. And with her, for the first time ever, I saw a future. I saw her with me in a future and I couldn’t fight it anymore.”
Her shocked look softened to sympathy, and I knew it would be okay. She understood, and at the root of it all, if it was legal and consensual, my parents wanted me safe and happy.
“It’s not like you weren’t my intern when we first met,”
my dad muttered to my mom. “We had to keep our . . .
Activities secret too.”
She blushed, and I cringed. “Ew, Dad.”
He leaned over and kissed my mom on the cheek.
That was the love I wanted—the future I wanted.
There was no way I was getting to it in the state I was in right now. If I ever wanted my dream of Oaklyn and I working out later, I needed to be a better man.
Remembering her in Jackson’s arms, my shoulders slumped, and I wondered if I was too late.
But it didn’t matter. I’d fight for her if I had to.
First, it was time to face everything and be a better man.
I was ready.
