Final Offer: Chapter 3

I slide the curtain back into place with a shaky hand as Cal’s taillights disappear down the driveway. Whatever semblance of control I had over my emotions breaks, reality punching me in the face with a set of brass knuckles.

Cal is back.

I want to cry. I want to yell. I want to send him running all the way back to Chicago.

Everything about seeing him again hurts. Like someone pulverized my heart until it is unrecognizable.

I hate how he still makes my chest ache from a simple smile, almost as much as I hate the way I wanted to pull him into my arms and beg him to never leave again.

Have you learned nothing after the last time?

I cut myself a little slack. Cal turned my life upside down again, and my mind is still trying to catch up. To ease the sick feeling building in my stomach that hasn’t gone away since he showed up at my doorstep, I swallow a few lungfuls of air.

He was never supposed to come back. The last time I saw him, he promised me as much.

Are you really surprised? Since when is he a man of his word?

I thought he would respect me and our past enough to honor his vow.

You were a fool.

No. I was desperate enough to believe him, even when he was in the middle of breaking my heart.

“Cal?”

He ignores me as he continues throwing clothes into the open suitcase on top of his bed.

I step inside his room and shut the door behind me. “Where are you going?”

He doesn’t so much as acknowledge me.

“What’s wrong?” I place my hand on his shoulder and give it a squeeze.

He tenses, choking the shirt caught within his clenched fist. “Not now, Alana.”

Alana? Since when does he call me by my full name?

I walk around him and drop onto the bed. “Why are you packing?”

“I’m leaving.” His voice comes out flat.

My brows tug together. “Did something come up in Chicago?”

“No.”

Something about the tension in his body and the way he avoids eye contact has my heart racing in my chest. “Okay…” I tuck my legs underneath me. “How long are you going to be gone for?”

He pauses his erratic packing. “I’m not coming back.”

My laugh quickly fades at the pinched expression on his face.

I rise onto my knees so we can be eye level with each other. “What’s going on? Did something happen at dinner with your grandpa?”

His fist tightens around a shirt. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“You can’t do what anymore?”

His gaze slides from his suitcase to my face. “Us.”

My chest feels like a lightning bolt split it in half. “What?” The broken whisper barely makes it past my lips.

God. It’s the same speech my dad gave my mom the day he abandoned our family. Except instead of watching my father pack his bags, it’s Cal.

I shake my head.

No. Cal isn’t your father. He would never abandon you like that, especially after he promised to love you forever.

“We should have never gotten together,” he says softly.

My eyes burn as if I kept them open while submerged in salt water. “What did you just say?”

“You and I… It was stupid of me to think we would be a good match.”

I suck in a breath. He grabs a bottle of vodka off the nightstand and chugs until the clear liquid dribbles down his chin. My stomach churns at his drinking, but I ignore the acid crawling up my throat.

He is suffering, I rationalize.

This is only temporary while he copes with the end of his career, I repeat the excuse for the millionth time this summer.

I cradle his head between my hands, ignoring the way they tremble against his cheeks. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do.”

My fingers press into the sides of his face. “Just talk to me and tell me what’s happening.”

His red eyes dart away. “I don’t have anything else to say.”

“I thought you were…happy.”

“No, Alana. I was high.” His upper lip curls.

I rear back. “What?”

That’s not possible. Cal knows how I feel about drugs. I’ve had the same negative stance on them ever since my sister overdosed the first time.

“How else do you think I made it through this miserable summer recovering from my injury while my team was out celebrating their big championship?”

Miserable summer?

I ignore the sharp pain reverberating through my body, knowing he can’t possibly mean that after everything we have shared together. “You seemed okay whenever I asked about it.”

“Because I took enough Oxy to make me feel that way.”

I take a deep breath. “Okay. Well, now that I know, I can make sure you get help. You’re not the first person to struggle with an opioid addiction after an injury.” My voice remains light despite the heaviness weighing me down.

“I don’t want help.” He pulls away before pressing the vodka bottle against his lips and drinking some more.

I snatch it away from him. “You’re better than this.”

The muscle in his jaw ticks. “Am I? Or are you too blinded by your love to see the real me?”

My vision blurs. “I’m not blind.” Hopeful, sure, but not oblivious to the issues happening here. I just thought we could work on one problem at a time, starting with his depression.

“Please don’t make this harder than it needs to be, Alana.”

The hole in my chest widens at his use of my full name, the single letter adding distance between us. “No. Don’t Alana me. I’m not going to give up because you’re afraid. We can get through this together.”

He shakes his head. “You’re not understanding me. This is over.”

“What is over?”

“Us.”

I lift my trembling chin. “No.”

He releases a heavy breath. “What we did this summer…all of it was a mistake. A huge one I made because I was too drunk and high to know better.”

The crack in my heart widens until I’m afraid it might break in half. “You don’t mean that.” My voice quakes.

“I do.” He zips up his suitcase and places it on the wood floor, leaving a few pieces of clothing scattered across his bed.

“I refuse to believe that.” I jump off the bed and step between him and the door.

“Ignoring the truth won’t make it any less real.”

“Then say the truth! Stop with this bullshit about us being a mistake! I know how you feel about me. About us.”

He might have been high for some of it, but I know he meant all the things he confessed. The future he painted of our lives together. The promises he made to me about his love. The wishes he had about us and the family he wanted to have one day.

His eyes shut. “I wish I had never come back here. It was selfish of me when you’re the last person I ever wanted to hurt,” he whispers as he clutches onto the handle of his luggage.

“You told me you wouldn’t ever leave me.” He promised. It’s the only reason I let him shatter our friendship with a single kiss. Because I was just as invested in our future as a couple as he seemed to be.

He looks up at me with cloudy eyes. “I’m sorry.”

The fight leaves me along with any hope of him staying. “You want to leave?”

Say no.

He nods. This time, the throbbing sensation in my chest is numbed by something far stronger.

Anger.

My hands curl into fists. “Fine. Then don’t ever bother coming back.” I’m not sure what would happen to me if he did, so I would rather not find out.

His jaw ticks again. “Is that what you want?”

“Yes.” The twinge in my chest doesn’t agree.

“Anything for you.” He sighs.

“Swear it,” I state in a flat voice despite the way my vision blurs from unshed tears.

“I promise not to come back here.” He rolls his luggage toward the door. His hand hesitates around the knob before he looks back. “I’m sorry for hurting you. I wish I was different. Stronger. Sober.”

I wrap my arms around myself and turn away, hiding the tears streaming down my cheeks. With one last sigh, Cal shuts the door to his room, leaving me alone to crumble. I pull my legs up against my chest and cry until my eyes swell and my head feels like it might explode.

I’m not sure how long I stay in his bedroom, crying myself hoarse, all while wishing for Cal to come back and claim that this all was some sick joke.

Brady Kane comes into the room with furrowed white brows. “Where did Cal go?”

I look up at him with tear-stained cheeks. “He left.”

The wrinkled skin around his blue eyes softens as he takes me in. “Oh, Alana.” He pulls me into his arms. “I’m so sorry. I thought something like this might happen.”

“How?”

His lips press together.

More tears leak from my eyes. “Why wasn’t I good enough?” For my dad. For Antonella. For Cal. It always feels as if I’m fighting everyone to stay when all they want to do is leave.

He rubs my back. “This has nothing to do with you.”

“Doesn’t it? If Cal loved me, he would have stayed. He would have fought for us.”

“He can’t even fight for himself right now, let alone you.”

I shake my head. “I didn’t want him to go.”

“Anyone who has spent time around you two would know that.”

The ache in my chest intensifies. “But I made him promise to never come back.”

His hand moves in small, soothing circles. “Is that what you want?”

I sob against Brady’s chest. “Yes? No? I don’t know.”

“Things will be okay. I’ll make sure of it.”

Except here I am, six years later and still feeling everything but okay.

Things are different now. You’re not the same broken-hearted girl anymore.

Aren’t I, though? Because all it takes is one interaction with Cal for me to remember everything I spent the last six years trying to forget.

The curve of his lips as he flashes me a smile.

The tug in my chest that always draws me back to him despite all the years of hurt.

The warmth that spreads through my body whenever he cracks a joke, threatening to melt the ice wrapped around my heart.

A part of you still loves him.

I bolt from the couch and escape to my bedroom, although the unwelcome thought follows after me like a dark, threatening storm cloud.

Just because you love him doesn’t mean you’re in love with him, the reasonable voice speaks up.

Truth is, a part of me will always love Cal. It’s impossible not to with over two decades of shared history, but I will never be in love with him—at least not again. I made that mistake once and I lost my heart in the process.

But unlike the last time Cal showed up at Lake Wisteria, this time is different.

I’m different.

And nothing he says or does will change that.