Page 44 of The Promise

My phone rings as usual on the couch next to me, like it does everyday, several times, as Kyle tries desperately to reach me. The pink blanket I'm snuggled under is damp with tears, the ones that sneak out of my eyes when I let my guard down and forget that I'm trying to be strong. Maybe I don’t want to be fucking strong, maybe I just want to cry my heart out until it stops beating and I can no longer feel the agonising pain of being without the man that makes me happy. I stare at the phone as it rings, his name alone stabbing a hole through my chest, as it has done for the past week. But I don’t answer and after a few minutes, it rings again.

Callie sighs from the kitchen counter where she sits on a barstool, tapping on her laptop. “Just answer it Mol, he misses you.”

Sean stands behind her, pouring a thick, gloopy looking protein smoothie into a glass and when I catch Callie’s eye, my throat closes up. The moisture leaks silently from my overused tear ducts and I scrunch my eyes tight. I’m trying desperately to halt the tears in their tracks, but it doesn’t work.

“I can’t,” I croak, my voice cracking, the sobs breaking through the prison I tried to put them in. My best friend’s arms are around me before I even see her move across the room. Her warmth and comforting, fruity smell permeate my mind for a moment and create a wash of peace when she hugs me.

Callie scrapes the messy braid over my shoulder and says quietly, “Why don’t you just admit that you love him?”

“I don't know if I do,” I sniffle, chest tightening at my lie. I know I love that man, more than I thought I was capable of loving someone. But I don't want to love him, because loving him means handing myself over…and I'm scared.

Callie scoffs, an eye roll accompanying it. “Bullshit, how often do you think about him?”

I look up at her through my wet lashes, catching Sean leaning back against the kitchen island, watching me as I swallow hard, trying to force the tears down that are bubbling in my throat.

“Every second of the day,” I cry, as the pipe bursts behind my eyes. I almost immediately soak Callie’s shoulder when I sink my face into it, sobbing and gripping her hoodie in my fists.

She tucks a loose wave behind my ear, whispering softly, “Exactly, so stop being stubborn and call him. He loves you Mol, he’s trying so hard to get you back.”

I sniff, smudging mascara across my tear stricken cheekbones. “But I just, *sniff sniff* I don’t know.”

Callie’s hands land on either side of my face, forcing my eyes to meet her’s. “Trust me on this one. Being with Sean was the best thing I ever did and I'm happier than I ever thought I could be.”

“Yeah, you were a grumpy shit before you met him.” I sniffle, suppressing the smirk that’s tugging at my lips. It’s the first time I’ve felt like smiling in a week.

I hear Sean snicker from the kitchen and his face pulls up into the usual arrogant grin that he wears. Callie peers over her shoulder at him, throwing a warning glare his way, making him grin even wider under her fire. After a beat Callie turns back to me, a finger in my face. “Hey, I'm being extra nice to you right now because I know you’re delicate. But I am pregnant and hormonal, so I won’t hesitate to slap you if it comes to it.” I smile, hauling her into me, her growing stomach stopping me from totally smushing her with my love and gratitude. “I love you Cal,” I whisper and she tightens her arms around me, her dark curls tickling my nose. “I love you too,” she leans out of the hug, emerald eyes narrowing at me. “Just promise me you’ll think about calling Kyle.”

I nod, blinking away the tears at the sound of his name and lying back down on the sofa. The pink blanket comes over my head and I let it suffocate me in the heavy feelings that are constantly trying to crush me.

“Callie for the love of god, give it to me!” I shriek, tackling my now very pregnant best friend onto the living room carpet and straddling her hips to pin her down.

She wriggles under me, face pulled into a stubborn scowl. “No, not until you stop being a fucking pain in my ass.”

I don’t think that’s ever going to happen.

The sound of the front door of our dorm clicking open, momentarily makes me loosen my grip on Callie’s forearms and she attempts to slither out from under me like a lizard. But I'm too fast for her, and as Sean’s confused expression comes around the front door, I whip back around and fasten Callie’s arms back to the ground on either side of her head. The outline of my phone is evident in her leggings, the shape of it staring back at me from between her thighs, where she has lodged it for safe keeping. When she came home today after shopping with Anais, she found me cross legged on my bed, just staring at my phone screen as Kyle called me. He has called me everyday for the last 9 days, and yes, I am counting. The longer I go without seeing him, the harder it gets. They say time heals all wounds, but I don’t think the massive gaping hole in my heart is ever going to close without him. If anything, it’s getting bigger and more painful by the day. Callie proceeded to lecture me again about how I should just give up the fight and talk to him, let him in and tell him how I really feel. But when I refused — like I have done for over a week now — she grabbed my phone from the bed and ran across the dorm with it, me on her tail trying to snatch it back. Even though she's almost 7 months pregnant, she still moves like a whippet, ducking behind the couch and shoving my phone down her fucking leggings so I couldn’t get it. I told her I’ll fish that thing out if I have to, but she scared me with some random threat about how her pregnancy has made it like a swimming pool down there. I was immediately disgusted, which is obviously exactly what she intended. I didn’t know what else to do, but pin her to the ground and threaten to put my hand down her trousers to get my phone back. She said I can have it if I agree to call Kyle, but if the bitch thinks she can give me an ultimatum like that, then she doesn’t know me at all.

I dip my face closer to Callie’s. “Give me my phone back, or I’ll go in there. Seriously, I will go in there, I don’t care.”

“I’m not giving it back, until you stop being stubborn.”

Sean clears his throat and we both crane our necks to look at him. He folds his arms over his chest, crossing one leg over the other as he leans back against the kitchen counter.

“Don’t mind me,” he grins cockily, “carry on.”

“Sean, help me,” Callie wiggles under my weight, plastering on a fake frown at her boyfriend, who only shakes his head back at her. “Sorry baby, no can do. I don’t know what’s going on here, but I'm enjoying it way too much.”

Callie lets her head drop back to the carpet with a scoff. “Pig.” I twist my neck to look at Sean, eyes pleading. “Sean, she has my phone down her leggings and she won’t give it back.”

“Not until you agree to call Kyle back.” Callie hisses, her eyebrows pulled into an annoyed frown as she continues to struggle against my grip on her arms.

“Woah, ladies,” Sean pushes off the countertop and approaches the two of us. “I can solve this problem pretty easily, Mol get off her.” I clamber off my best friend and Sean kneels down beside her, sinking a hand under the waistband of her trousers and retrieving my phone.

He pulls Callie to her feet whilst she huffs, “Traitor,” and pulls her own ringing phone from her hoodie pocket, pressing it to her ear with an eye roll. “Yes Lois, I'm still pregnant and no, nothing has developed since I last talked to you…” she checks her invisible watch, “twenty minutes ago.” She rounds the corner to her bedroom, throwing Sean and I another eye roll and disappearing from view.

I duck around Sean's huge frame and head for the fridge, eyes scanning the inside for Callie’s lifetime supply of Pepsi. I need to just curl up under my duvet and guzzle a few cans of it back, before I have to leave for training in an hour. We have the regional qualifications coming up in less than a week and my heartbeat thumps uncontrollably every time I think about it. I’m not ready, far from it and the distraction of craving Kyle 24/7, is only serving to make me more fucking sloppy on the track. Mike has been getting pretty frustrated with me to say the least. Especially when I show up to training on two hours of sleep and looking like I’ve been punched in both eyes by Floyd Mayweather. The grey circles darken more each day that I don’t see or speak to Kyle. Maybe Callie is right and I should just stop fighting this, maybe I should give up and let him have me like he wants. Maybe I should let him take all the pieces of me and just live with the fear that he’ll abandon me, like everyone else does when they eventually get bored. I’ve never wanted more than sex with any man before, but for some reason, when I think about Kyle, sex doesn’t even enter my mind. Considering I've been without any sort of physical attention for almost two weeks now, you’d think I’d be horny as hell. Usually I would be, but the aching gap in my chest won’t allow me to feel anything else. Any time I smile, or laugh at something Callie says, my body reminds me that I shouldn’t be happy right now. I don’t deserve to be happy when I’ve broken Kyle’s heart and left him wondering why I don’t give a shit about him. If only he knew how much I love him, how desperate I am to have him wrapped around me, how desperate I am to kiss him and nuzzle my face into his cinnamon laced smell. Jesus, I fucking miss him, I don’t know how much strength I have left to keep myself away from him.

Maybe I should call him, just to give him some closure, to tell him this is done and we both need to try to move on. I don’t want to move on and I know he doesn’t either, but maybe if I say it out loud, it will magically become true. I think I might be losing my god damn mind without him. So when my phone rings, for the fourth time today and I'm alone in my bedroom, having just shoved both feet into my running shoes, I take a deep, jagged breath and accept his call, for the first time in nine days.

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