Page 111 of Love You Madly

Karissa:

You think you’re slick, don’t you? I know about your little girlfriend. Saw the picture. You got her pregnant too, didn’t you?

My heart skips a beat, and I feel a cold knot form in my stomach. What the hell is she talking about? I pick up thephone again, and as I reread the message, realization starts to dawn. She must have seen that photo—the one from last night when I was with my cousins. Vicki took a beautiful black-and-white shot of Callie, and while her belly isn’t completely visible, anyone looking closely could probably guess.

But how did Karissa even see that? And why the hell is she trying to stir up trouble now?

The unease lingers, gnawing at the edges of my thoughts, refusing to be ignored. I try to focus on the cleaning again, but my hands are shaking, my mind spinning with a thousand what-ifs. After thirty minutes of trying to distract myself, my phone buzzes again. Another message.

This time, it’s not from Karissa. It’s from Josh, her friend—the one I went fishing with. The one who was there that night on the camping trip with us.

Josh:

You’re a piece of shit, Owen. You know that? A garbage human for not taking responsibility. You think you can just walk away? Pretend it never happened? Grow the fuck up.

The words hit me like a punch to the gut, but anger quickly follows, hot and sharp. I shouldn’t be surprised. Karissa’s always been good at playing the victim, at twisting the truth to make herself look like the innocent one. But this? This is a new low, even for her.

I don’t hesitate before firing back a response, my fingers flying across the screen.

Me:

Josh, you were there that night. You know damn well what happened. Karissa was trashed, and nothing happened between us. Nothing. The only way I’d be a trash human is if I had actually slept with her when she was too drunk to give consent. But I didn’t. So don’t let her drag you into her bullshit.

I hit send, my heart pounding in my chest. I’m not proud of the way my hands are shaking, of the way my mind is racing with all the worst-case scenarios. But I know I’m right. I know what happened that night—or rather, what didn’t happen. And I’m not going to let Karissa rewrite history just to fit her twisted narrative.

The phone stays silent after that, and I’m left standing in the middle of my kitchen, my thoughts a tangled mess of anger, frustration, and a creeping sense of dread. I rake a hand over my short, buzzed hair, trying to steady myself, trying to remember that I’ve got bigger things to focus on.

Callie. The concert. Tonight.

I’ve been looking forward to this, to the chance to just be with her, to lose ourselves in the music and forget about everything else, if only for a few hours. Especially after last night. And I’m not going to let Karissa or anyone else take that away from me.

But even as I try to push it out of my mind, the weight of it lingers, heavy and suffocating. I know I need to tell Sabrina about all of this—about Callie, about Karissa’s latest stunt—but I’ve been putting it off, not wanting to ruin her vacation with more drama from my end. She’s down in Gulf Shores with Alex and Barrett, and the last thing I want is to disrupt their peace with my problems.

But now? Now I’m starting to think I should have just gotten it over with. Because if there’s one thing I’ve learned about Karissa, it’s that she doesn’t let things go. And the longer I wait, the worse this could get.

I glance at the clock, realizing I’ve still got a few hours before I need to pick up Callie. The apartment feels too quiet, too oppressive, like the walls are closing in around me. I need to get out, clear my head before the weight of it all crushes me.

Grabbing my keys, I head out the door, the morning light blinding after the dimness of the apartment. The cool breeze hits my face, and I take a deep breath, trying to shake off the tension that’s settled in my chest. I start walking to my truck, letting the rhythm of my steps and the fresh air help me reset.

Tonight is about Callie. It’s about us, about everything we’re building together. And no matter what Karissa or anyone else throws at me, I’m not going to let it destroy what we have. I can’t wait to see her, to feel her hand in mine, to lose ourselves in the music and the night.

I just got her. She’s finally mine. And I’m not letting someone who is probably trying to chase a better child support paycheck fuck that up for me.

I take another deep breath and get into my truck, determined to focus on what matters, to hold on to the good things that are waiting for me. Tonight is going to be a good night. And I’m going to make damn sure of it.

forty-nine

IT'S NOT YOU - HALESTORM

CALLIE - JULY 27, 2013

Thanks to Taylor taking Sara for the weekend, I’ve been able to catch up on cleaning and even have all the laundry washed, dried, folded,andput away. I can’t remember the last time that happened and it won’t last long so I’ll cherish it for the next day or so.

I’ve just finished getting ready for the concert and I am so excited. I’ve seen Halestorm in concert once before a couple of years ago and it was incredible. I went with my cousin and two of her friends. We had a blast except for getting lost on the way home.

I check myself one last time in the mirror, smoothing a hand over my black maternity tank top and adjusting my ponytail. My red Converse feel like the perfect touch—only lightly worn and showing off the signatures from the last time I attended a Halestorm concert. I think this is the first time I’ve worn them in two years because I’ve been too afraid thesignatures would come off. Permanent marker is only so dependable, you know?

As I step out onto the front porch, the sticky evening air wraps around me and I’m grateful that I was smart enough to put my hair up in a ponytail instead of attempting to wear it down on this hot summer day. My naturally wavy hair would be a frizzy mess if I hadn’t put it up. It feels like only a matter of seconds before I catch my reflection in the large picture window out front and see the baby hairs that frame my face and nape of my neck have already started to curl.