Page 62 of Unforgivable

I don't know if I told you thank you enough for helping me the night of my mom's birthday. It meant so much when you shared yours and your dad's favorite movie with me, so I wanted to return the favor.

My mom was obsessed with Ever After and we must have watched it a million times when I was a kid. It wasn't exactly my bag, but mom loved it so much I couldn't say no to her. Somewhere along the way, it became one of my favorites too. We'd pop it in and quote almost the whole damn movie together like idiots. Sometimes I still watch it when I'm not doing too great and I'm thinking of her. I used my allowance to buy her this special edition for Christmas the year before she passed and we watched it maybe five times that week. I'm pretty sure that was the last time we saw it together. The months leading up to her death are a blur, but I don't recall us getting around to watching it again after that week in December. But that's okay. It was one of the happiest times I remember us having while she was sick.

I don't know if you've ever seen it, but I wanted to pass it on to you anyway. I hope that if you watch it, it will make you even a fraction as happy as it used to make my mom and me. Selfishly, I also like to think that if Prince Henry was able to earn Danielle's forgiveness after being a massive tool to her, there's hope for me too. So if you're ever taken hostage by a creepy ass old dude in his dingy castle, I'll gladly come to your rescue. Also I wouldn't blame you for judging me that one of my favorite films is a chick flick. I have no dignity left when it comes to you, but I wouldn't have it any other way.

I still miss you and I'm sorry,

Cal

His letter ripped through me like a tornado, leaving devastation in its path as I cradled the movie to my chest as though it were a precious gift; to me, it was. I couldn't fathom why Cal had given me his mother's copy, why he'd part with it for someone who had essentially written him off and told him to get lost.

Like a weirdo, I brought the DVD up to my nose, sniffing it like I could somehow breathe in Cal's essence and feel him with me. I pressed my lips to it, thinking about how much it meant to not only his mom, but to him. He hadn't just given me a movie, he'd given me a piece of his soul in a way. I'd seen the movie once, but I rushed to my room, fumbling with it as I shoved it in my Playstation.

I watched it with rapt attention, taking in every line and nuance from a new perspective, trying to see it through Cal's eyes. I was enamored by it all. I could see Cal as Prince Henry, climbing down the castle to escape his father's plans. He's a stubborn buttcake, so it would track. Each time Danielle sassed Henry, it made me laugh and tear up as I recalled each time I did the same to Cal. But as the two of them lounged in the gypsy camp, flirting and getting lost in each other's gazes, the dam inside me burst. It hurt so much to know that would never be us. I still wasn't able to forgive Cal for everything, but there was something I had to do. I felt it in my bones that it was the right thing to do.

I picked up my phone, scrolling through until I found the number Ineeded in my call history. I waited and waited for the call to go through, the endless ringing picking away at my patience. At last, the caller picked up.

“This is Coach Langley,” the deep voice rumbled.

“Hi Coach Langley, this is Rhys Evans,” I started, clearing my throat of the nerves rattling my voice. “I'm the one who called in the complaint against Callum Hawkins.”

“Ah, hell. What did he do now?” he asked, disappointment cutting through the line.

“No, no! He didn't do anything!” I hurried to say. “I actually wanted to retract my statement. I've had a lot of time to think and reflect on it, and I think I made the complaint in haste. I got to know Callum really well the last couple of months, and sir, I can promise you he is deserving of his scholarship. I can't stand the thought of it being taken away from him when the mistake was really mine. If there's anything you can do, please don't punish him for a huge misunderstanding!”

Coach Langley huffed out a fast breath and I was met with tense silence. “Mr. Evans, Callum already called me to claim responsibility for the original complaint. He admitted to putting hands on you that night and for coming after you with the goal of making you withdraw your report.”

My blood turned to ice, my brain overloading from the information. “W-wait, he said all that? When did he call you?” I stuttered out, waiting anxiously for his response.

“He called me Sunday morning. Told me his side of the story and then asked to be removed as captain of the team, saying he'd take any suspension or punishment I deemed fit,” the coach said matter-of-factly, but I thought I could hear a hint of pride in his voice.

“He isn't captain anymore??” I squawked. “No wait, you can't do that! It's not his fault, sir! He doesn't know what he's doing!”

“Mr. Evans,” Coach Langley cut me off, “Callum knew exactly what he was doing when he called me. While I'm madder than hell at him for what he did, I'm also proud of him for being man enough to come forward and own up to his actions. I appreciate what you're trying to do for him, but it's done. He's accepting his punishment with grace and he's lucky to still be on the team. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have somewhere to be. Are you good, son?” he asked softly.

My brain was still hazy and now throbbing from everything I just learned. “Yes sir, I'm good. I'm sorry to bother you, but thank you for telling me,” I said half-dazedly. Coach Langley thanked me for the call and hung up.

I sat there going over everything a dozen times, trying to make it make sense. Cal turned himself in? Heaskedto no longer be captain and he was willingly being punished? And if I heard his coach right, Cal had called him the morning he came to see me, maybe even before he got here. Why hadn't he told me?

The storm in my head was making me feel crazy and I couldn't separate it all to process it. I turned off my TV and crashed on my pillow, hoping that in sleep I would find the answers I desperately needed.

A shrill ringingpulled me from a troubled sleep, and I blindly felt around for my phone on the bedside table before answering.

“Hello?” I garbled, throat growly and rough.

“Happy Thanksgiving, sweetpea! Are you still in bed at this hour?” Gran's chipper voice reached me through the fog of sleep.

“N'ma'am. M'up,” I slurred, sitting up in bed and rubbing at my scratchy eyes.

“Uh huh. Well, rise and shine, honey! You can sleep when you're old and crotchety like me. Youth shouldn't be wasted in bed,” Gran lectured me. It was a song and dance I'd heard throughout my childhood, and a pang of nostalgia hit me.

“Yeah, yeah. I remember,” I rumbled, smiling to myself. “What are your plans for today? I can't wait to see you for Christmas.”

“Oh, you know me. I'mma head down to the shelter and help Joann serve Thanksgiving supper. It never gets easier, I'll tell ya. Every year, the sight of those sweet folks down on their luck just breaks my heart. I wish there was more I could do,” she lamented, her southern twang bringing me comfort as it always did. My Gran had the biggest heart of anyone I knew, and she was constantly involved in activities with her church to give back to the community. She helped serve the homeless shelter, coordinated services for victims of domestic violence, and ran the LGBTQ+ youth outreach program in our town. That oneheld special meaning for me since she created the program after I came out to her when I was twelve.

“I'm glad they have you helping out, Gran. They're blessed to have you,” I told her truthfully. Gran worked harder now after retirement doing whatever she could to help those she thought were less fortunate. She was my hero.

“Ah, horse poop. I'm just an old woman trying to help out where I can. Now, enough of that. What's goin' on with my favorite grandson? I can't remember the last time you called me and gave me an update. I should tan your hide for not fillin' in your poor, old granny,” she chortled. I swear, the woman had just turned sixty and she acted as though she could rival Methusaleh's age.What a drama queen.

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