Page 63 of Unforgivable

“Good grief, you're starting in on the guilt early,” I griped. “I'm sorry I haven't called. It's been a little crazy lately.”

“Hmm, well we all have our excuses, don't we?” she teased, eliciting an eye-roll from me. “Why don't you tell me exactly what's been keeping you so crazy busy? Have you found yourself a nice young man for me to grill and send runnin' yet?”

I let out a snort at the thought of Gran probing Cal with questions trying to rattle him, and to be fair, it'd probably be pretty effective. Gran was sweet, but intimidating when she wanted to be, like Betty White with claws. Just like every day that week, the thought of Cal made me want to curl into myself and cry out my remaining tears.

I missed him. More than I ever thought was possible.

“Not really,” I mumbled. “No one worth mentioning.”

“Horse hockey,” Gran scoffed, always able to tell when I was holding something back or lying. “Rhys Evans, don't you lie to me. I can tell when something's up with you. Now who is he?”

I groaned out loud, knowing that she wouldn't let up unless I came clean. She was like a dog with a bone when she wanted something. I launched into all the details of meeting Cal, the bullying, the texting, the attempt we made at a friendship, the showdown at the boathouse, and the letters this week, all culminating in the phone call I made to his coach yesterday that still had me spiraling. I even gave her the PG version of the more…sordid events of our time together. The woman took me to get put on PrEP when I was with Connor, so there was no shame between us.

“Wow…alright then. That is a heckuva Thanksgiving tale you got there,” Gran said sardonically. “I suppose now you're wonderin' if you're doing the right thing cuttin' him out of your life and givin' up on him.”

A disbelieving laugh bubbled out of me. “What do you mean, if I'm doing the right thing? He hurt me, Gran. He was no better than those bullies who used to make me feel worthless and went out of their way to tear me down. What does that say about me if I just roll over and forgive him for all the terrible stuff he said and did to me?” I asked, my exasperation evident.

“Well, correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't remember those horrid little monsters in school workin' to earn your forgiveness. To my knowledge, they never tried to get to know you, or bring you coffee, or opened up to you about the most tragic parts of their lives hopin' that you'd understand them better. And they certainly didn't take responsibility for their actions and offer themselves up for punishment. So tell me how it'd make you weak to show him mercy and forgiveness when he clearly is tryin' to prove to you he was wrong and wants to do better,” Gran said earnestly.

“But…” I started, tears cutting me off fast. “But how am I supposed to trust him after all that? What if I forgive him and he breaks me all over again?”

Gran made a contemplative noise over the line, not saying anything for a few moments. “I don't want to sugarcoat it, honey, but that's a possibility. That's a risk any of us takes when lettin' someone into our lives, especially someone we trust to love us. We're all human and we make mistakes every single day, but very few people actually feel remorse enough to right their wrongs. I only know what you've told me, but this Callum boy sounds like he's doing what he can to make it all right for you. Seems to me like he thinks you're worth the effort, and I have to agree.”

I choked back the sob that worked its way up my throat, not able to accept the chance that she was right about him. I was so dang scared that I'd be wrong about him again and I wasn't sure I'd survive it another time.

“Look, sweetpea,” Gran continued, “everyone will always have opinions and advice on what you should do. They'll tell you what you should say, what your limits should be, and more. But at the end of the day, you are the one who has to live with the consequences of your choices. Not them. Don't be afraid to do what you feel is right because ultimately only you will be affected by your decision. It doesn't matterwhat me or other people tell you to do or feel about this boy. All that matters is whatyouwant to do and what you can live with. You understand what I'm sayin'?”

I nodded before realizing that she couldn't see me on the phone. “Yes ma'am, I get it,” I muttered gruffly.

“Good. Now, I've gotta go put on my face and get dressed before Joann picks me up. Whatever you decide to do, I'll support you, Rhys. I love you, sweetpea,” Gran replied warmly.

“I love you too, Gran,” I sniffled. “I'll call you later.”

We hung up and I contemplated all the advice she had given me about Cal. I worked hard to build myself back up after years of being torn down, stomped on, and victimized. It was a point of pride with me to never again let someone get under my skin enough to break me. When Cal began his subversive torture, I thought I was prepared for anything he threw at me. I was going to show him that he couldn't get to me.

I still wasn't sure if I was strong enough to move past what he did and trust him to be better, but it didn't feel right to cut him out. If nothing else, his coach's disclosure had earned him a chance for me to hear him out. I pulled up his contact and unblocked it before I could change my mind.

Me

Can we talk tomorrow?

Two seconds later, his reply lit up my screen. It made my heart sputter to think he'd had his phone on him all week, just waiting for me to reach out. That was ridiculous of course, but an idiot could dream, right?

Miscreant

Of course. Want me to call?

Me

Can I come over instead?

Miscreant

Absolutely. Whatever time works for you.

Me

Ok. See you around 10am.

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