Page 58 of Unforgivable

Without it, he knew it was highly probable that he'd be thrust back into his aunt's world and the images that conjured churned my stomach. God, I really screwed up not taking that complaint back when I still could. I couldn't even remember now why it was so important to me before. In the face of what I knew about Callum, that one mistake of his didn't warrant the distress he was obviously suffering.

No wonder he hated me again. But no matter the context for it, I couldn't condone his behavior tonight and I couldn't forget his vitriol. Everything he said in that boat house had ripped at old wounds and no doubt created new ones. I didn't think I'd ever forgive him, but I also wouldn't forgive myself for hurting him in return.

Sometimes people are so broken, they don't know how to hold onto something good. They don't believe they can have good things in their life, so they push them away before they have a chance to lose them. It's hard to convince someone they deserve happiness if life has done nothing but show them it never lasts. It wasn't my job to make Cal believe that, no matter how much I wished he would.

I felt more deeply for Cal than I was ever prepared for, but he'd had enough power over me since the beginning and at some point, I needed to take that power back. He had succeeded in breaking me more than I thought was possible, but I promised myself years ago to never let someone break me again, to be strong enough to heal myself.

I needed to keep that promise and stitch myself back together, starting tomorrow. Tonight, I was going to let myself fall apart and sink into the heartbreak that came from falling for Callum Hawkins.

16

CALLUM

Noises from downstairs drew me out of my restless sleep. Normally when I got trashed, I'd pass out and be dead to the world until my body decided to rejoin the living, but I hadn't drunk enough to shove me over my hangover line. Whereas some might find that a good thing, I would have given anything to wake with only a fuzzy recollection of the night's events.

Unfortunately, I remembered every minute of it. God, I was such a shithead last night. I'd been seething and stewing all week since the catastrophic confrontation at Jack and Blair's house, and by the time the party rolled around, I had been a beat away from exploding. All of my anger had been funneled towards Rhys for being the catalyst of it all, but I knew better. Since high school, I rarely let my anger get the best of me. It was like a breathing thing that I had caged, hearing it rattle and fight against its restraints with every provocation, but I had prided myself on always remaining in control of it. Harnessing it and using it to my advantage on the field or even in life.

I didn't fully understand why, but Rhys held the key to that cage and consistently unleashed what was inside, making me lose my precious control anytime he was near. At first, it had been easy to redirect it and torment him when I didn't care, but now? I cared too much. It was an irritatingly ironic twist considering what I'd said to him last night.

When he was near, it was difficult to think straight, to even breathe right sometimes. Every other thought was of him. Rhys held me with invisible chains, anchoring me to him even in his absence. I felt him everywhere when he was nowhere. He was a specter that followed me, and I loathed how much I liked it.

He fascinated me and drew me in, but I had to admit I was also intimidated by his strength. Rhys may not look it on the outside, but he was this steady, unwavering force that didn't back down when scared or had his back against a wall. He didn't cower, he fought. He didn't hide, he stood his ground. It was one of the reasons his submission was so intoxicating to me.

When I went after him, he lashed back and didn't take my shit easily, but when I pushed just the right buttons, he fell apart more beautifully than I could've imagined. There was something addictive about being the one to break through his resistance and have him melt at my touch, even if he hated it. Rhys was unapologetic about who he was, forged from years of being torn down by others only to rebuild himself. He never outright told me, but I could see the scars he tried to hide. He was more stunning for them and I had been lucky I ever got close enough to know him.

And I fucking ruined it.

I ruin everything.

Regret hit me hard, sour and harsh. A voice in my head had been nagging at me that none of what happened was truly his fault, yet every time I felt a pang of guilt last night, my aunt's voice resurfaced and reignited my rage. I had been so consumed with bitterness that it was easier to fall back on old habits, pushing every fucked up emotion I was feeling onto him. I kept telling myself he deserved it, that he'd gotten too close and caused too much carnage in my life.

So why do I feel sick to my stomach at the thought that I probably pushed him away for good?

I lurched off the bed, scrambling to reach the ensuite bathroom before the evidence of my fuck-ups made an appearance. I barely made it to the toilet, the force of it wracking my body painfully and bringing tears to my eyes. Images of that dark closet and echoes of Blair screaming at me were interlaced with thoughts of Rhys. He was the light burning away the darkness of my memories.

I dragged myself off the floor to clean up. I caught sight of myselfin the mirror and I couldn't stop the white hot fury from racing up my spine, only this time it was directed at the right person.Me.

I balled my fists, the need to hit and fight and destroy coursing through my blood. The violent urge pulled me up short and I heaved in a calming breath. I had to get a lid on my fucking temper again before I caused even more damage than I already had with my careless actions.

I heard my phone chime in the room and I instinctively knew who it was. He'd already texted several times since I left his house on Wednesday and I had ignored every one of them. I hadn't been in a stable frame of mind to see what he had to say, but maybe that was a mistake. I had driven myself crazy worrying about my future at UT and Lacrosse, and ignoring the one person who could help me keep it all was…well, fucking stupid. I swiped to unlock my phone and pulled up Uncle Jack's messages, reading through them all.

Uncle Jack

I know you don't want to hear from me, but I'm working on a solution now.

It's going to be okay, I promise.

I have good news. Please call me back.

Callum, I'm so sorry for everything, but please give me a chance.

I'll leave you alone after today, but I wanted to show you this. Your tuition is secure and you don't have to worry. I told you I'd do anything for you, Callum. I hope one day I can earn your trust back. I love you, son. Always.

Attached was a screenshot of a UT webpage that had my tuition listed for the next year and a half. Underneath in bright, red letters were the words “Paid In Full.”

Tears sprang to my eyes and my chest pinched uncomfortably. For all Jack had screwed up with us, he had actually managed to help me. If I had only been goddamn reasonable enough to read his texts earlier, maybe I wouldn't have gone off the rails all week. I hadn't wanted to believe that he'd come through for me, that he'd make it right after I lost my scholarship, so I did what I do best: avoid, avoid, avoid.

All that had gotten me was suffocating guilt and a lost friend.

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