Page 57 of Raise The Bar
“It has everything to do with him.” I walk away from her, needing to put some distance between us. I’m feeling too much too quickly. Memories I buried long ago are bubbling to the surface. The threats, the broken dishes, the hateful glances. It’s too much. I need space to calm myself down and she’s not giving it to me. “I’m sorry, Mom.” I don’t look at her. “The heat is just getting to me. Go back inside, I’ll be in soon. I just need a few minutes.”
“Don’t do that,” she begs, closing in on me. “Don’t pretend you’re fine when you’re not. You’re allowed to have feelings.”
“Since when?” A bitter laugh escapes my chest. My mind races and my eyes sting. “From the moment you brought him home, my job was to smile and act happy. I tried so hard to make him like me. Spent ten years of my childhood trying to appease a man who fucking hated me, to make things easier for you. Because you were my entire world and I didn’t want you to be hurt anymore than you already had been. Do you know how relieved I was when you pulled me out of school to tell me? How much better I slept after he was dead?”
Tears fall freely down my mother’s face and her voice breaks. “I thought maybe…I had hoped…you always carried it so well…”
“Just because I carried it well doesn’t mean it wasn’t really fucking heavy. I was a kid, Mom. I was just a kid. And he was fucking horrible.” My vision blurs, but it isn’t until I taste my own salty tears that I realize I’m crying. I’m vaguely aware of my mother coming to my side and when she puts her arms around me, I let her. I can’t remember the last time my mother held me like this, but then I can’t remember the last time I allowed myself to be upset in front of her. We stand in the parking lot, holding onto one another and crying for what feels like ages.
Finally, we’re all cried out. She gets tissues from her purse and we wipe our blotchy faces. I still feel awful, but the vise constricting my chest has loosened considerably. “I’m so sorry, Mom.”
“No, baby,” her voice wobbles as she reaches up to hold my face in her hands. “I’m sorry. So much was put on you and it wasn’t fair. You didn’t deserve any of it.”
“Neither did you.” I squeeze her hands. I still can’t meet her eyes. I just can’t. “Why don’t you head back inside. I’ll be right behind you.”
She looks at me for a long moment. “Okay, sweetheart. Take as much time as you need. But we will talk more about this later.”
I nod and watch her turn and go back inside. I feel gutted and empty. You would think exorcizing years of repressed trauma would make me feel better, lighter, but all I feel is hollow. Alone.
I take my phone out of my pocket and dial the only person I want to talk to.
“Hi.” It amazes me how one syllable from one person can make me feel so much. Maggie’s voice is quiet, making her feel far away. I’m just relieved that she answered.
“Hi,” I answer weakly.
“Are you okay?” She senses something is wrong, because of course she does. That’s who she is.
“Yeah, of course.” I clear my throat. “Just a long couple of days and not enough sleep. I’m sorry I didn’t reach out before now. That was shitty of me.”
“Yeah, it was,” she laughs a little. “But I’m still glad you called. I have something I want to say.”
I swallow thickly. “Okay.” I hear her take a deep breath.
“The other night was incredible for me. I had no idea it could be like that, I didn’t know that happened outside of my filthy little romance novels. I don’t want it to be a one time thing. And it’s not just the sex,” she’s talking faster now, trying to get her words out before she stops herself. “I’m happiest when I’m with you. And I need you to know that I love…I love being with you. I feel like you like being with me too. And I know that that’s not what you were necessarily looking for. But I guess I just want to ask if maybe you’ve changed your mind? Because I don’t want to pretend like it didn’t happen. I don’t want to go back to the way things were. I want to be with you, Callum.”
I feel like I’m watching everything unfold from outside my body. Like I’m looking down at myself, watching my own reaction to the most incredible woman I’ve ever known asking me to be with her. The person who breathed color back into the scenery of my life when everything around me was just different shades of gray. She wants to be with me.
And I know I don’t deserve her.
“Callum?”
“Maggie,” I’m barely able to force her name past my unworthy lips. “I can’t.”
Silence is followed by her sharp inhale.
“Right. Okay. I understand. It’s fine.” I can hear her voice breaking through her hurried speech. “I have to go now.”
“Magg–” I’m cut off by the call ended tone.
Chapter 32
Maggie
“You look puffier than usual.”
April’s observation might be insensitive, but it’s also accurate. I have cried an excessive amount of tears in the last few days. I cried until my sinuses ached and my throat was raw. I cried until tiny blood vessels burst in my eyes and no amount of cooling Korean face masks could reduce the swelling in my face. I didn’t even know the human body was capable of producing so many tears.
“Allergies,” I mumble, pretending to look through racks of wedding dresses as we wait for June to come out of the dressing room. We’ve gathered this afternoon for her final dress fitting. After crying myself to sleep over Callum’s rejection, I would have much rather stayed in bed all day.
