Page 21 of The Intimacy of Finding You

I’d run before. I was capable of doing it again, though I didn’t really want to. I just didn’t want to face it all. Face the life I’d built for myself, with nothing but pain and alcohol and bruises and lies and lies and lies and…

I tilted the bottle back, letting the burn coat my throat and chest from the inside out. If only I could be number than I had been earlier. That was the goal, right? To be so numb that nothing mattered anymore?

Maybe then I’d stop feeling their hands all over me. Thompson. Mason. Stephen. Tyler. Their touch was still heavy on my skin all this time later. When would I feel lighter again? Would I ever? If I drank enough, maybe I’d float away.

Like a feather.

Like the pure, innocent, white chicken feathers I’d find on the ground at home when I was a kid. I’d pick them up and face them toward the sun, staring at the way they moved in the wind, even when I held them up. When I’d let them go, they’d float away. Fly away. Soar away.

I wanted to be light again. I’d never be innocent. I’d never be pure. But I so desperately wanted to get rid of the heaviness in my chest, in my bones, sitting directly on top of me and pushing me further into the ground. An early grave, just like Thompson had deserved.

Closing my eyes, I leaned back against the brick wall behind me. The stones cut through my shirt, scraping against my skin. I let it happen, barely even feeling it from all the alcohol coursing through my veins. I welcomed it because it was easier than focusing on the phantoms and ghosts of a past I wished I couldn’t remember.

Only a few more sips, and maybe I wouldn’t.

Would Callum hate me? Callum, Callum, Callum… The name felt unfamiliar in my thoughts and on my tongue. It tasted bitter, like hope.

Did Callum hate who I’d turned into? The image he used to have of me was gone. A mirage of a person who used to be, rather than who was. A husk where everything bad had overtaken the good and left me a heavy, empty shell of pure nothing.

The whiskey was doing its job. A false sense of peace had washed over me, making it far easier to relax against the wall and let my hand drop the bottle. It tumbled out of my palm so easily, I barely noticed it at first.

How many more stars would I have to wish on?

chapter twelve

Jack was placating me. I knew that. He knew that. Everyone in the entire universe knew that, but he was being a good friend and not voicing it. We’d gone to most of the bars on this side of the city and even checked outside a few places where AA meetings were regularly held. We’d checked the subway and a few other spots that appeared to have decent shelter.

There was no sign of Tobi so far, and it made me feel like shit. Complete and utter shit because here I was, wasting precious time Jack wouldn’t be able to get back in this lifetime. All because I had a baseless hope that maybe Tobi would be sitting at one of the corners we came across.

Jack sighed as he turned down the road, heading toward Fire and Ice. “I don’t know, Cal. We’ve been at this for a while, and we haven’t seen a single sign of him. None of my bar buddies have seen him, either.”

I knew what he wasn’t saying. I could hear it in the undertones. He didn’t think this was worth our time anymore, even if Tobi was worth everything to me. “I know. I’m sorry.” My eyes were glued to the window, searching for even a glimpse of a hint that Tobi existed around here somewhere. “Let’s just go down here, and then we can turn around. I have a meeting in the morning anyway. I need to get home and in bed at a decent time.”

The sun had started to set, making Jack break out his signature car sunglasses. “What’s the meeting about this time?”

“I think Crew and Price are really considering the idea of opening another location. I think it’s in their best interest, but we’ll see. They didn’t give us an agenda.”

“Do they know anything about what’s going on with Tobi?”

“Fuck no.” I blew out a long, deep breath as we got closer to the restaurant. Once this street ended, so would our search for the night. I didn’t want us to reach the end. I didn’t want to be done searching. “I’m not telling them shit until I have more to tell. I don’t know if I could handle the look on Crew’s face.”

Jack slowed as we got to the stop sign at the end of the street. He took in a deep breath and pushed the turn signal to the right. “Well. Let’s get you home for the night, okay? We can’t canvass the entirety of Crescent Planes in one night, unfortunately.”

He was right. I hated that he was right. I didn’t want him to be right. What I wanted was to find the last piece of a life I’d imagined a thousand futures for, only to leave it all in the past before it ever began.

But Jack was right.

So I didn’t say anything else as I pressed my face against the window, still searching, still looking for any sign I could latch onto. I didn’t so much as blink, even as tears found their way down my cheeks. I refused to sniffle. I refused to show just how broken I felt. As the world got darker on our way back to my house, I stared at my reflection and couldn’t help but wonder.

I wondered about the futures I’d made up in my mind. Each one had a ring on my finger and a nice, big house to come home to. We’d order takeout because we’d been cooking all day and couldn’t stomach the idea of doing it again at home. We’d sit on our big L-shaped couch and watch the same movie from our first official date and simply exist in each other’s presence. Maybe he’d even be okay with me wrapping my arm around him and pulling him into my side for a short cuddle session.

Chinese. We’d get the shittiest Chinese takeout from down the street. The kind that made our breath smell and hands swell from how much salt was in it. We’d eat and laugh and cuddle and brush our teeth before we shared a goodnight kiss, and everything in the world would be okay.

Would I have looked different than I do now? Would we have Fishbowl in our laps and a Swiffer mop by the door for when he got too excited and peed?

Who would I have been as Callum Weaver instead of Callum Stanton? I wondered if I’d ever get to find out.

I was so fucking late for the meeting. Crew was definitely going to kill me, and if he didn’t, Price would do it for him. We were supposed to be there at the ass-crack of dawn, but I’d gotten so little sleep during the night that I’d slept through my first two alarms and just barely woken up from my third one.