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ChapterFifteen
Callum
No doubt about it, I was a fucking idiot. A bully with an agenda. I should’ve known better than to push Alina to listen to me, for the forgiveness I desperately sought to receive, particularly when hurting her more was at risk. It was selfish, and I was wrong to hope for anything from her.
Her mother had beenraped, and she was the result of it. Hearing those words almost broke me as I sat beside her, listening to the affirmation I never thought I would hear as the truth in this lifetime.
I’d heard the kids at school sharing rumors after her mother had been taken into custody by the police, but I couldn’t fathom an inkling of truth in the words. Not Miss Simpson, as colorful-minded and out there as she was, a rape victim and murderer of the same man was hard to believe. Revenge made little sense, not after so much time had passed, so I had chosen to ignore it.
Alina let me lead her to the house. Our hands remained connected as we descended the hill. Even in the pouring rain, neither of us would rush. She had grasped the pages of her mother’s letter in her other hand as if it were her only lifeline.
I walked her into the living room, guiding her to the sofa, where she curled up into herself before I crouched down to set and light the fire.
The sound of the fire crackling soon filled the room, but we remained silent, not having spoken a word since we were outside.
I wanted to go to her, wrap my arms around her, protect the fragility those pages provoked, and comfort her. The possibility of her rejection held me on the spot. My feet felt too heavy to move toward her, as if the closer I got, the heavier they could become, crumbling the ground between us, creating a bigger void from where I was to where she sat.
Only when I cleared my throat did she look up, her expression clearing as if just realizing I hadn’t left. “Callum, why are you still here?” She tilted her head slightly at me.
“I…” Her question was unexpected, and I felt like a fool trying to find the words to explain it to her as I trailed off. “No need to worry. I was just leaving.” I walked toward the door, focused on getting out of the room.
“No.” She sat up, gracefully eyeing me before crossing her legs in front of her on the cushion. “Why are you stillhere?I thought if anyone would get out of Beddington, it would’ve been you.”
“I was meant to.”
Our tones were hushed, barely above a whisper, as if anything louder would stir the ghosts from the past.
“I guess life just happened.” I shrugged. It was the simplest explanation I had to offer.
When I realized Alina had left, it felt like the air had been trapped in my lungs. I was content being stranded here in case she came back and hoped the wave of regret would ease. But even now, she was back, and I still felt like I was wading in remorse.
I’d gone to her door wanting to apologize with the truth and beg her to leave with me, but she hadn’t answered. How could it feel like a lifetime ago yet still seem like it had only been yesterday?
There were so many words trying to form sentences still in my head, apologies and confessions, yet none of the words seemed to fit quite right. Not in the way I needed them to so I could explain to Alina how I felt about her.
The look in her eyes still tortured me, like after you witnessed a car accident and the scene replaying on repeat in your head every time you closed your eyes. That was how her expression had haunted me since I’d lied to her.
* * *
I was weak, I knew it, and that was why I was back at her door. I couldn’t let her believe I didn’t love her or think there was no one here who cared about her. Something needed to change.
Alina still needed my protection, and if that meant I needed to take her away instead of sending her away, I was ready.
Sliding my backpack higher over my shoulder, I knocked on her door with hope sparking in my chest while straining to hear any movement from inside.
I knocked again, only to be greeted by deafening silence.
Panic took over my body as I knocked again before trying the door handle. Fidgeting with the unlocked door handle, I pushed inside. Calling for Alina, I searched every room. Every possible hiding spot we’d discovered in the house until I finally accepted she couldn’t possibly be anywhere.
Defeated, I sank down on her bed and dropped my head into my hands, silently begging for her to come back.
* * *
For hours, I’d waited in her bedroom, grasping at the tiny glimmer that maybe she’d been visiting with her mother and would be back at any moment.
Only after night had fallen, and she hadn’t returned, did it dawn on me that she’d really gone, and it was my doing.
In the end, it hadn’t been the relentless badmouthing or hateful words the people in our town spewed that had caused her the most pain. Instead, it had been my holding her away from me, lying to her face, that had caused her to run.
