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This is exactly what I was afraid of if he came back. It was always easy to pick back up where we left off every summer, like no time was lost between us.
But we lost more than time over the last six years since he left.
We lost out on whatever future we might have had together.
He breaks eye contact first. “Whatever. It was stupid of me to get pissed. So long as he makes you happy, that’s what matters.”
Thisis the Cal I fell in love with. The selfless man who would stop at nothing to make me happy, even if it meant sacrificing his own happiness in the process. It reminds me so much of how he was before the pills, alcohol, and lies.
Before thebetrayal.
“I’m not dating Wyatt.” My confession rushes out of me.
His brows shoot up. “What?”
“He married Delilah almost a year ago. They’re celebrating their first wedding anniversary in September.”
“Wyatt got married toDelilah?”
I cross my arms against my chest. “Yup. I guess you were too busy trying to choke him out to notice the shiny wedding band on his finger.”
“Shit. You’re right.” His cheeks flush. “But if you aren’t with Wyatt…” His voice trails off.
“If I’m not with Wyattwhat?”
He clears his throat. “Nothing.”
“You sure about that?”
He tips his chin up at me. “I’m sure. Night.”
“Good night.”
He stomps off the porch steps and disappears down the path toward the guesthouse.
What the hell was all that about?
I shut the door behind me and lean against it. My legs tremble beneath me, the weight of our conversation making me unsteady on my feet. If this is day one of Cal living here, I can’t imagine what’s to come.
I’m busy folding laundry upstairs in my bedroom when something heavy thuds above me, right where the attic is located. Cami knows better than to go up there, so that only leaves one person who could have caused such a loud noise. The same person who has spent the last three hours upstairs doing who knows what.
I haven’t seen Cal since he went up there with a single cardboard box. He only spoke five words to me, most likely because he was still upset after everything that happened with Wyatt yesterday.
A second crash, this time much louder, has me running for the stairs at the end of the hall. My lungs burn from exertion as I bolt up the steps two at a time.
I storm into the attic. It’s impossible to see much past the stacks of boxes nearly reaching the support beams.
“Cal?” I call out.
A groan from somewhere to my left has me working my way in that direction. The attic is a maze of boxes, chests, and containers, so it takes me longer than I’d like to find Cal laid out on the floor like a starfish.
He doesn’t move at the sound of my footsteps, although his fingers twitch at his sides. His eyes remain screwed shut as I kneel beside him and scan his body for any injuries.
“What happened?” I ask.
He doesn’t sit up. “I fell.”
“And you didn’t think to get up?”
