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“You…okay?” he says softly, crossing his massive arms corded with muscles, the sleeves of the coveralls rolled up.
It hurts how his voice is so familiar and comforting, yet painful to hear again at the same time. It’s like a stab to my heart.
I swallow and look at him, tension and hesitation pulsing through me. Then anger fills me.Am. I. Okay?I shake my head. He can ask me that so casually like the past twelve years didn’t just happen without an explanation.
A little time passes, and we continue to stare at each other. I can’t form actual words, but so many thoughts race through my head. Thoughts I can’t bring my mouth to say right now. It’s like I’m frozen.
His gaze softens, and finally, he says, “Okay, I’ll just get you hooked up if you want to wait off to the side.” He turns to walk back to his truck. I watch the way his arms flex as he works. I remember those hands that used to hold me and the mouth that used to kiss me. Goose bumps appear on my arms, and I shiver, rubbing my arms as I move.
I spin toward my car, then take a deep breath and look up at the sky in frustration. I don’t have the energy for this. I’m so mentally and physically drained that my emotions are dangerously close to the surface. I cannot afford to let SJ see he’s the cause of most of it. I don’t want to sit in the same truck as him and act like nothing happened. And how can he?
He gets out and comes around to my side to open the door for me. I stare at him, anger bubbling up in me. I shake my head in disbelief at his nonchalance.
“Get in, Callie.” He nods to the cab of the truck. His tone has changed. He seems irritated, and I wonder why. Is it because I’m back in Freedom Valley? This isn’t his town. It’s mine, too. And I’m not the one who broke us. I’m the one who has the right to be mad.
The emotions from the day I found out he left wash over me. And it hurts even more than it did that day. Because he’s back and acting like none of it even happened.
“Just get in,” he repeats, scrubbing a hand over his face in frustration.
I slide into the seat, then press myself up against the door and snap my seat belt on.
SJ’s indifference pricks and needles at me, burrowing under my skin until it burns. A feeling I’m all too aware of from my parents, but to experience it from SJ is another type of pain entirely. I feel the telltale sting in my nose, and my eyes water. Digging my nails into my palms, I attempt to halt the tears, but I’m too tired from work and from this confrontation to stop them from falling.
I turn and face the windshield so he can’t see my face, but I’m shaking. I’m trying to compose myself before he slides into the driver’s seat next to me.
The engine hums while rock music from the radio plays softly in the background. The truck smells even more like him—like a cozy warm flannel, cedar, juniper, and black pepper—causing my chest to ache. I lean against the window, seeking comfort from the cool glass and wishing this ride and this evening were over.
He looks over at me and says quietly, “I’msosorry, Cal.”
I glance at him, and his face looks pained when he sees mine. I don’t know why, but that makes me feel even worse. Because I realize that I miss him and still love him. I can’t just turn it off. I never could like he did. I want to hug him. I want to kiss him and tell him everything that’s happened. But I can’t.
I sniff angrily through my tears and try my best to act like I don’t care and shrug. “What are you sorry for?”
“Everything.”
There’s nothing he can say. He can be sorry all he wants. It won’t change things.
He lets out a deep sigh and puts the truck in gear. I sneak a look at his profile, and he’s got a five-o’clock shadow going on that he’s never had before. Seeing him up close again is surreal. He’s filled out, and he’s a man now. Gone is the tall, lean boy. This version of SJ looks like the man I imagined he would be. Strong, solid, and safe. Only he’s not safe. He broke my heart and can’t be trusted anymore. He’s on the no-fly list.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks, his eyes finally looking over at me.
“What amIthinking?” I begin to cackle like a maniac. “You want to know whatI’mthinking?” I say as I laugh and cry at the same time.
“Yeah, I do.” He looks over at me with concern and probably fear as I’m crying and laughing like a complete lunatic when he’s just asked me a simple question. A question twelve years too late.
“Oh,nowyou want to know what I’m thinking?” I laugh even harder, wiping my eyes. He looks even more confused.
At a red light, he stares over at me. And I think about making him wait for another twelve years for an answer like he’s done to me.
I just glare at him, shaking my head.
“I’m worried about you, Callie.”
“You shouldn’t be worried about me, SJ. In fact, you should be happy to know that I’m someone else’s problem now. I’m living the dream. My life is fantastic. I’m totally fine,” I bite out bitterly.
He looks at me carefully, then says, “Okay.” It’s almost like he doesn’t believe me. Well, he shouldn’t because it’s a lie. Thad and I aren’t officially dating, and we never will. But SJ doesn’t need to know that.
“Just, okay? You couldn't care less about me, right?” I say sarcastically.
