On My Way To You (Broken Love Duet 2)

“Callie.”

“Liza’s headache got worse. She’s lying down.”

“Okay. Just tell her I got everything done. I’ll call her tomorrow. I need to get a move on.”

“She said you were moving to California,” Callie says as I turn around. I close my eyes. I don’t want to have a conversation with her. I don’t want to tell her about any of my plans. Hell, I don’t want to be in the same room with her. I hate Mitch. There are no ifs, ands, or buts about that. I hate him. But there’s a part of me that hates Callie just as much. I don’t understand her, and maybe what blew up between us was my fault, but her choices…

I don’t think I’ll ever understand her choices.

I don’t guess it matters. She’s not looking for me to and there’s no going back. There will never be a me and Callie. It’s over. I’ve known it for a long time. The other night just made it clearer.

I turn around, even though I know I shouldn’t. Tension fills my body, and it makes every movement almost painful because I’m strung so tight. I need this over with. It’s just one more step into putting Callie Street—Lane—into my past for good.

“I’m not moving completely,” I admit. “At least not yet. I’m going out to see what happens. I plan on crashing with Jake and see if I can make a go with this music thing.”

“Liza will miss you,” she says, and I wonder if she knows how much those four words cut into my soul.

“And you, Callie? Will you miss me at all?”

I shouldn’t have asked. Even as the words left my mouth, I knew they were a mistake. I’m starting to think everything about me being near Callie was and is a mistake. She breathes in, the sound loud and audible in the room. There’s a fine tremor that runs through her body. She looks frail and tiny. Jesus, she’s lost so much weight since she lost the baby that a strong wind could knock her over. She’s wearing jeans and a black long-sleeved shirt, and her hair pulled up in a ponytail. She barely resembles the girl I used to love—the woman I have been obsessed with for what seems my whole life. I almost feel guilty even talking to her. It’s reminiscent of kicking a puppy.

“Reed…”

“Forget I asked. Tell Mom that I’ll call her tonight.” I turn again to walk back toward the utility room and out the back door. I’m calling myself all different kinds of a fool when Callie’s voice stops me again.

“I will miss you, Reed,” she admits. She’s speaking in a whisper that I have to strain to hear her, but for some reason, it resonates inside my brain as if she screamed it.

“How did we get here, Callie?” I finally ask. It’s a question that I’ve wanted to ask a million times and never did. It’s a question that keeps me up at night.

It’s a question that hurts.

“We were young and stupid, and both made decisions that we shouldn’t have,” she murmurs.

“Do you regret yours?”

“Does it even matter anymore? There’s way too much water under the bridge now, Reed. Our lives went in different directions. You are going to be famous one day. I feel it.”

“And what about you, Callie? What’s going to happen to you?” I ask, because when I look at her now, I feel like she’s slowly dying, and she’s not letting anyone save her.

“Me? Reed, I’m okay. All I’ve ever wanted was a man to choose me, to love me over anything and everything else. I know you and Katie don’t get that. I’ve never had that in my life but with Mitch. We’ve lost our way, but I have to believe we will get it back.”

“I loved you once, Callie.”

“You did, but there was always Chasity, and you always put her first. I didn’t understand, I can admit that. I don’t think I understood until I was pregnant with Ryan. When you have a child coming and that child needs to come first. You thought you had a child on the way with Chasity, and that child needed to come before anyone and anything—including me. I look back now, and I promise, I understand.”

“Fuck, Callie.”

“Maybe Mitch and I got together because I was hurting and I’d lost you, but we were happy when I was pregnant. We were building a future. I made vows, and I’m going to fight to keep them.”

“One person can’t fight alone, sweetheart.”

“I can try,” she responds.

I nod. There’s nothing else to say. At least we had a talk that we should have had long ago. That’s about as much closure as you can get in this situation.

“Take care of yourself, Callie.”

“You too, Reed. Be happy, please. You may not believe me, but I really want that for you.”