Rekindled (22 page)

“Callie,”

“No, please, Tate, let me finish,” she says holding her hand up to me. “When we first ran into each other weeks ago, you had asked me why I was back here. The truth is, I never intended on coming back, but something came up in my life leaving me with no choice.”

My eyebrows furrow while I try to make sense of her words. My body goes rigid as various scenarios roll through my mind. “Callie, did Zach hit you?” I ask tentatively, scared to hear her answer.

“No. He was a complete asshole at times, but he never hit me.”

I search her face taking in the way her lashes graze the tops of her cheeks when she blinks, and the way her cupid’s bow widens when her lips curl into a small smile. I’d forgotten the way her eyes remind me of the ocean because her irises, while on the surface look like a pale shade of blue, when you look close enough, you can see they’re actually comprised of about twenty different shades, all blending together seamlessly to make the most beautiful pair of eyes I’ve ever seen.

After studying her for a moment, I’m convinced she’s not lying about that. “So then what happened? What’s going on?”

She swallows and her gaze instantly drops to the ground. “Look, I want to tell you everything, but it’s just…embarrassing.”

I let out a long exhale. Part of me knew she probably wouldn’t tell me, but even knowing that, it doesn’t sting any less. “You still don’t trust me, do you? I told you, Callie, you can tell me anything. I want to be there for you in any way I can.”

She shakes her head and bites down on her lower lip. “Don’t you see? That’s the problem. I want to tell you everything because you’ve always been the person I wanted to share everything with. After Jonah was born, I tried to convince myself that I made the right decision by marrying Zach. That the ache that took residence in my heart, burrowing into the deepest crevices every time I thought of you would somehow ease with time. But it never did.” She pauses as her voice becomes jagged. “At night, when I’d lay with Jonah curled up in my arms, I’d listen to the soft sounds of his breathing, knowing Zach wouldn’t stumble home until the early hours of the morning, and I’d always think back to you.”

Callie’s silent for a few minutes, absently staring toward the first hole of the golf course, the white flag waving casually in the breeze. I want to say something, but from the pensive look on her face, I can tell she isn’t done working through her thoughts. It’s the same look she’d get on her face when we were kids and my dad would ask if we wanted to help with his crossword puzzles. Callie would grab a pencil and chew on the eraser while staring at the questions, taking her time to go through each possible answer before speaking it out loud.

“I used to comb through my decisions in life, replaying them like a choose-your-own-adventure storybook where I’d pick a different outcome and imagine what my life would be like. I’d replay the events that happened that one day, picturing what life would be like if we had done things differently.”

I nod, knowing I’ve done the same thing in my head at least a million times.

“I spent years being mad at you for pushing me away, constantly trying to convince myself that I was better off without you. That I didn’t need or want you in my life. And then when I came back here, you made it that much easier that night we ran into each other at
Red’s
.” A wry smile crosses her face and I grimace remembering how much of an asshole I was to her. “But then you wanted to be my friend, and I wanted that too. And the more time we spent together, the more it became harder to convince myself of the one thing I’ve been fighting since the day I walked away from you. It didn’t matter how many miles apart we were, or how much time had passed since we’d seen each other because despite all that, I have never stopped loving you,” she says her voice just barely above a whisper.

For a second I think I misheard her, but when I turn to look at her, it’s written all over her face.
She still loves me.
A brief moment of ecstasy takes flight before anger surges through me, squashing any trace of happiness like a pesky gnat buzzing in my ear. Launching myself off the bench, I interlock my fingers behind my head and begin to pace in front of her.

“Are you kidding me, Callie? You can’t just say shit like that! I’m engaged to another woman!”

Hurt flashes across her face and I hate knowing that I’m the one that caused it, but I was struggling enough with trying to keep things platonic, and the only thing refraining me from crushing my mouth to hers was the fact that she just wanted friendship from me. Knowing now that she still loves me suddenly makes our very black-and-white relationship slip into a muted gray where I’m not quite sure which way is up and which way is down.

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” she says frowning and shaking her head. “I shouldn’t have said that, I didn’t mean to upset you. I must have had too much champagne.”

“I mean, how did you expect me to react to that? Did you just expect me to come running back to you? Pretend like you never fucking broke my heart all those years ago? Because you did, Callie. I understand now why you chose Zach all those years ago, but it doesn’t change the fact that when you did it, you fucking destroyed me. My heart was obliterated.”

She sucks in a sharp breath and hurriedly plucks her shoes off the ground, not bothering to put them on before she takes off sprinting across the grass towards the clubhouse, leaving me alone. Taking my time to crack each of my knuckles, I try to work through the gamut of emotions churning inside me, but with each second that passes, the feeling of agitation seems to heighten. Deciding the only thing that will help right now is to not think about it, I stalk back to the clubhouse trying to ignore the unwelcome thoughts that are permeating my mind. I’ve tried to convince myself that Callie and I could be just friends, that my feelings for her were simply those you have for a close friend. But after tonight, I know that’s not true. I’m in love with two women. I’m a total asshole.

“I’m an idiot,” I say into the phone, as I shovel a forkful of eggs into my mouth.

“Oh sweetie, you can’t help it if you still love the guy,” Patty says calmly after I explained my huge faux pas from the gala fundraiser.

It’s been two weeks since I confessed to Tate that I still loved him, and each time I replay it in my head, I want to just crawl into bed and hide underneath the covers. Not that I even need to hide, since I haven’t seen or heard from Tate since the event. I groan around my fork knowing that I messed up. Badly. Tate and I were just getting back to being friends again, and what do I do? Go and screw it up by confessing how I feel.

“It doesn’t matter how I feel about him, he’s
engaged
. You don’t tell a man you love him when he’s set to marry someone else.”

“Oh, you mean like he did to you?” she says thoughtfully.

“That’s not the same. He didn’t know I was engaged.”

“But he knew you were with someone. Taken is taken. And yes, maybe it’s bad timing that you told him how you feel, but maybe this is a good thing. This way, no matter who he chooses, there won’t be any regrets on either side, you know?”

“I didn’t tell him hoping he’d leave his fiancée. They seem happy together, and she seems like a really great person.”

“So then why did you tell him?”

I sigh. “I don’t know. Julia was talking about wanting her wedding on the date that Tate and I met, and I’d had a few glasses of champagne in me and very little food, so I just wasn’t thinking very clearly I guess, and it just slipped out.”

Patty laughs and I can just imagine her shaking her head, her thick brown curls bobbing around her face. “Ah, well that explains it. You never could hold your alcohol very well. I’m sure you guys will work it out.”

“Maybe.”

“Anyway hon, I need to get going. Scott and I are going shopping over in Chinatown, but call me if you need me. I know how hard today is going to be for you.”

“Thanks, Patty. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

It takes me three pep talks and 2 large slices of chocolate cake before I dig up the courage to visit the one place I’ve been dreading since I arrived back in Idaho. I make a quick pit stop to pick up a bouquet of daisies, remembering how much Rylee loved playing he-loves-me-he-loves-me-not with the petals as she’d sit on the stoop outside my front door, drinking Yoo-Hoo and popping her bubble gum.

The cemetery is a small plot of land right behind town square, and a place that I haven’t been to since her funeral, seven years ago. There’s an eerie red tint to all the headstones as the sun sets behind the mountains, and I clutch the bouquet of flowers tightly to my chest as I enter through the wrought-iron gate. The grass smells freshly cut and my shoes sink slightly, making a gentle
squish,
reminding how strange it is to walk on something so alive while in the midst of all this death.

An older woman nearby is kneeling beside a headstone, her hands clasped tightly together with her head bowed as her shoulders shake with fury from her loss. I read the inscription on the headstone, wondering who she’s mourning. Was it a lover? A friend? A sibling? Was their death from old age? Or like Rylee, were they ripped away from her without any warning?

Rylee’s grave is a small plot located at the back of the cemetery and there are two floral bouquets filled with brightly colored flowers sitting by her headstone, right next to someone sitting Indian-style with their head bowed. Even from afar, I can tell it’s him. I pause, not wanting to intrude on his space, letting my eyes roam over the inscription which reads:

RYLEE AMELIA CORBIN

JANUARY 14, 1996 – JULY 12, 2008

IN LOVING MEMORY OF OUR DAUGHTER AND SISTER, MEMORY MAKES LOVE ETERNAL

I slowly make my way forward, intending on just leaving the flowers and coming back another time, but I freeze when I hear the low timbre of Tate’s voice talking to Rylee. I know I should pull away, that this is an intimate moment between him and his little sister, but my feet refuse to move because hearing his words has my heart plunging into the deepest parts of my soul, anchoring me to the ground.

“I know it’s been awhile since I’ve come down to see you. It’s not that I didn’t want to, but it’s just too painful.” He pauses as if trying to find the right words. “I’ve just been so angry. Not at you, but at me. I should have been able to protect you. I should have known better than to let you come along with us. But I didn’t, and now you’re gone.” His voice cracks and he rakes his hands over his face. “You were my kid sister, and I should have been able to protect you from the world. Protect you from harm and feeling pain, and I failed you. Why couldn’t it have been me instead?”