Best Two Out of Three

Part 21

Monday, August 24, 2020

Callie only stayed one extra night at the hotel in Jacksonville. She'd booked the room through Thursday; it was non-refundable. But she couldn't stay there another day. She was tired of washing and wearing the same five outfits she'd packed when she walked out more than two weeks ago. She was tired of living in limbo. So, before the sun had even come up Monday morning, she checked out, got in her car, and set out for Virginia.

It was just under an eight-hour drive, which meant she had an awful lot of time to think about what she would say to Adam. And the more she thought, the more solid she became in her decision. The longer she drove, the more every sad country song streaming through the radio seemed to tell her what she needed to do—no matter how bad it would hurt. She refused to sit around and wait any longer. As far as she was concerned, they were only delaying the inevitable.

It was almost four o'clock when she pulled into Adam's driveway. She parked next to his truck and cut the ignition. She was exhausted from the drive, and despite all the time she'd had to prepare herself she still wasn't ready to confront him, not mentally or emotionally. But she didn't drive all day to turn around. She had to do it, ready or not.

The world was quiet as she walked up to the front door. It was unlocked. She went inside. It wasn't long before she heard the sound of someone coming quickly down the stairs. Adam's blue eyes looked confused at the sight of her. Not relieved. Not happy. Not hopeful. Just confused. It broke Callie all over again.

"Hey," he said.

She let out a rueful breath. "Hey? I've been gone more than two weeks and that's all you have to say to me?"

He frowned. "I'm sorry, Cal. But I wasn't expecting to see you. Why didn't you tell me you were coming back?"

She picked up her hand and let it fall back down in frustration, her keys dangling from her first two fingers. "What would've been the point?"

It hit him when she said that. It was written all over his face, clear as day. "You're not staying."

Callie's nose burned. She shook her head, a bubble in her throat. "No. I'm not."

She crossed into the kitchen and pulled a glass out of a cabinet to get herself some water. Her hand shook as she carried it to the fridge and filled it up. She took a drink. Adam watched the entire time, mute.

Callie walked to the kitchen island and set the glass down. She drew in a shaky breath—and then she told him what she'd been thinking, over and over, for the last eight-plus hours.

"I can't go on like this anymore, Adam. I can't sit around waiting anymore. It's been more than two weeks, and the only time I heard from you was when you burst into my hotel room with Alex demanding to know why I'd been out with Cash. Do you know how that's made me feel? It feels like you don't care about us enough to even try. To even pick up the phone and send a text that says you're thinking of me, or you're sorry, or something. Anything." She shook her head. "You can't even look at me right now."

Adam's eyes flicked up to meet hers. They were so sad. Ashamed. "How can I, Cal?" he asked. "I know what I've done. I know how bad I've hurt you."

"Do you?"

"Yes!"

"Then why haven't you tried to fix it?"

Tears filled her eyes and the room went hazy. Adam looked away again. He didn't have an answer for her. He didn't have an answer for anything anymore.