The Delivery Girl

49. Secrets

Callen

I debate going over to her to talk, but I can't bring myself to do it. My feet stay planted, listening to whoever the hell this guy speaking to me is. Maybe it's my pride. Maybe it's my fear. Or both.

I can't believe she meddled. She went straight to the detective instead of me. It's one thing to want to be in the loop, but it's an entirely different thing to purposely withhold information from me.

It was like a slap in the face finding out. I know she was trying to help, but it didn't feel like help. It felt like she didn't trust me – like I'm not enough for her. I've been worrying about her so fucking much, and she didn't care.

Eliza bounces over to me. "Hi Callen!" She throws her arms around me and squeezes me in a bone crushing hug.

"Happy birthday, Eliza." I pat her head and force a smile onto my face.

Eliza has always loved having huge parties for her birthday. Mine, on the other hand, get smaller every year. Each birthday only reminds me of how quickly life is slipping by, and how much more I still have to achieve. The responsibility grows heavier and heavier each year.

"You look tired."

I groan and drag my hand down my face. "It's been a long day."

"Want to talk about it?" she offers, tilting her head.

"Not really." She's too young, too optimistic to understand my situation. How do I explain to a girl who's always looking on the bright side what it feels like to be me? How keeping Sterling Studios alive is slowly killing me in return?

She hesitates, then nods. "Alright. I'll make sure everyone is out of here by midnight."

"Thanks sis."

Her expression softens. "I'll be around, if you want to talk about anything."

I nod. Words feel useless.

–

I rest my hands on the bathroom sink, staring at myself in the mirror. I can't remember the last time I've felt this tired. Our fight has been gnawing at me all day, piled on top of angry clients, unfinished paperwork, stressed staff. It feels like Sterling Studios is hanging by a thread. One misstep and everything I've worked for with fall and crumble.

I debate what to do. I have two other apartments downtown that I can escape to. I could vanish for the night, not be confronted by Julie's eyes, avoid the truth of what's happening between us. But the thought of being away from her twists my stomach. Even angry, I don't want distance.

Right as I leave the bathroom, two girls approach me. They look even younger than Eliza; cheeks flushed with alcohol, voices high with excitement.

"Hey there," one of them says, twirling her hair. "I'm Amy."

"And I'm Grace," the other says, batting her lashes. "What's your name?"

I'm not in the fucking mood to deal with this.

"Sorry, I'm busy."

I try to step around them, but they block me in the narrow hallway. 

"Aw, but the other guys at this party are immature losers," Amy whines. "Can't you hang out with us for a little while?"

Grace steps closer to me and lowers her voice. "Plus I'm sure you're not like them. We've actually never been with an older guy before."

I feel my eye twitch. I haven't felt this feeling in a long time. The remnants of the old me, buried deep inside since I met Julie, start threatening to resurface. The old Callen who had meaningless one night stands with girls I don't remember the names or faces of. Chasing the high of each blurry night. It was fun, easy. There were no fights, no regrets or guilt. No consequences for my actions.