The Delivery Girl

50. Voicemail

Julie

I wake up staring at an unfamiliar looking ceiling. It takes me a few seconds to realize I'm not at home. The air smells faintly of laundry detergent, the light that streams in between the curtains too warm, too calm. I sit up slowly, ignoring my pounding headache. This isn't my bed, or my room.

Last night slowly comes back to me in disjointed bits and pieces.

Casey and Mei eventually finding me sitting alone in Callen's office. Empty wine bottle in hand, spent and out of tears. Casey's arm around me, leading me to her car. The blur of lights streaking by the car window. Everything sort of goes black after that.

I fumble my hand around on the nightstand until I find my phone. Disappointment flickers in my chest when I see no texts, no voicemails.

There was, albeit desperate, hope in my heart that Callen had texted me. That maybe he reached out, wanting to resolve things, fix what we had broken last night. But I don't deserve that. I don't blame him for being mad.

I groan and bury my face in my hands as more and more of last night's fight comes back to me. The words I threw at him. Asshole, coward. The pain in his eyes when I said them. He barely fought back. He could've criticized me, called me a hypocrite and thrown it all back in my face. But he didn't. He actually looked hurt. More hurt and vulnerable than I've ever seen him before, but I was too angry to care.

I should've had more humility. I did the exact same thing he did. It's not like I've been very open about my feelings either.

Everything will be ok once we talk about it, I try to convince myself. We just needed some time to cool down.

I tiredly rub my eyes and sleepily trudge out of Casey's guestroom. I briefly notice I'm wearing her pajamas. The pants bunch around my ankles and sleeves go past my fingertips. She's always been much taller than me.

Pain echoes through my skull with each step. The stained glass window at the end of the hall beams rays of morning light at my face.

"Oh hey, you're up early." Casey glances up as I walk into the kitchen. She pours me a cup of coffee before I can even ask. I sit down next to her at the island. "How are you feeling?"

"Not great," I mutter. "Thanks for letting me stay over."

"Don't even mention it," she says. "I'm always here for you, you know that."

"Thanks Casey." I sigh and take a sip of coffee. I must look like a mess, but I can't find the energy to worry about it. We've seen and supported each other at some of our lowest points. "Did I tell you about what happened?" I ask, realizing how little I remember from last night.

She nods. "Most of it, I think. You were pretty drunk, but we got the gist of it." She pauses to take a sip of coffee. "You were really upset. It sounds like Callen was acting like a real piece of shit."

Casey is a ride or die kind of friend, I know she'll always be on my side, even when I don't deserve it.

I wince. "He wasn't."

She raises an eyebrow. "That's definitely not what you were saying last night."

I sigh. "Honestly, I regret some of the things I said... I was angry and didn't mean them. I shouldn't have been so harsh."

She rests her chin on her palm. "So what are you going to do?"

I rub my aching temples. "I should go home and talk to him. Apologize."

"Alright, let me drop you off."

–

I let myself into the house. Callen's cleaners must've already come this morning. Last night's mess has been cleared, leaving no traces of the party. It's completely silent, but something feels off about it.

It's too quiet.

I head down the hall towards Callen's office. My stomach tightens with every step. I swallow, realizing I'm not even sure what I want to say.

But when I push the door open, the room is empty. His laptop is exactly where it was last night, and his keys are still gone. I frown, could he still be at work? Has he just abandoned me?

Don't be silly.

I search the rest of the house, but every room is empty. The uneasy feeling in my stomach becomes heavier with each room.

I return to his office and sit on his oversized leather chair. I impatiently drum my fingertips on the armrests, trying to figure out where he could be. I wouldn't put it past him to be working on a Saturday, but it's nearly noon. He hasn't slept in over 24 hours, could he really be pushing himself this hard?

The seconds stretch painfully long as I sit in silence. Is he really that mad at me? He's refusing to come home? Maybe this won't go as smoothly as I was hoping.

I reach over to the phone on Callen's desk and call his office, just to reassure myself that nothing is wrong. Even if he's mad, I just want to hear his voice.

It rings and rings before going to voicemail.

I decide to call the front desk. It's Saturday, but Hayley's there on weekends sometimes.

"Hi Callen," Hayley responds when she picks up, her voice calm and casual.

"Oh, sorry Hayley, it's Julie... is Callen not in the office?"

"No, I haven't seen him all morning." She pauses. "Why? Is something the matter?"

My mouth goes dry. "Um, no, sorry. Never mind."

I hang up and check my phone again.

"Oh my god," I mutter to myself.

My phone's on airplane mode. I was so disoriented when I woke up that I didn't even notice.

Back in undergrad, after many unfortunate drunk calls and texts, Casey and I decided that we'd set the other person's phone to airplane mode if they got drunk. She must've done that last night.

My hands tremble as I scramble to turn it off. I wait a few moments and find three missed voicemails from Eliza.

"Hey Julie, sorry I'm not sure where you or Callen went, but I'm just letting you know I've cleared everyone out and I'm heading home."

I skip to the next message.

"Julie? I think something's happened to Callen, please call me back." Her voice is shaky, rushed. I've never heard her sound like this.

The final message makes my heart drop.

"J-Julie, there was an accident. I'm on my way to the hospital now."

I check the time of her last voicemail – just past 2am.

For a few seconds, time seems to stand still. I sit there, completely in shock, staring at my phone in my trembling hands, hearing ringing in my ears.

Then suddenly, everything happens all at once. The next few minutes are a blur, and I find myself in my car, speeding to the hospital.

My brain barely processes the drive. Bright lights, squeaking windshield wipers, my pulse pounding in my ears. My mind swirls with a violent storm of thoughts, making me feel sick to my stomach. How hurt is he? Is he going to make it? What if that fight was the last thing I ever said to him?

We could've resolved it. We could've made up. He wouldn't have left.

Tears fill my eyes.

This is all my fault.

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A/N:

Stressed myself out writing this chapter lol