by LS Anders
Dylan’s question had been directed at Evana, but it had gained Callie’s full attention.
“What?” Callie’s head whipped around from where she had been silently staring out the front windshield. “If I didn’t know better, I would think you’re really a man, Dylan! Always on the hunt for your next conquest.”
“Well, he’s freaking hot as hell. Can you blame me?”
“So, are they serious, E?” Callie couldn’t help but jump on Dylan’s bandwagon and asked the question again.
“Um... I don’t really have an answer for that.”
* * *
With a belly full of heaven and a Styrofoam box full of leftovers intended for the following day's lunch, and her best friend humming beside her in the cab, Callie was oddly content for the moment despite the ever-present black cloud of uncertainty that was now dogging her every step.
They had stopped by Exotic Ink to drop off Evana and grab Dylan's luggage before heading to Callie's.
Once they hit the Williamsburg Bridge, leaving the island behind, that unwelcome feeling that her butt was crawling across the seat was caused her to wiggle uncomfortably. She shuddered once they made it over, and Dylan reached across the seat to pat her hand, a small confront showing that she was aware of Callie's little idiosyncrasies. She wished she had that with a man.
Callie blinked back tears when she thought about her first date with Vehn and how he had held her close in the backseat of that swanky car. She had been so engrossed with him that she hadn’t even noticed the damn bridge that night.
He seemed to have a sixth sense about her moods, too, which was an unusual experience for her to have with a man, making this break up or whatever the hell it was that much harder to take. Finally, she'd found someone of the opposite sex that understood her, and he might turn out to be a liar.
Awesome!
“Here we are,” Dylan announced as Callie’s condo came into view. “I've always liked this building. Very charming.”
Callie paid the cabby while Dylan wrestled her suitcase out of the trunk. They rode up the elevator in silence. Her mood had turned gloomy on the cab ride over. Dylan had always been strangely perceptive of her moods and knew Callie needed some space.
“Hey, girlie, I’m gonna take a shower,” Dylan announced once inside. Pulling her suitcase behind her, she bee-lined for the guest bath through the second bedroom that housed Callie’s collection of shoes.
“Ok...” Callie barely heard Dylan; she was too focused on the weight of that damn envelope in her bag. Setting her purse on the dining room table, she pulled the envelope free and tore the thing open. So much for her fear of the contents.
Callie,
I’m truly sorry for all the trouble my life has caused you. I never meant for you to get hurt, and I have faith that Mr. Petersen will correct any wrongs that have been done to you.
Since you still have me blocked, I can only guess that your feelings for me have either changed or weren’t ever there to begin with.
I do understand you have trust issues when it comes to relationships, but I thought you knew I was different than those other guys. Now that I’ve had time to step back and reflect, I can say that I’m extremely disappointed that you didn’t come to me and ask for my side of the story. You never even gave me a chance to explain, you just believed everything the media had to say. That hurts more than anything else. I even came to your condo to try and explain, but you left me out in the fucking hall to beg. Do you have any idea how humiliating that was for me?
I trusted you with my heart. I had this stupid notion that you were falling in love with me, the same as I was with you. But with love comes trust. You obviously don’t trust me, so how could you ever love me?
Just for the record, I was never in love with Regina and was certainly never engaged to her.
I hope you do trust me enough to know that I have deleted all the explicit photos you have sent to me and would never have used them for any malicious purposes. I trust that you will do the same with mine.
Vehn
Callie could hardly catch her breath from the utter shock at the contents of the letter. She supposed she expected it to say how much he loved her and that he couldn’t live without her. She wanted that loving, extraordinary relationship that had been developing between them. She wanted that brand-new spark of love feeling back.
Maybe all was not lost. Maybe if she texted or called him, she could patch things up and explain that she had been wrong for doubting him. She had been planning to call him soon anyway, she just wanted to wait until after her appointment with Dr. Z.
She rummaged around her purse becoming more irritated by the second. Prickling anxiety scurried across every inch of her skin when she failed to locate her cell. Pulling her hand free of the now jumbled guts, she paused a moment, returning the unblinking stare of the sugar skull adorning her wrist. Her reminder of her past mistakes, her inspiration to not make a hasty decision, her—
What the fuck ever!
That stupid sugar skull had turned into a fucking albatross. She didn't know how, but she somehow knew with uncertain clarity that she had been wrong to doubt him. Overwhelmed with panic that she needed to fix this fast before she lost him for good, she was now frantic to find that damn phone.
Unceremoniously dumping the contents of her purse out onto the floor, she bent over sifting through her personal things, her fingers finally locating the damn device. Straightening up, she pulled up his contact information, tapping the screen to unblock him. She felt like a total fool for doing that shit. Her hands shook as she frantically attempted to type out a text.
Callie: i reset your letter.
Callie: i read your letter. we mead.
“Fucking auto correct!” she screamed, shaking the phone.
Callie: i read your letter. we need to talk.
Every nerve in her body was overstimulated, making her legs begin to quake beneath her. She dropped slowly to the floor as she considered what she was about to do. Callie hit the delete button, the text never to be sent.
Vehn had said his piece. This was a goodbye letter, not one proclaiming undying love.
This was her fault. Her doing. She had no one else to blame but herself for this. He was right, she should have at least given him the opportunity to tell his side, but she hadn’t. She’d taken what the media had dished out, lapped it up, and believed what they had said.
She didn’t deserve him.
Then she did one of the hardest things she’d never thought she would be strong enough to do alone… she deleted his contact information.
“Hey, Callie, is it my imagination or have your shoes multip…” Dylan made her way out of the guest bedroom rubbing a towel over her wet head only to stop short at finding Callie sitting in the middle of the floor.
The now empty purse lay discarded, its contents littered around her. She was so focused on the now blank screen on her phone that she didn’t notice when Dylan crouched down next to her on the floor until she touched Callie’s forehead, startling her. Her face had turned ashen. Tendrils of her hair soaked with sweat were clinging to her cheeks.
“Oh honey, what has happened?”
Callie handed Dylan the letter to read. “He’s done with me.”
“I’m not so sure, Callie. You’ve had him blocked all this time, and I’m not saying you were wrong to do that, but look at it from his point of view. He’s trying to protect himself from getting hurt, too. I mean, he says right here he’s falling in love with you, and if that’s true, and I think it is, then he’s probably freaking out that you wouldn’t talk to him. Maybe you should call—”
“Was.”
“What?’
“He said was, as in past tense. As in not anymore. Oh my God, Dylan, I have really fucked up this time. I should have listened to what he had to say. He came by here that morning and banged on my door. Why didn’t I let him in? I’m so fucking stupid!”
“Callie, you did what you thought was right
at the time. You can’t fault yourself for that.”
“But I love him, Dylan and he’s right! I should have trusted him. What kind of person am I that I can’t trust the people I love?”
“The kind that is throwing up self-protection measures when she hears what she heard on the news, Callie!” Dylan gently scolded her friend. “You should call him and—”
“I can’t. I just deleted his number,” Callie announced, her glazed stare aimed over Dylan's shoulder.
“Well… shit, Callie. I tell you what, let’s start by getting you in the shower and then crash. Everything always looks better in the morning.”
Callie looked Dylan in the eye for the first time since she'd knelt down next to her on the floor, nailing her with a dirty look.
“Well that’s what I’ve heard. Besides, sitting on the floor in the middle of your purse vomit isn’t going to fix this.”
Callie allowed Dylan to coax her into the shower and finally into bed. They shared Callie’s bed, reminiscent of their childhood pajama parties. Only this time, they wouldn’t be talking and giggling long into the night.
No, this time Dylan would hum something soothing while she stroked Callie's hair and Callie cried herself to sleep.
For Vehn, it had been a long as hell two weeks. Even the prospect of seeing strippers at Cale’s bachelor party that had been planned a few months away hadn't cheered him up. All he could think about was Callie. He knew he'd just be comparing the topless girls to her and would find them all seriously lacking.
It had been almost a week since he’d asked Mr. Petersen to deliver that letter to her. The letter that he was now having second thoughts about. He had been really pissed and hurt at the time he’d written it, but he had meant what he’d said, and he did still feel the same.
How could Callie actually be in love with him if she didn’t trust him?
He hadn’t expected her to reply, but he secretly fantasized that she would call or come by his condo to tell him it was all a mistake, and that she knew he was innocent, that she loved him with all her heart, throwing herself into his arms and kissing him for all she was worth.
But this was not a fucking romance novel, this was real life, and to his supreme disappointment, nothing that cheesy had happened so far.
He was trying to stay pissed off at her for not trusting him and basically shutting him down, except he kept moving towards forgiveness. He guessed that was what happened when you truly loved someone. He loved Tegan like a brother, and never could stay mad at that fucker for very long, so he guessed the same held true when it came to love for a woman.
Yep, he was a damn fool. If he were smart, which he obviously was not, he would just let her go and move on, but his heart seemed to be more involved than he had originally thought, and moving on would require him to cut out his soul and leave it behind along with her.
Had it been any other woman that had completely cut him off without so much as listening to his side of the story, he would have been finished.
Done.
Bye, bye.
Peace out.
Evidently, not when it came to Callie. It would seem he didn't have much in the way of self-control, either, when it came to her, because it was everything he could do not to stalk her at work or her condo... well, there was just that once and she never knew he was there, so that shit didn't count!
He had felt like a complete idiot hiding out in that narrow alley across from the entrance to her building, but after a week and a half, he had yet to at least catch a glimpse of her. He was going through serious withdrawals, but all the sight of her had done was amplify the aching loss he already felt in his arms and hands from not being able to touch and hold her.
He still had her scent, though. He had pulled a straight-up pyscho-move and had sealed up the pillowcase she had slept on from their Tuesday night sleepover inside a Ziploc bag.
Sadly, her scent was beginning to fade, so he had taken to huffing her shampoo and conditioner she had left behind in the guest bath. Tegan had caught him once mid-inhale. Luckily, the guy never commented, merely raised a brow and shut the door.
On a much happier note, he was totally stoked about a very much appreciated unexpected package that had shown up at his attorney's office. He couldn't have been more surprised had a winged monkey flown out Mr. Petersen's ass when the guy handed him an envelope from an anonymous source.
Apparently, there was at least one member of the paparazzi on the planet with a conscience, and the letter that had been sent along with the photographs and the video had restored some of his faith in the human race. The Good Samaritan had explained that it wasn't right that Regina should get away with her lies, and thought that Vehn was one of the most genuine celebrities ever to exist and hoped the photos would help set things right.
Some of his favorite shots were of Regina and her girlfriend in a few rather compromising positions. Amazingly, this person had taken the time to follow the two and had captured several images of them that left no doubt in anyone's mind that they were a couple.
The majority of the video, however, was focused on Regina's closed door up until the point where he had thrown it open and stormed out into the hall, but the audio was as clear as if they had been speaking into a microphone.
He hadn't realized how loud their fight had been, that it could be heard through the wood door, or even that it had been witnessed. He'd been so pissed off the day of their break-up, he hadn't been aware of his surroundings, much less noticing anyone following him.
That video really did make him look like a total douche, though. He should have known what Regina was up to. He had allowed himself to be led around by the nose for a year and hadn’t even questioned her motives. Who only gets blow jobs and no sex from their girlfriend? Talk about ignorant as fuck.
It did embarrass him to no unliving end to watch that video, but he had forced himself to several times because he felt like he deserved to punish himself for his naivety. Also, he couldn't help but get a good belly laugh every time he heard himself say, “You're a load your mama should have swallowed.”
Hey, he had to find humor wherever he could. It was so hard to come by nowadays.
Thankfully, there was a really good chance he would be keeping the embarrassing video to himself since his lawyer felt certain the case would remain in their favor because of Freda's confession to the police. He didn't think it would be necessary to use the items as evidence, but if he had to use it to help prove her guilty he would gladly lay his pride on the chopping block to do it.
He inwardly cringed at how foolish he felt at allowing himself to be used by Regina the way he had. His ego had taken a massive blow. And Callie treating him so indifferently after he had fallen so hard for her only added to his suspicions that he might be a complete dumbass when it came to women.
He had seriously considered making copies of everything and sending it all to Callie but decided against it because he felt that she should trust him without the use of any evidence, that his word should be enough. He knew she had been hurt in the past and she didn't want to get hurt again, but neither did he.
He couldn’t fathom why she had turned her back on him or how she could shut him out if she had any feelings for him at all. He couldn't wrap his head around the reason why she could be so fucking cold.
Had he been that far off the mark and totally wrong about her, who she was as a person?
She had completely turned her back on him when she'd blocked him. Not to mention, she had refused to answer the door, leaving him in the hallway to beg like a pathetic fool when he had stopped by right after the story had aired. That was just something you didn't do to someone you cared about.
Maybe she believed all that shit Regina had spouted before his lawyer had had her muzzled. But that would mean she thought he was a user and a cheater, and if that were true, she didn't know him at all, not like he thought she did. And that made him a fool ten times over for thinking he had actually found someone that had
gotten to know him.
For Vehn, every day was an inner struggle between wanting to chase her down and make her listen and wanting to just be done with her and move on. He kept changing his mind with the tick of every second.
He usually took T's advice, but not this time. Despite Tegan's relentless prodding that he needed to contact her, he was just pissed off enough at her to want to give her a taste of her own medicine by ignoring her while he desperately pined for her behind closed doors and sniffed her shampoo like a total creeper.
He hadn’t tried her number to see if she had unblocked him since the letter had been sent. He was too afraid to face fact that he could still be blocked. That would mean she was done with him completely. If she had reopened the lines of communication, he wouldn’t know what to say to her.
Even if they did get back together, he wasn't in a huge rush to jump feet first back into anything with her after the way she'd acted, blatantly ignoring him. He was definitely going to throttle back, taking Tegan's earlier advice of making her earn his trust.
Besides, you had to have thick skin to deal with the paparazzi, and she seemed to have anything but. Wading in the shallow end for a while and seeing how she would handle future issues with the media would be paramount in the life expectancy of any kind of relationship with her.
The lawsuit against Regina and her lover was going to be high up on the media food chain for quite a while, and he was anxious to see how Callie was going to handle the unwanted exposure.
He was afraid for her mental health, given the issues she'd had after her ex had done a number on her head. If he ever got his hands on that motherfucker... and what the hell kind of name was Ryder anyway?
Hell, for all he knew, this could be just the excuse she needed to end the relationship with him. She had already shown him she had concerns regarding his celebrity and how she felt like she wouldn't be able to fit in.
At this point, Vehn didn't know what to think anymore, and he was thoroughly exhausted by the gigantic “what if” that seemed to dog his every step. All he knew for certain was that he had never felt so gutted and racked with desperation in his life as the day she’d blocked him.
