What's Left of Me

by Kristen Granata

  Callie jumps into the pool with Miles in her arms, and I do the same with Brandon. Their friends jump in after us, everyone laughing and cheering.

  “Good plan, Wonder Woman.”

  Callie slaps her palm against mine and brushes her wet hair off her forehead. “Now I look like a drowned rat. Should’ve thought that idea through.”

  You look beautiful. “You’re having more fun than those trophy wives out there.”

  Callie grins. “Yeah, I am.”

  Josie saunters over to us, using her hand as a visor over her eyes. “You two going to come join the adults for a while or what?”

  I grimace. “I’m good.”

  She plants her hands on her hips. “Just let me introduce you to some of my friends. They’re asking about you, and I don’t want them to think you’re being rude.”

  I hike a shoulder. “Don’t really care what they think of me.”

  “I do.”

  Callie makes her way to the steps. “Come on, Cole. If I have to be subjected to trophy-wife torture, then so do you.”

  I grit my teeth. “Fine. But I’m not sitting next to Brenda and her geriatric husband.”

  “Cole,” Josie hisses. “They’ll hear you.”

  “I’ll say it louder so they do.” I cup my hands around my mouth and pretend like I’m going to shout their names.

  Josie elbows me in the stomach. “Don’t you dare.”

  I wrap my arm around the back of her neck and dig my knuckles into the crown of her head. “Don’t start something you can’t finish, big sis.”

  She shrieks. “You’re getting me all wet, you jerk!”

  I let her go with a shove. “Ah, it’s just water.”

  Callie laughs. “You two must’ve been such a handful growing up.”

  “You have no idea.” I shake my hair out and towel off. “She used to terrorize me.”

  Josie scoffs. “Yeah, until you had your growth spurt.”

  “Payback’s a bitch.”

  Josie sticks her tongue out at me. “Come on. Let’s go sit by the table.”

  I’m subjected to introductions and meaningless conversations for the next hour. The only thing that keeps me invested is Callie. She’s quiet until she has something to say, something of value, and when she does, I listen with rapt attention.

  My mother always used to say that people should talk less and listen more. I think she would’ve really liked Callie.

  I really like Callie.

  My stomach, jaw, and hands clench at the same time, as if my body can restrain this feeling to keep it from seeping out. I’m a prisoner in my own mind, daydreaming of the things I could have if my life had gone differently. If I’d made better choices.

  Maybe Callie is here to serve as my punishment. The thing I want that I can never have.

  At that thought, I push back from the table and head back to the pool house. I gave Josie what she wanted. Now I just want to be alone.

  After several minutes, there’s a knock on my door.

  Callie’s standing on the other side of it.

  She’s wearing a sheer black cover-up “What are you doing in here?”

  I war with what to say.

  I can’t stop staring at you.

  I want to hold you and bear the weight of your pain.

  You make me feel things I shouldn’t.

  I need to stay away from you in that bathing suit so I don’t pounce on you like a jungle cat.

  No, the truth won’t go over so well.

  “Just needed to get away. I don’t exactly fit in out there.”

  She glances over her shoulder at the couples and their children. “I get that.”

  “Want to come in? We can hide out together.”

  “Sure.”

  “I don’t have much to offer you in here. I’ve got water, beer, and some cereal.”

  She laughs as she steps inside. “I’m good, thanks.”

  I watch her as she makes a slow circle around the room. Her eyes bounce around from the bookcase to the flat screen mounted onto the wall, landing on the stack of cardboard boxes in the corner.

  “Your things are still in boxes.”

  I shrug and take a swig of beer. “No point in unpacking. I don’t plan on staying.”

  She frowns as if that news upsets her. “Where will you go when you leave?”

  “Not sure.”

  “Do you think you’ll stay in California or go back to New York?”

  “I miss New York, but I think I miss the way New York used to be. There’s nothing left for me to go back to.”

  She hums. “I don’t know what I’m going to do either.”

  “Do you ... do you think you’ll get back with Paul? Try to make things work?”

  She turns around to face me, and I’m hit with the full weight of her green-eyed stare. “I met with a lawyer this morning.”

  I can’t hide my surprise. “You did?”

  “He’s one of Dan’s friends. He says he trusts him.”

  I lean onto the back of the leather couch. “And how did that go?”

  “It was overwhelming. I don’t want to drag this out or take Paul for all he’s worth. I just want to be happy. I want to be free.” She shrugs and looks out the window. “All this money, and it doesn’t mean a damn thing.”

  “Money isn’t worth your happiness, but you should take whatever it is that Paul owes to you according to the law.”

  She laughs a humorless laugh. “That’s not what your sister thinks.”

  “Yeah, well, my sister thinks a lot of things for someone who’s never been in our shoes.”

  Callie nods. “You and Gertie are the only ones I know who understand. It helps.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “I wish I could know what you’ve gone through,” she says quietly.

  “Trust me, you don’t.”

  “I keep wondering if it’s better or worse than what I’ve been coming up with in my head.”

  “Why am I even a thought in your mind?”

  She walks toward me and sits at the edge of the couch beside me. “It’s kind of like when someone has a secret, but they refuse to tell you what it is. So, you’re left speculating what the secret could be and wishing the person would just tell you so you didn’t have to wonder anymore.”

  I smirk. “You’re just curious then?”

  “I think it’s more than curiosity. I ... I’ve grown to care about you, Cole. You’ve shown me who you are over these past couple of months. I don’t see the same person you see when you look in the mirror.”

  My heart wrenches with yearning. “Hearing the truth will change the way you see me.”

  “Your mistakes don’t define you. It’s a chapter in your life, a part of the whole. All I can judge you on is what you’ve shown me.” Callie reaches out and caresses my jaw with the lightest, feathery touch. “And you’ve shown me nothing but a caring man with a huge heart.”

  I want to believe her.

  I want to lean into her touch.

  Allow her to make the pain subside, even for just a moment.

  Awareness spins around me, a mixture of lust and need. My fingers itch to get lost in her hair, my mouth craving the unknown taste of hers.

  “Tell me,” she whispers. “Let me help you carry the weight of your burden like you’ve been helping me with mine.”

  “It would crush you.”

  “But it’s crushing you to bear it alone.”

  I swallow, my throat dry and my voice hoarse. “I can take it. I deserve to.”

  She shakes her head and lifts her other hand to my cheek, gripping my face in both hands so that all I can focus on is her.

  As if I could see anything else while she’s in the room.

  “No, Cole. You don’t deserve to live in hell any more than I do. I used to think I deserved it, but I’m learning that I don’t. What happened to us isn’t our fault, but what we choose to do with it after is up to us. I saw you laughing with your nephews earlier. Your
smile took my breath away. You were happy once. You can find that again. You can feel it again.”

  My body betrays me, acting on instinct without a second thought. My thumb slides over her bottom lip, and her eyes flutter closed.

  I lean in close, so close that our noses touch. “What if I told you that I feel happy with you? Then what, hmm?”

  “Cole, I—”

  A knock on my door cuts off her words, causing us to jump apart from one another.

  What the fuck am I doing?

  Another knock. “Uncle Cole, are you in there? We’re going to light the candles and sing to Miles.”

  “It’s Brandon,” Callie says as if I didn’t just hear his voice through the door. Her eyes are wide, burning a hole through me, searching for an explanation for what just happened.

  What almost happened.

  I give her a tight nod. “Let’s go.”

  I don’t look at her as I walk by—or for the rest of the night.

  Twenty-Two

  Callie

  I tossed and turned in bed last night for hours.

  I shouldn’t have tried to go to sleep so early, but I didn’t know what else to do with myself.

  Cole almost kissed me.

  And I almost let him.

  I don’t know what the hell I was thinking.

  What I’m still thinking.

  The way his hungry eyes looked into mine. The way my lip sizzled when his thumb skated across it. The way my head and my heart were completely in sync for what felt like the first time in a long, long time.

  I wanted it to happen.

  I’m an awful person.

  Cole’s vulnerable right now. He experienced something horrific, and he was opening up to me in the pool house yesterday. I took advantage of his trust, all while Paul is alone in our home, distraught and waiting for me to make a decision about our marriage.

  I’m still married.

  It’s only been three weeks since I left Paul. I can’t be kissing someone else! Or thinking about it.

  I bury my face in the pillow and let out an exasperated growl.

  Get your life together, Callie.

  I reach into the nightstand and pull out my journal.

  Get a job. Check.

  Consultation with a lawyer. Check.

  Continue therapy. Check.

  Go to group. Check.

  What’s next? It seems like I’m at a stalemate until I decide what to do about my marriage. The lawyer, Will, made it seem very cut and dry. Easy. I suppose divorce is easy on paper where there are no emotions involved.

  But that paper holds my life. My future.

  I don’t care about tangible items or Paul’s pension. Maverick is the only thing in that whole house that I’d fight for, and according to Will, I’d win that battle. Maverick was a gift Paul gave me for Christmas a few years ago, and gifts can’t be taken back by the gift giver.

  I’m worried about Paul. How would he handle this if I said I wanted a divorce? Would he be spiteful? Would he hate me? Would he try to hurt me?

  Or is he capable of change? Has he gone to therapy in the last few weeks? Is he making an effort to be better for himself, for us, for me?

  How would it feel to go back to living together after all this? Is our marriage salvageable? I used to think I could do something to fix us. Now, I’m not so sure. This is bigger than me.

  My head throbs. I hate thinking about the answers to these questions, but I need to figure this out.

  The sooner I do, the sooner I can find peace.

  “You look like hell.”

  I huff out a laugh. “Gee, thanks, Gertie.”

  “What happened to you?”

  I dig the heels of my hands into my eyes. “Couldn’t sleep last night. Had a lot on my mind.”

  She leans her hip against the counter. “Well, let’s hear it so I can help.”

  I shake my head. “I don’t want to bother you with my stuff.”

  “Your stuff is my stuff, sugar. You’re helping me run my business. Let me help you with yours. So, come on. Out with it.”

  I heave a sigh. “I don’t know what to do about Paul. I need to make a decision so I don’t leave the two of us in limbo, but I don’t know what the right answer is.”

  “The right answer is what you want to do. Plain and simple.”

  “What if I don’t know what I want?”

  “I have news for you, sugar.” Gertie steps closer to me and grips my shoulders. “You already know what you want. You’re just afraid to admit that you want it.”

  “I’m not so sure about that.”

  “You just need to listen better. Listen to what that little voice inside is telling you.”

  The corners of my mouth pull downward as I try to hear something, anything.

  “Don’t frown so much,” Gertie says with a wink. “Food tastes better when you cook it with love, not sadness.”

  I chuckle and get started on this morning’s orders. It’s so busy I barely have any time to think. I lose myself in cooking. It’s therapeutic. It reminds me of better days, when my mom and my grandfather were alive. Before Paul. Before this whole mess started. Cooking brings me happiness.

  Would I have to give this up if I went back to Paul?

  The thought alone makes my stomach hurt.

  As I’m getting ready to leave at the end of the day, Gertie stops me at the door.

  “I want to ask you something before you go, sugar.”

  “Of course.”

  “Have you had any panic attacks lately? In the last week or two?”

  My eyebrows dip down as I think about it. “No. I had one the night I left Paul, but I don’t think I’ve had one since.”

  Gertie hums. “Interesting.”

  “Why do you ask?”

  She shrugs as she flips the light switch. “I just think that’s very telling. That’s all. Have a good night, dear.”

  “Are you sure you don’t feel up to coming out? It’ll be our treat.”

  I shake my head. “I’m sure, but thank you so much for the offer.”

  Josie waves her hand at me. “You’re no fun!”

  “If she’s tired, she’s tired. She was working on her feet all day.” Dan shoots me a wink as he comes to my rescue.

  “Sure, take her side.” Josie rolls her eyes and clomps toward the front door in her wedges. “There’s food in the fridge when you get hungry, Cal.”

  “Thanks. Have fun!”

  I blow out a breath of relief as I lock the door behind them. Josie and Dan are taking the kids out to dinner, which means I have the entire house to myself tonight.

  I take the stairs two at a time and make a beeline for the guest bathroom. I’ve been dying to soak in a bath since I started staying here, and tonight’s the perfect night for it.

  While the tub fills, I strip out of my clothes and settle on a meditation playlist on YouTube. Then I light a few candles, shut off the lights, and climb into the warm water.

  Closing my eyes, I drift away to the soft sound of the music. I force any and all thoughts out of my mind, allowing myself to forget about everything that’s happening in my world right now. I let go and breathe.

  After the bath, I’m feeling more relaxed than ever as I wrap myself in my robe and head down to the kitchen to make something to eat.

  The doorbell rings.

  I check through the peephole, and all of my relaxation goes right out the window.

  My shoulders jump as he knocks on the door. “Callie, are you there? It’s Paul. I just want to talk.”

  I’m uneasy about the idea of being alone with Paul. Then again, maybe he’s here to tell me he’s been going to therapy. Maybe he’s trying to change, and we can have a healthy conversation.

  Tightening the belt on my robe, I swing open the door.

  “Hey, did I catch you at a bad time?” he asks.

  His hair is combed, and his white collared shirt is crisp. The bruising on his face has completely faded. He looks better. Li
ghter.

  He looks like my handsome husband.

  Can it really be?

  I step back and let him in. “No, I just took a bath. I’m heating up some food. Are you hungry?”

  He shakes his head. “No, but thank you. I saw Dan and Josie leaving with the kids when I got home from work. Figured I’d see if you were here. I really want to talk.”

  “I want to talk, too.” I gesture to the plush, cream-colored couches in the living room. “Let’s sit.”

  We lower ourselves onto separate cushions on the same couch. Paul reaches over and caresses my cheek with the back of his hand. “I miss you, Cal. You have no idea how much.”

  “I miss you, too.”

  And it’s not a lie. I miss the man I once fell in love with. I miss our good times. Our companionship.

  “You look good,” I say. “Have you been going to therapy?”

  His gaze drops to his lap. “Not yet. But I’ve made a list of a few places.”

  My heart sinks. “Oh.”

  “It’s been crazy at the office. I’ve been working long hours and on the weekends. I’m on a really important case right now.”

  I’m an important case.

  “So then why are you here?”

  His eyebrows dip down. “Because I miss you. I wanted to see where your head is at. I don’t think being apart from each other is the best thing for us.”

  I inch back. “I understand how you feel, but I don’t agree. Being apart is what’s best for me right now.”

  “This isn’t just about you, Callie. What about me?”

  I scoff. “Are you seriously asking that? After everything that happened, you’re worried about yourself?”

  His hands shoot up in front of him. “No, no. That’s not what I’m saying. Don’t twist my words.”

  “I’m not twisting anything.” I rise from the couch and start pacing. “You keep telling me how much you miss me and how much you want me to come home. Yet, you haven’t done the one thing I’ve asked you to do. You’re not making me a priority.”

  “Come on.” Paul stands and grips my forearms. “We’re both supposed to make each other a priority. I don’t see how what you’re doing is putting me first either.”

  I yank my arms out of his grasp. “We put each other first when we work on ourselves. You need help, Paul.”