His Red Carnation (Forbidden Blooms #1)

28. Callan

28

Callan

I couldn’t tell what hurt more—the fact that the love of my life doubted my character, or that even I was starting to doubt myself. I had been so certain I hadn’t done it, but the mere fact that I blacked out that night made me question everything. What if I did hurt her? What kind of man would that make me? And what would Sloane think? What would she do? Would she leave me? Would she forgive me? Could I even forgive myself? The guilt from that time in my life consumed me—what if I really did hurt Sarah? What the fuck would I do then?

After a few minutes of sulking in the bathroom, I heard the front door open and close. I knew that Sloane had left. Fucking Ana . I knew it wasn’t fair to be angry at her, but I was. As I spiraled with my fucking guilt, I dialed her. She answered after a few rings.

“Callan,” she said, surprise clear in her voice.

“Guess where Sloane and I are right now? Baltimore. Wanna know why?” I paused for a moment, but continued. “Sloane thinks I fucking did it. She thinks I’d hurt someone like that.” I began to cry, the phone shaking in my hand as I brought my elbows to my knees, trying to pull myself together.

“Oh, Callan,” Ana replied softly. “She doesn’t think that. You know what I think? I think she wants to talk to Sarah to clear your name. She wants to make this right.”

I scoffed. “Nah. She thinks I’m a piece of shit. And Sarah does too. I know what she’s gonna say, and everything’s gonna end because she’s a fucking liar,” I spat out. “Or maybe she’s not. Maybe I did fucking hurt her because I can’t remember.” Tears welled up again. The amount of crying I’d done in the past week made my head fucking spin—it was more than I’d ever cried in my life.

“Do you really think that, Callan? You think you did that?” Ana asked with frustration.

“No,” I immediately replied. “I don’t fucking know anymore.”

Ana sighed on the other end. “Sloane loves you, Cal.” The softness of her voice returned. “You know that much is true.”

“Yeah, but for how long? She’s on her way to Sarah right now. I’m at a fucking Red Roof Inn, sobbing in a tiny fucking hotel room. What the fuck am I supposed to do while she’s gone?” I stood up and began to pace, and the urge to drink was stronger than ever.

“Stay on the line with me. Tell me about what you and Sloane have been doing.”

Did she know how close I was to relapse again?

“I don’t know if you want that information, Ana,” I said with a small, embarrassed laugh.

“ Ay, dios mio. ” She laughed in return. “I mean, what else? Tell me what you love about Sloane.” She was trying to distract me, and it was working.

I sighed and sat down on the armchair in the corner of the room. “I love her laugh. I love how when her smile gets real big, that little dimple comes out on the side of her cheek. I love how smart she is. She fucking corrects me all the time, and I love it. I love how she makes me feel. She makes me feel like I’m not a piece of shit. She makes all of this fucking worth it,” I said in one long breath. “And I don’t know what I’m gonna do without her,” I choked out.

“Callan, don’t jump to conclusions,” she responded. “Don’t write this all off just yet.”

She was right; I had jumped to conclusions before, and I fucking relapsed. Running a hand through my hair, I sat back and took deep breaths. Then, I did what I should have done before—I called my sponsor.