Chapter 23

Callie

On Tuesday morning, Isaiah and I ran through our regular administration routine, and I threw myself into my work. I was relieved the offices were closed on Tuesdays, and I only had a couple to deal with for a cake tasting later. I couldn’t face a whole lot of happily ever afters right now, not when I knew that someone’s entire life with Grayson’s sister had been ruined.

Just thinking about it made me feel sick again. Whenever I thought about Jenna and everything Grayson and Carter had lost, I felt horrible. To think that they’d lost someone so special made my heart ache for them.

Knowing about the accident had also brought back my own.

The wedding conference had been fantastic. I flew to Dallas every year to attend the conferences, keeping up to date with the newest fashions and fads. Seeing so many other coordinators reminded me what a big deal it was to plan a wedding, and I loved being able to relate to the people around me for a change. Back home, I was the only person I knew who wasn’t stuck in a regular nine-to-five.

The night was falling fast, and I wanted to get to the motel I’d booked. I had booked much too late to get proper accommodation, and I wouldn’t have made it if it hadn’t been for a couple who’d canceled on me at the last minute. It had been a quick wedding, and I had put off the conference for them, but they bailed on me and eloped instead. So, the motel would have to do. It wasn’t the worst place I could have been holed up in if it wasn’t for how far it was outside of town.

My headlights sliced through the night, two bright beacons that lit up the road. The road wasn’t busy, with more cars going into town than out of it. The headlights from the front came one after the other.

Movement caught my eye, and the next moment, a car swerved into my lane. The bright lights blinded me for a second before I heard tires squealing. Everything slowed down. I felt the impact as the cars hit. I heard the explosion that deployed the airbag, and the plastic of my steering wheel burst open, the fragments cutting my arms. The bag blew into my face and stopped me from hitting the steering wheel. Everything happened so slowly, and still, I couldn’t stop a single thing. My window broke from the impact, and glass hit my head.

I must have blacked out. When I opened my eyes again, I was strapped to a gurney and being wheeled to an ambulance. A paramedic asked me if I knew who I was. I lifted my head, and it hurt like hell. I caught a glimpse of another ambulance with another gurney. The body was so bloody, I could barely make out the face, but the paramedics were running for the ambulance, so the person hadn’t died.

“Callie Scott,” I said.

“All right, Callie. You’ve been in an accident. You suffered severe injuries to your head, so you’re going to have to keep still.”

The moment the paramedic told me I had been hurt, my head started throbbing.

“She’s bleeding out,” the paramedic shouted, and they scrambled to stop the blood again. When they loaded me into the ambulance, the paramedic talking to me all the way to keep me awake when I wanted to fade away, a thought crossed my mind that I wouldn’t have to sleep in the shitty motel after all.

“Callie?” Isaiah asked, snapping me out of my spiraling memories. I realized I was pressing my fingers against the scar above my ear. The glass had sliced me right down to my scalp, and hair still didn’t grow on the ridge of skin. It wasn’t possible to see now that my hair was long again, but I knew it was there.

“What’s going on with you?” Isaiah asked.

I shook my head. “Nothing,” I said. “I was just thinking about,” I glanced at my screen and realized I had been typing up an email, “this quote.”

“Right,” Isaiah said, and it was clear he didn’t believe me. “You’ve been weird all morning. What happened?”

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“Nothing happened.”

It was the understatement of the year.

Isaiah sat down in front of me, crossing his leg over the other. He was here to stay, and the face he gave me suggested he wasn’t going to let it go until I told him.

“I found out something about Grayson that makes me not want to face him or Carter again,” I said.

“That’s big,” Isaiah said. “What was it?”

I shook my head. “I don’t want to talk about it if you don’t mind. It’s not really my secret to tell.” It was eating me alive, bringing back horrible memories, and putting me in a perpetually bad mood, but I wasn’t going to tell.

“This is obviously bothering you. A lot,” Isaiah said.

Sometimes I hated how much Isaiah knew about me, how well he could read me.

“I’ll get over it,” I said.

The phone rang, and I answered it, relieved about the escape. I listened to the bride, drawing out the conversation, making it as long as possible. I hoped Isaiah would get bored and leave, but when I hung up, he was still sitting in the armchair waiting.

“You’re trying to avoid the topic,” he pointed out. “You can’t hide behind your work forever.”

Watch me, I wanted to say, but I bit my tongue.

“Look,” Isaiah carried on. “I know you don’t want to talk about it, and that’s your business. But from a business perspective, will it ruin the wedding?”

I thought about Carter and that his previous marriage had been ruined. I shook my head.

“It won’t ruin the wedding,” I said. “Only my life.”

“Oh my God,” Isaiah exclaimed. “That’s so intense. Are you sure?”

I nodded. I was positive it would ruin everything for me if it came out. I couldn’t help but run through every scenario where Grayson or Carter found out what I was feeling.

“Can I offer advice?” Isaiah asked.

Advice sounded safer than questions.

“Of course,” I said.

“I don’t know what’s bothering you, but you need to talk about it. I don’t care who you talk to, but you have to get it off your chest. If it’s bothering you this much, you need to get it out. Save yourself years of therapy.”

Maybe it was too late. Maybe I already needed therapy. But Isaiah was right. I needed to talk to someone and get it out. Wasn’t it what I had thought about Grayson too? He had talked about what was bothering him, and I’d seen the difference in him. But he had been a victim. If I had been a victim, maybe it would have been different. But I hadn’t been. I blamed myself for the accident that had happened, the death of the other driver when I’d had a chance to live, and the knowledge of what had happened to Grayson only brought it all back.

“Just be safe, okay?” Isaiah looked worried. “I don’t mean physically, either. Take care of yourself emotionally.”

I nodded. I had to take care of myself. I understood that. But how did I deal with this? I had barely managed to handle it the first time. Now, it felt so much worse.

“What time is my meeting tonight?” I asked, hoping to steer the conversation away from what might be bothering me.

“Fine, change the topic,” Isaiah said, looking a little hurt. “It’s at seven.”

I nodded. “I do appreciate your advice, Isaiah,” I said. “But until I can deal with it, it’s easier to push it away.”

“That’s always dangerous,” Isaiah said.

And he was right. I had seen it firsthand with Grayson. But it was so much easier to judge someone else for not being able to deal with their issues than it was to face the music yourself. I could tell Grayson I would be there for him, that he just needed to get it out. But now that it was the other way around? How was I going to deal with it now? It was the epitome of hypocrisy.

“Why don’t you take an early day?” I asked Isaiah. “You’ve been working so hard.”

Isaiah shook his head. “You don’t have to pretend to reward me when you don’t want me around,” he snapped. “But seeing that you’re offering a bit of paid leave, why not?”

Isaiah stood up and stormed out of the office. I wanted to call him back and apologize, but the truth was, I was relieved he was gone. I wanted to be alone. I couldn’t handle his sage advice and what a good friend he was trying to be.

I worked until it was time to leave for the meeting. I didn’t go home to eat or shower. I left the office to go straight to the caterer that was doing the wedding cake.

The couple was already there, and it was the classic scenario where the bride was excited and the groom was a little out of place. The couples often decided to do the cake tasting together, one of the few things where the bride could get the groom involved. Usually, the groom wasn’t nearly as involved in the planning as Carter was.

“How are you doing tonight?” I asked the couple. The bride beamed at me. The groom looked nervous.

We entered the shop that had already closed for the day but stayed open for us after hours. It was one of the caterers I often recommended to my couples, so they did me favors like this because I brought them their business.

“We have red velvet here, lemon poppy here, chocolate with a buttercream filling, and this is vanilla-caramel. The red velvet is the most popular.”

I watched the caterer hand the small cakes to the couple. They were beautifully prepared and presented. I watched as the couple tasted the cakes and discussed them. The bride preferred the red velvet. The groom loved the lemon poppy seed, and because he was so decided, she went with it. I was relieved. It wasn’t often that the grooms were sure about what they wanted and that the bride humored him.

I wanted to be happy for them. I wanted to feel like it was another job well done. Instead, I felt like I wanted to go home. Tonight, I was tired of the idea of happily ever after. I was brutally aware that sometimes, it just didn’t happen.

“What do you think, Callie?” the bride asked, turning to me.

“I think the lemon poppy is a great choice. And it fits with your color scheme and the design of the cake.”

The caterer produced photos she had drawn up with the design, and the couple fussed over it.

“I’m so sorry to do this,” I said, interrupting them. “I feel quite sick. Would you mind if I begged off tonight? It looks like you’re on top of this. You don’t need me tonight.”

“Of course,” the bride said, looking worried. “I hope it’s nothing serious.”

It was more serious than anyone could imagine.

“I’ll be fine in the morning, I’m sure,” I said. “I’ll keep my phone nearby in case you need me. Call whenever.”

The bride hugged me and made me feel better. I confirmed with the caterer that they didn’t need me and headed out into the night, relieved to be away from everything that usually made me so happy.