“Please, Robyn, come back to the apartment now. I’m not fucking around; this is serious.”

I want to tell him to go fuck himself, that I’d rather risk it on my own and take my chances than spend five minutes in a room with him. But I don’t. Something inside of me won’t let me and I sigh in defeat. “I’ll be there in an hour.”

“Thank you,” he breathes and I disconnect the call before he has a chance to say anything else. Yeah, I was not at rock bottom, I think, throwing my towel around my shoulders and wiping my face. There’s always further for me to fall.

Callum’s apartment is quiet as I make my way through the empty living room and down the hall to my bedroom. It’s never quiet when he’s around; there’s always music playing, even if it’s so low that you barely register the noise.

He must be out, or sleeping.

I feel a little lighter, safe in the comfort that if he’s not around, I don’t need to witness him snubbing me. I make it as far as the bathroom door before he steps out and into my trajectory. Of course, he’s here. Why would I assume something could possibly work out in my favor?

“Sorry,” I mumble, stepping around him, my eyes planted firmly on the tops of my toes.

“Tweet.”

He grabs my elbow, twisting me around and forcing me to look at him. My skin instantly pebbles with goose bumps. I’ve never met anyone who can cause a physical reaction just by saying my name.

“Yeah?”

“I think we need to talk,” he says. His voice is even and doesn’t betray a single emotion. I can’t tell if he’s mad, sad, or indifferent. His blues don’t give away any clues either. His mouth is set in a straight line, his hair is still the messy perfection it always is, and I feel a flicker of hope in the pit of my stomach. Butterflies are beginning to take flight at the prospect that he looks completely unaffected, and I haven’t upset him to the level of disgust with which Cole viewed me. I almost let my shoulders relax until he shifts, and the light from the window illuminates his face, revealing dark shadows under his eyes, and my hope takes a tumble into the abyss.

“O-okay,” I stammer. I need to get changed and go meet Daniel, but he can wait. I owe Cal that much at least.

He doesn’t say a word as he turns and heads for his room, and I follow. I don’t know if that’s what he was intending for me to do, or if I was supposed to go wait for him in the living room. I walk behind, trying to reign in my nerves and imitate a sense of calmness I in no way feel at this moment. I step through his bedroom door and watch as he sits on the end of his bed and drops his head into his hands, pushing his fingers through his hair.

The curtains are still drawn, even though it’s almost 9:30 am. The bed is messy and his scent is everywhere. I breathe deeply, remembering the feel of those sheets beneath me, the texture of his skin moving against mine. I feel more stripped down and exposed now than any time I’ve ever stood on his stage and danced. He’s showered and dressed in faded jeans and a plain light grey Henley, which stretches over his hunched muscular shoulders. I’m shifting on my tired feet and I want to sit down, but the only option is to sit beside him on his bed. I don’t think I could handle the proximity.

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper.

“For what?” he asks in an exasperated huff and I wince at the coldness of it. “For sleeping with me while you were dating my brother, or for getting caught?”

“What? No, I mean, there was nothing to get caught at. I was never in a relationship with Cole. Yeah, he wanted to move it forward but I couldn’t; it didn’t feel right. I’d told you I was seeing someone, but it was casual. I didn’t lie about anything.”

His head snaps up at lightning speed, and I want to take a step back, but I don’t.

“You ‘re right, you didn’t lie. I guess you must have forgotten to mention that it was with my brother.”

“I didn’t know!” I plead. “Jesus, Callum, do you honestly think that little of me?” I wish I hadn’t asked because I’m terrified the answer will be yes.

I watch as he grips the edge of the bed and then looks back to me. “You honestly didn’t know?”

“Of course not.” I walk slowly to the bed and kneel on the floor in front of him, looking up into the storm clouds in his eyes. “I didn’t know that you two were related. I’m a lot of things—naïve, bolshie, a miserable bitch in the morning—but I’m not a liar, Cal. I promise.”

He almost smiles.

“This is pretty fucked up,” he says. “What happens now? Are you still going to see him? Does he even want that? I know I couldn’t do it if it were the other way around, knowing you’d slept with him.”

My stomach twists like I’ve been impaled with a blunt knife. His words hurt. “I’m pretty sure he hates me right now. It’s over; not that there was even that much to be done with in the first place,” I tell him. His head bobs in recognition of my admission, but he doesn’t address it any further. I think it possibly wounds me more than him telling me he couldn’t be with me if it were the other way around. Not that I expected anything less. I guess the truth can be brutal sometimes. I stand; I can’t be in here any longer knowing that he probably hates me too.

“Where are you going?” he asks as I reach the door.

“I have some things to take care of,” I tell him. “I’ll call Lucy, and she can help collect my things. I think I’ve outstayed my welcome. It’s best if I move out.” I don’t tell him that I’m headed back to my place now. Admitting I’m about to go meet up with Daniel would only fuel his animosity, I’m sure of it.

His eyes harden, and his nostrils flare but he doesn’t utter a word. He’s completely unmoving. I step over the threshold and close the door on him, and on what might have been something amazing if things weren’t so screwed up.

I’M A STUBBORN person by nature. I don’t ask for help, I don’t acknowledge when things are not going my way, and I lie to myself and everyone around me when they’re not, I even lie to those I love, telling them that everything is okay. Because if everybody else thinks I’m fine, if I’m lucky—just for a moment—I can forget that I’m not.

I’d forgotten her face. It hasn’t been that long, but I’d switched out my cell and didn’t transfer any of my pictures. I’ve stayed away from social media and hoped I’d be able to disappear quietly, unnoticed. Things weren’t great between us when I’d walked, but it had nothing to do with her. It was all me. And now standing in front of her, looking into those huge brown eyes that used to shine with nothing but love and admiration for me, I’m disgusted with myself. I put the hardness in them that’s replaced her tenderness; I scrubbed away her happy demeanor and left the sad, angry shell of a person that’s glaring at me now. She looks as though she’s willing the ground to open up beneath my feet, and is praying I plummet straight into hell. It’s justified, but I wasn’t prepared to feel this way. I’m sickened with myself. I deserve every bit of payback she could inflict, but it’s Robyn. She’s nothing but good, and I know it won’t come. I think that’s worse than her trying to hurt me.

“What do you have to say to me that you couldn’t say over the phone?” she asks, so low that I have to strain to hear her. She doesn’t sit; instead, she leans her back flush against the front door and crosses her arms, glaring at me from across the room.

I make a move to stand and she raises her hand.