Easy Melody(56)

I’ll pick them up eventually.

I fall into my bed, pull the covers up to my chin, turn on my side and let the tears come. I’ve screwed everything up. Declan is so uncomfortable around me that he can’t even look at me, let alone touch me. He doesn’t want me around tonight, and I always go back to his place after work.

I’ve stayed in this room maybe a half a dozen nights since I started seeing Declan. So the fact that the tension was so thick I could cut it with a knife, and he doesn’t want me at his house, says that this is pretty much over between us.

And, oh, how it hurts.

My whole body aches as I cry it out, and when I’ve shed all the tears I have inside me, I start to get a little mad.

Or a lot mad.

I’ve had to walk on eggshells around men my whole life. I refuse to do it now. If Declan can’t handle my feelings, that’s not my problem, and I can’t regret telling him that I love him, because I do. So much.

I have to be true to myself. I deserve that, and damn it, I’m going to keep being honest with myself and everyone else in my life. I’m done *footing around.

So screw Declan and his weird mood and his brushing me off.

I guess the bathroom is going to get scrubbed after all.

I climb out of bed, throw on my ragged old sweats and a T-shirt, fill my trusty bucket and get to work on the bathroom.

By the time Adam rolls through the door approximately three hours later, the rest of the condo shines.

“You’re here,” he says in surprise. His eyelids are heavy, his clothes rumpled, and his hair a mess from someone’s fingers.

“Nothing wrong with your eyes,” I reply, finally tired.

“And judging by the smell and look of the place, last night didn’t go well, huh?”

I sigh and shake my head, rinsing out the bucket. “No, it didn’t.”

“Wanna talk about it?” he asks with a yawn. He scratches his chest.

“No. I really don’t, Adam. But thanks.”

“Wanna snuggle?” he offers as he hugs me, but I can smell another woman on him, and although he isn’t mine, I still don’t like it.

“No, you smell like sex,” I say, pulling away.

“I’ll shower.”

“I really want to be left alone.”

He nods. “Okay. I’m sorry, Cal.”

I shrug. “You win some and you lose some.”

Despite the exhaustion, sleep doesn’t come easy. I toss and turn for what feels like hours before I get up and take an allergy pill that isn’t non-drowsy, and then when I do sleep, it’s fitful.

I dream of Declan, but he’s mean. He’s laughing at me as he takes another woman by the hand and walks away from me. I don’t know who the girl is, and it doesn’t matter. He wants her and not me.

Then Keith is there, saying, “I told you I’d never love you, Callie. You’re fun, but not the kind of girl someone loves.”

I shake my head, trying to run away, but my feet won’t move. Why won’t they move? I can hear people laughing, but my head is heavy. I can’t look up from my feet. I can only see lots of feet, of people standing close together, and they’re laughing.

Finally, I fight to raise my head, and everyone’s there. Adam, my father, Declan and all of his family. Keith, and the people I used to work with in Denver.

And they’re all laughing at me. I’m so embarrassed. I want to run, but my feet still won’t move, and when I look back down, I’m naked. Oh, my God! Why am I naked?

I push away from a brick wall that’s just appeared, and I slowly float into the air, but my feet are heavy, and I land just a short hop away, but there’s a pole, and I try to hide behind it.

Holy shit, I’m naked! And they’re laughing. And I can’t get away.

I’m sweating, and Adam keeps saying, “Stop it, Callie.” But then he laughs again, and points at me. My face is wet. Is it raining?

“Callie.”

I’m shaken awake, and Adam is in the bed with me, holding me against him. “Come on, baby, wake up now.”

“Stop laughing at me,” I whimper, hating the weakness in my voice. The sun is up, shining in my window. I forgot to pull the blinds when I went to bed.

And Adam is wrapped around me. He took a shower, because he smells clean. I burrow into him, crying harder than I have in years as his hands rub circles on my back and he kisses my head.

“It’s okay, sweetie. You’re okay. It was just a dream.”

“It was horrible.”

“Shhh.” He’s brushing my hair back from my face. Half of it is stuck to both dried and wet tears on my face, and it feels good when he brushes it back. “Just a dream.”

“So cruel.”

“Who, baby?”

“Everybody.” The tears come harder. “Laughing at me. Telling me that I’m not lovable.”

“Well, that’s a load of shit,” he says and kisses my forehead. “Because I love you.”

“I love you too,” I whisper. God, it feels good to hear someone say it. “I feel so ashamed.”

“For loving me? No need, I’m lovable too.”

“No,” I say, smiling despite myself. “Because of Declan.”

“Stop it right now, Callie.” He takes my chin in his hand and tilts my head back so he can see my face. “Stop beating yourself up. Calm down and go back to sleep for a few hours.”