When I get outside, the sky is still dark, but the storm seems to have settled. No more lightning splitting the sky above us, and no more thunder rattling the world. Just solid, heavy rain.
There's a peacefulness to it, like a necessary cleansing.
"Paul," I call out, striding over to him, still covered under the awning shielding us from the rain. He stops immediately, his hand pausing from where it was pulling his hood over his head. I can see his body stiffen before he turns to me, his face looking pale and drained.
"Callum."
"Why'd you do that?" I ask once I'm in front of him.
It takes a minute for him to answer as his face twists, something like pain crossing his features before it softens.
His lips curve into a small, sad grin as he answers, "I'm...loving Sophie the way she needs to be loved."
The answer is raw and truthful.
Loving her the way she needs to be loved, by doing what's best for her, even when it hurts.
Do you want to be right or do you want to be happy?
That's... well, that's just how love is supposed to be. That's always how I've understood it, from my mom and dad. Showing up when it's hard, staying when it's harder, and putting aside your own feelings to do what's best for them.
Like my dad used to tell me, love is about honesty, putting aside ego, putting aside feelings like jealousy and fear.
As my mom says, it's all about patience and balance.
And I guess Paul finally understands that.
"When she's better," he starts, tentatively. "Could you ask her if... she would speak to me. Just once. If she doesn't want to, that's fine, but I would—" his eyes close, and a tear slips down his cheek. He inhales sharply and exhales slowly. "I would just like to give her the apology she deserves."
I study him for a moment, this person breaking apart in front of me. I don't necessarily feel bad for him. No friendship or forgiveness is blooming in my chest. I don't really feel anything but pity for this man who seems to be drowning in his own regret. I can clearly see how much effort it took him to ask me this question, and it's not my place to answer him for her.
However, I will always protect Sophie's heart first, so I need to know—
"Are you still seeing that woman?"
He blinks, frowning in confusion for a second before his eyes widen."Elise?"
Even hearing her name makes my lip curl, disgust rolling in my stomach. "Yeah. Her."
"No," Paul shakes his head. "No, I haven't... no, I'm not seeing her anymore."
"You sure? Because she came to my store and was—" I trail off, the rage rising inside of me when I think of that day. The words she spoke to Sophie, and how she looked at her, as if she were lower than dirt. "She was so goddam cruel to Sophie, like she did something wrong by existing. She tried to get me to fall into bed with her like it was that easy."
Paul's entire body jolts like I just punched him—though if I actually wanted to hit him, he wouldn't be vertical anymore—and his whole face goes white. For a moment, I wonder if he's going to throw up. I take a half-step back just in case.
"I—I didn't know," he stammers, horrified. "God. I'm so sorry. I didn't think she would—fuck—I didn't think..."
I bite out before I can stop myself. "You never really think ahead, do you?"
Paul blinks, his face going blank for a second before he laughs, the sound sharp and empty. "Yeah, I really don't. I'm working on it. In therapy."
"Good," I say simply. "Keep at it. I'll ask Sophie when she's better. I won't stress her out further when she's focused on healing."
With that, I'm done with Paul.
I turn toward the entrance, ready to go back inside, but Paul calls out behind me.
"Callum," he calls out, halting me. Looking back at him, I see him shift from foot to foot uncomfortably. "I know I wasn't the... greatest friend to you—"
