Then to a house with me where I also treated her like shit. I’d been able to look past my own bad behavior because I believed I was justified. I fucking wasn’t. I was just being a version of what her ex had been.
Even though it hurt me more than anything, I thought I was doing the right thing.
And I wasn’t.
I had made a terrible fucking decision.
One I wasn’t sure I had the power to fix.
So I called the most powerful person I knew.
Calliope walked in the door with a sigh and a bottle of whisky.
“You fucked it up,” she said by greeting. “I normally love being right, but this time, I’ll admit, it stings.”
Her heels clicked as she walked to where I kept the glasses. Head in my hands, I heard the slosh of liquid followed by more clicking of heels.
I took the glass she offered me, downing it in one go. She was still holding the bottle, apparently right about the volume of booze I required too. She refilled it before sitting down.
“What do I do?” I asked after a second swallow. I wasn’t too proud to ask for help. Not now. I was desperate.
Calliope was kind enough not to look at me in pity. To the contrary, she scowled. “I don’t know, Beau. You’ve fucked up here. I make it a specialty in ruining men’s lives, and look atyou, doing it all on your own.” She shook her head. “You’ll just have to do two things men aren’t good at. Be patient and trust. Trust that Hannah is the kind of woman who can forgive a man who doesn’t entirely deserve it.” She patted my leg. “Not because you’re not a good man but because you hurt a good woman for no real good reason.”
I took another sip to chase off the burn of her words.
“And grovel,” she added. “When she’s ready for that. I wouldn’t suggest it now. Give her time. We’re not perfect. We love to sabotage our lives. But she loves you. She loves Clara. She’s smart enough to know how stupid a good man can be.”
“So I have a chance?” I asked, not bothering to try to mask the pathetic hope from my tone.
Calliope did look at me with pity then, which scared the shit out of me.
“I don’t know, buddy. I hope to fuck you do.”
I did too.
HANNAH
Lori opened the door with a hug.
Surprised, I dropped my bags, then I sank into it. We’d gotten closer in the past months. She was my only friend. My best friend. But I’d worried that that was fragile too. Something I could lose.
I’d never had another woman hold me before. Never invited to experience a kind of comfort that felt real.
And it felt nice. To have somewhere to land when my heart was shattered. I hadn’t had that before. Told myself I didn’t need it when I left Waylon. That I had the strength to pick myself up.
But I had quickly come to understand the importance of girlfriends. Because they made sure you didn’t have to pick yourself up. They caught you.
Lori pulled back, wiping my tears. “I have junk food andThe Mummyready to go.”
“The Mummy?” I sniffled, thinking back to the first time we met. When I was unaware of the happiness that awaited me. And the loss.
She nodded with a wink. “And champagne, if you feel like drinking your troubles away.”
She reached down to get my bags. “I’ve got your room set up. You can stay as long as you want. It’s a wonderful excuse to kick Finn out,” she added with a wry grin. Then the grin fell. “Not that’s it’s wonderful that you’re here?—”
“It’s okay,” I interrupted her. “Thank you,” I whispered, my voice shaking.
She reached out to squeeze my hand.
