The Choice (a Painful Past)

170

So, I clicked the first one, sent shortly after Sherri and Shawn had arrived, according to the time stamp.

"What the FUCK do you think you're doing letting HIM be around Ben?? I have NEVER forced Kelly on him! Out of respect to you! That's fucked up, Callie. I can't believe you would stoop so low, just to make me jealous!" My hands started shaking, making it a little difficult to tap the next text.

"Oh, I guess you're ignoring me now, huh? Too busy being a whore for the only guy who wants you."

The shaking intensified. My chest was tightening so much, I thought I may be having a heart attack.

Still, I clicked the next text.

"You're such a BITCH! After everything we've been through, you don't have the decency to text me back?! FUCK YOU CALLIE! I'M SO GLAD WE'RE OVER." Then, the next one. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean it. Any of it. It just took me by surprise, seeing you with him. I can't stand that prick. I still love you, Cal. You must know that. Can we talk?"

I wasn't doing anything wrong, staying at the motel with Sam, Colby, and Nate. Nothing. But I felt so ashamed all of a sudden.

I kept going through the texts, unable to help myself. The more I read, the more my hands shook.

There were dozens of texts, ranging from calling me a nasty whore and bad mother, to him being sorry, loving me and wanting to talk.

"Why were you even at the liquor store? You don't drink! I guess you suddenly drink just because he wants you to, huh? You're such a lying bitch."

"You know that I only got with Kelly because you wouldn't take me back. I would rather be with you than her. Will you please talk to me?"

"FUCK YOU THEN BITCH! YOU TURN MY SON AGAINST ME AND THEN YOU TURN INTO A SHITTY MOTHER. I HOPE YOU CHOKE TO DEATH ON HIS DICK!" Those were the last three texts sent, with the final one being about 15 minutes ago.

I didn't even know that I was crying yet again, until the tears splashed down onto my phone. It was too much. After tearing open those old wounds again and pouring them out for Colby, dealing with Will's back and forth bullshit was just too much!

Anxiety took me, stealing my breath, and my ability to stand. My legs collapsed under me, sending me to my knees. The force would've had me yelling out in pain, if I could breathe.

Instead, I fell over and hugged my knees to my chest, as tightly as I could. Each gasping breath, that I forced into my lungs, burned like a hot poker scraping down the sides of my throat. Black dots swam in front of my eyes, so I squeezed them shut.

I was so fucking stupid and weak.

Why should I care what he thinks? I wasn't a whore.

I wasn't a bad mother...was I?

Would people think that I was, since I was technically in a motel room with three guys, while my son was at someone else's house? I knew that Will would spread this story like wildfire, without even knowing that I was with more than one guy. He was going to drag my name through the mud, just like he always had.

Even when we were together, he blamed everything on me when he was around other people.

Oh, you guys didn't come over last weekend? Yeah, sorry, Callie was being a bitch. She thinks she's too good to hang out with you guys.

I didn't know what I was anymore. Maybe I was exactly who he said I was. Maybe that was the image that I portrayed to the world.

God, my chest was hurting so badly. I wanted to forget that I even existed. I didn't want to check out of this life, because I had Ben and Mom to take care of, but I needed one fucking night where I didn't have to think! I just wanted a fucking break from thinking!

From dealing with the consequences of who I was and the choices that I had made. I couldn't even have that. Fuck it.

I concentrated on slowing my breathing, like my therapist had taught me, and zeroed in on things that I could see, touch, feel, and smell. One at a time, trying to breath normally, while I did so. Eventually the aching, gasping breaths lengthened until I could actually breathe again.

It felt like it took forever, but once I thought I was in control, I stood shakily to my feet and tried to go back inside the room. Only the door was locked, and I didn't have a key.

"Shit." I muttered under my breath.

I was hoping that I could just go inside and straight to the bathroom to try and control the way crying had made my face look. Instead, I was going to have to knock and try to explain, because I knew they would ask. I rapped my knuckles against the door, sharply, and leaned against the stucco style wall, until someone opened it.

Colby.

It would be him.

"Hey, I was just about to come- what's wrong?"

Why was it, every time someone asked me what was wrong, I would start crying?? Damn it.

Tears started to fall from my eyes again, so I looked down and shook my head.

"Nothing." I whispered. "Just got locked out. I need to use the bathroom."

I saw his feet move to let me in, so I stepped past him and headed to the bathroom.

Then, he grabbed my hand, stopping me. I tried to pull free, but he held tight.

"Please let me go." I begged him, not daring to look up.

I couldn't stop the fall of these stupid ass, weak ass tears. He loosened his grip, but he didn't let go.

Panic started seeping back through, when old memories of Will holding me too tightly resurfaced.

"Are you okay, Callie?" Colby asked, softly.

I nodded again and tried to pull free. He let my hand slip from his, this time. I walked as fast as I could to the bathroom and shut the door harder than I intended to.

I splashed cold water on my face, over and over again, but it didn't help, because the tears wouldn't stop. I was braced on the sink, so I looked up at my reflection finally.

The girl in the mirror looked completely destroyed. Her eyes were vacant, almost dead, filled with so much pain, I couldn't hold her gaze. Her face had red splotches on it from crying so hard, and dark smudges under her eyes from the smeared makeup.

There was a light knock on the door, followed by Colby's soft voice.

"Cal? Can I do anything to help?"

I took a deep breath to make sure that my own voice was steady. "No. I'm fine." I replied.

He was quiet for so long, I began to think that he had walked away.

While I was wetting a rag with cold water to put on my swollen face, I heard him again.

"No, you're not. Take your time though. I'll be here when you come out." I sighed and pushed down the pain from hearing his dejected voice.

He couldn't help me. No one could. I was too fucked up.