Coming back to Calum's house after two weeks leaves me desperate to run right back to where I came from. Even though I know Zachariah and Emmie aren't here, my mind goes into overdrive imagining the two of them waiting for me behind those doors, and I replay the events of the last time I was here on a loop.

I seriously debate going through with it when he opens the front door and I'm caught, deer in the headlights.

"Nice try, Alex."

As soon as I'm within arm's length, he pulls me in for a hug and there's an apology he's trying to convey through the embrace. It feels silly he expects it needs to be given. With all that Calum has done for me over the years, he shouldn't feel guilty about an unfortunate oversight. I knew the possibility of what I was getting myself into when I went to the party, and I have to live with the consequences of that choice myself.

"Glad you called me back." He motions for me to go inside.

"Did you think I wouldn't?"

Calum shrugs his shoulders and nudges me forward. "Hard to tell with you sometimes. Wouldn't blame you if you hadn't."

I kick my slippers off next to his doormat and tiptoe into the house. It's nothing like it was a couple of weeks ago. Now that it's no longer crowded, it feels more like a home.

After disappearing into the kitchen for a couple of minutes, he reemerges with a beer for each of us. The fact that it's not even noon yet doesn't bother me.

"I almost don't recognize this place without the smell of vodka on my face," I deadpan as I get a better view of the house. When I see him wince, I regret making the joke. It sounded more innocent in my head. "I'm kidding. I'm happy for you."

He allows himself to smile, even if he looks like he's walking on eggshells around me. The sight of him being careful around me leaves a sour taste in my mouth, one that has nothing to do with my distaste for beer.

Calum and I aren't awkward around each other, nor do we shy away from the hard-to-swallow conversations. I hate that I've reduced one of the rawest friendships I've had to this.

"I need to explain what happened last time you were here," he dictates with purpose.

"You don't have to—"

"No, I do. I was stupid," he articulates with authority. "I know you don't like people bringing him up around you so I thought I could get by with him staying away for the night but he came home sooner than he was supposed to." Calum looks down at his hands twisting around the bottle, the condensation dripping onto his bitten nails. "Emmie and Heather being there at the same time made everything shittier. I should have either planned that way better or asked if you wanted to come over another day that was more comfortable for you. This is me owning up to my mistake."

There's a lot to unravel, most of it things I've already gone over a thousand times in my head, but I focus on one part of his apology. "Is he living with you?"

Calum flinches and I watch his Adam's apple bob. "Until he can find his own place."

The sigh I release isn't out of anger. It'd be foolish to get angry with Calum because he's one of the few friends that's never turned his back on me, even when I deserved it.

It's mostly because I'm so tired. Tired of carrying this burden in my heart that sends me into nightmares night after night where I sink to the bottom of the ocean and can't find my way back up to the surface. Tired of feeling like the whole world is looking down at me as I bury my body in the depths of my own grave. Tired of pretending like the feelings don't still linger in my broken heart.

"It would've been nice to know," I murmur, unsure if the words are reaching him or if they're in my head. "But I don't blame you. I haven't been the easiest person to talk to lately."

It's like something in him breaks. He places the bottle he's nursing on the coffee table and leans forward in his seat, resting his elbows on his knees. I know I'm supposed to mentally prepare for the wisdom he's about to drop, but I can't muster enough energy. It feels like I'm just standing there, waiting for the wave to crash into me and pull me under.

"What the hell happened to you, Alex?" he pushes out angrily. Whether it's because of me or his guilt, I'm unsure. "Sometimes I feel like you're doing better and then you have days like this where I feel like I'm talking to a ghost."

I fight the urge to contract further into myself. "It isn't the first time I've disconnected."

He rejects the explanation, with good reason. Calum knows the difference between me pre and post-fall out. "This is different. I know what's normal for you. I can handle you crashing into us and then pulling back every once in a while. But this"—he gestures at me —"is someone else."

I look away; he's right more often than he's wrong. There's no use fighting that.

"You promised me you'd tell me if things changed." His voice is softer this time, gentler.

"We were talking about us fucking."

He rolls his eyes. Calum has never backed down from standing toe-to-toe with me. I'm not as intimidating as I'd like to think I am. "It wasn't just about us fucking. I was never going to be a part of your self-destructive behavior."

"Is that what you think this is?" I ask. "You think coming here is me trying to make you an accomplice to my self-destruction? I think you know me better than that, Cal."

"And I think we've been friends long enough that I see through your bullshit."

For a second, I consider giving in to the itch to walk right out of that house and never come back. It's not even because Calum is hitting me right where he knows the most damage will be done. He's right. We've known each other too long for me to get away with whatever it is I came here to do.

It's the jacket I see hanging on the barstool just in view from the kitchen. I don't need to go over there to know that it smells like cigarettes, Tom Ford cologne, and a sprinkle of cinnamon and sugar from Leonard's Bakery malasadas. I don't need to hold it in my hands and know what the worn leather feels like, and how it curves perfectly around his body as if it was made just for him. If I close my eyes hard enough, I can still feel it all right in front of me again.

"I'm not doing it because I want to."

"I know."

"I just don't know what else to do." This time I'm the one that looks down at my weathered hands. There's a small droplet of blood where I've been picking at my dry cuticles. "I feel like every step I take comes with two giant leaps back. And having both of them here doesn't help."

Calum shakes his head. "I'm not here to discredit Emmie being hurt by what happened but they were broken up for so long before you and—" he stops himself. It only makes me feel more pathetic that people can't even say his name around me. Since when does someone's name have this much power over someone else? Over me? "Before it all happened. You can't beat yourself up this badly because of it."

"Just because they were broken up doesn't make the betrayal hurt any less. There's a basic code of conduct when it comes to friends, Cal, and it means not falling for their ex behind their back."

Calum looks defeated when he drops his head in his hands.

"You have to forgive yourself eventually," he muffles through his fingers as he drags them down his face.

"I don't know if I can ever do that."

He peeks up at me. "Why? Because then you'll have to admit that you love him?"

"Loved," I correct.

This eye roll is well deserved. "Keep telling yourself that."

"I will."

Calum leans back in his seat and looks slightly less frustrated. It's probably because he knows how stubborn I can be with admitting how I feel, so he's given up.

"I don't want you to leave with us arguing," he tells me as he picks his beer back up.

I stretch out and look around the room. "How long did you tell Zach to make himself scarce?"

"Until I text him that it's okay to come back."

I grab the remote from the coffee table. When I flip the television on, I pull up his Netflix account. "Hopefully he listens this time."

With how much effort it took to convince myself to come here today, I might as well take full advantage of the drive over. And getting to spend time with one of my favorite people on the planet isn't a terrible way to spend the day either.

"My day's wide open so if you're down we can waste away all day."

Calum lets out a sigh before standing up and stretching. "Sounds good to me."

He makes his way around like he's going back to the kitchen when his footsteps stop. I feel his hand push hair back from my forehead where he places a gentle kiss. Before he goes, I place my hand over his and let myself pretend I'm not stuck in this emotional turmoil tearing me apart for the past year and a half.

"Sorry for letting you get ambushed," he apologizes.

"Sorry for being an annoying friend."

He taps me once on the forehead before standing back up. "Don't worry, I'm used to it."

The pillow I try to throw at him falls sadly to the floor and his laugh disappears along with him into the kitchen.