I closed my eyes tight and then opened them again, hoping that once I did, Callum would be back, lying in bed, his strong arms wrapped around me tightly, holding me close the way he had during the night. But of course it didn’t work. When I opened my eyes, Callum was still gone. The apartment seemed even starker in the daytime, only serving to highlight the fact that it was just a place he went to fuck. And I was just a girl who had fallen for it. The sadness rolled out of my body slowly, like it was being taken out with the tide, replaced with a scorching anger. At him. At myself. There was a line Maya Angelou had made famous. “When someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time.” It meant that if someone showed you who they were, that you needed to believe them.
