Stolen Identity: Mute Heiress-Chapter 206: You’re A Coward

Emily’s heart raced as she knocked on Callan’s bedroom door with one hand, while she held the tray and balanced it against her body with the other arm.

When there was no response she knocked again and called out, "Callan?"

Callan still did not respond, so she opened the door, and walked in. She looked around the room and when she didn’t see him, it occurred to her that he was in the bathroom.

She decided to set the food on his nightstand and leave, but just as she was setting down the tray, something caught her attention.

It was the white unicorn figurine she had gifted him six years ago. She smiled, glad to see that he had kept it all this while and it was beside his bed.

Her heart clenched when memories of what had happened between them shortly after came back to her, and she shook her head. 𝘧𝑟𝑒𝑒𝘸𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝓁.𝘤𝘰𝓂

No. Keeping it by his bedside wasn’t a big deal. She could only imagine the number of times he had brought ladies into this room and how much immorality the poor figurine had witnessed.

Did he ever think of her each time he brought a girl over and saw the figurine? Did it remind him of what had happened between them? Or was it just a fancy piece of art to him?

She turned to leave but her eyes fell on the several bottles of pills beside the figurine and she frowned as she let her curiosity get the best of her and she went around the bed to see what the pills were meant for.

She bent down and picked up three of the bottles. Her brows pulled together when she saw they were different sleeping pills.

Were his nightmares so bad that he needed to take sleeping pills? Just what did he dream about? She wondered.

Just then, the bathroom door opened, and Callan stepped out.

His hair was damp, and he wore only sweatpants. A white towel was thrown over his shoulder.

When he saw Emily standing there beside his bed, holding the pill bottles, he stopped. His eyes darkened. His whole body became very still.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice low.

Emily’s cheeks turned red. She quickly put the bottles back on the nightstand and stepped away. "I...I was just..." She trailed off, her heart beating fast as she looked away from him.

"You were snooping," Callan said. His face looked hard like a wall.

"No!" she said quickly, shaking her head. "I—I brought you dinner," she said, pointing at the tray she had set down. "But then I...I saw these and I got worried. I’m sorry, Callan." She swallowed, feeling small. "I was just wondering why you need so many pills."

Callan walked over to her slowly. His feet made no sound on the floor. The towel slipped from his shoulder to the floor, but he didn’t pick it up. He stopped right in front of her. He looked down at the bottles and then back at her face.

"It’s not your business," he said softly. But even though his voice was quiet, it felt like a slap.

Emily’s eyes stung. She wished she hadn’t picked up the bottles. She wished she had left right after putting down the tray.

"I know it’s not," she murmured, looking at him. "But I care about you, Callan. You shouldn’t have to take all this."

Callan’s jaw tightened when he saw the concern in her eyes. "Why should you care about a jerk like me? I’m a jerk, remember? Don’t tell me you haven’t learned your lesson after all these while..."

"Shut up, you stupid idiot!" Emily snapped, seeing that he was trying to annoy her again like he did in the morning.

He wanted her to get angry so they would fight and she wouldn’t ask him any questions. "What is wrong with you? Yea, you are a jerk! You’ve been one from the very first time we met, but that hasn’t stopped me from caring about an asshole like you, God knows why. Do you think I want to care about you? Do you even think I like that I care about you?" she yelled angrily.

"Then don’t!" He yelled back. She wouldn’t be the first to not care or stop caring, anyway. "If you hate it so much, stop. I never asked you to care about me."

Emily took a deep breath, determined not to lose her temper. "Well, you didn’t have to ask me to care, and I obviously can’t help it either, so seeing how we are stuck with each other for the next six months because you were unable to say no to my father, you have to deal with that. Live with the fact that I care about you despite how stupid you are!"

"Get out of my room, Emily. Don’t come to my space or touch my things. Stay away from my bedroom," Callan said, pointing to the door.

Unlike Emily, she didn’t flinch or budge. "This is another one of your MOs, isn’t? Get Emily mad and stop her from asking questions. You’re a coward, Callan. Will it kill you to have a normal conversation like a normal adult? Will it kill you to just say what is wrong with you?" Emily asked, glaring at him stubbornly. "Too bad for you because I’m not leaving. I want to know what the problem is. If you don’t tell me, then I’m just going to call your parents and find out from them. They must know what’s wrong with you, right?" She threatened with a sweet smile.

For a moment, there was only silence. She could hear her own breathing as Callan stared at her.

He could see that she was determined not to get angry and leave as usual. And he didn’t want to push her out roughly either.

After a moment his shoulders dropped a little and he sighed as he lifted his hand and pressed his fingers to his temple, like his head hurt.

"Why did you bring that?" he asked, nodding at the tray of food. "I told you I wasn’t hungry."

Emily swallowed and looked at him. "You didn’t look or sound okay. I didn’t know what else to do. Try to eat a little," she said, and Callan looked at the tray.

He looked at her again. His eyes were softer now, but he still looked tired."You don’t have to do that or worry about me," he said.

"I know," she said quickly. "But like I said, I care about you whether we both like it or not. So, you will have to deal with it. Don’t worry. I don’t want or expect anything from you. I’m only concerned as a friend, like Jamal or Mari would be," she assured him, even though she knew that wasn’t true.

Those words hung in the air. She could see the way they made something flicker in his eyes, something sad.

Callan looked away. "You shouldn’t have come in here," he said again, softer this time.

"I know," she whispered.

He took a slow breath and reached for the towel on the floor. He turned away from her, walking over to the closet.

Emily stood there, hugging herself, watching his back. She wished she could walk over and put her arms around him, but she didn’t dare.

She looked at the unicorn by the lamp and swallowed the tight feeling in her throat. "You still have this," she said, trying to change the subject.

Callan didn’t need to turn to know what she was talking about. "Yeah," he said.

A tiny smile tugged at her lips. "I’m glad. It cost a lot," she said, and Callan wasn’t sure whether she meant the price she had paid to make it, or the price that bringing it to him had cost.

Callan didn’t answer right away. He pulled a clean T-shirt from a drawer and slipped it over his head. Then he went to pick up the tray.

"Since you won’t leave, let’s take the conversation to the living room," he said, and led the way out of the room.

Emily followed him not sure if she had gotten through to him or if her threat to call his parents had.

Callan took the tray to the dining and as he sat down, Emily turned on the light and joined him.

Callan stared down at the plate of prawns with pasta. He didn’t say anything for a moment or make any attempt to eat.

Emily watched him, wondering if she should ask him if he was seeing a therapist and if that was how he got the prescription. That should give him the opening to talk.

Before she could speak, Callan spoke again. "I can’t sleep without them," he said finally. His voice sounded tired. "If I don’t take them, I see things and hear."

Emily lifted her eyes to his. "What things?" she asked in a soft voice.

He looked away for a moment, he didn’t speak. His shoulders were tense. "Things that happened before," he said, then shook his head. "It doesn’t matter."

"It does matter if you’re having nightmares about it and taking sleeping pills," Emily said, her voice growing stronger. "Cal, you can tell me. I want to know."

Callan let out a short laugh. "No, you don’t," he said. His eyes were dark when he looked at her again and then he shook his head. "You don’t want to hear about any of it, trust me."

Emily shook her head. "You don’t know that," she whispered.

"I do," he said as he picked up his fork and started playing with the food.

Emily kept staring at him, her eyes full of concern. "Talk to me, Callan. Please," she said, wondering how she had gone from wanting to be indifferent to begging him to confide in her.

Callan looked at her, and for a moment, he looked like a boy lost in the dark. "Don’t say anything to my parents, Emily. I don’t want them worrying about me more than necessary," he said, his voice rough.

So, that was it. He was talking to her because she threatened to talk to his parents. "I won’t," she promised.

He held her gaze, and for a second, she thought he might say something. But then he only sighed.

"I’m really not hungry. Thanks for the meal," he said gently as he rose. "And thanks for your concern even though I really don’t deserve it."

Emily nodded and rose as well. She picked up the tray of food and walked toward the kitchen. When she reached the door, she stopped and looked back at Callan, who was heading for his room.

"Callan," she said quietly, and he stopped, but he didn’t turn, "if you ever want to talk about what you dream about I’ll listen."

He didn’t look at her. He only nodded and continued walking.

Emily watched him go with a sigh. She didn’t know what Callan saw in his dreams. But she knew two things. She knew it hurt him. And she knew she wasn’t ever really going to stop caring about Callan.

She could move on, but she wouldn’t stop caring about him no matter how mad he made her, because that was just the kind of person she was.