Chapter 23
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“Is there room for me on that glider?”
Brynn looked up, startled by her mother’s soft voice. Her gaze met Hadley’s concerned eyes, as warm and understanding as always. She tried to smile, but it felt too heavy, crumbling before it could fully form. “Yeah, sure. Have a seat.”
Hadley eased onto the glider beside her, the gentle creak of the wood the only sound breaking the quiet. “We missed seeing you in church this morning.”
“I didn’t feel like going,” Brynn said flatly, her voice carrying a weight that even she hadn’t expected. The thought of enduring the congregation’s pitying glances made her stomach churn. She could already imagine their whispers. Poor Brynn. Callum’s back, but not with her. The humiliation alone was unbearable.
Hadley nodded. “I hear Callum is back.” Her tone was gentle but probing.
Brynn stiffened, her fingers twisting in her lap. Her chest felt hollow, like an empty room echoing with painful memories. “Yeah,” she murmured.
“Can you tell me what happened?”
Brynn blinked hard, her vision blurring as the tears she’d thought she’d run out of threatened again. “Callum doesn’t love me. I was just…someone to pass the time with while he was here. He made that painfully clear. Honestly, I don’t think he even likes me.”
As the words left her mouth, she felt a fresh wave of anguish. It wasn’t just about Callum not loving her—it was the betrayal of all the little moments they’d shared. The whispered promises, the stolen glances, the tender touches that had felt so real.
Hadley handed her a tissue, her expression steady and warm. “You had an argument,” she said softly.
Brynn gave a bitter laugh, dabbing at her cheeks. “An understatement. We ripped into each other. And now? It’s over. Just like that.”
Hadley leaned back, her hands resting lightly in her lap. “You know, sometimes, in the heat of the moment, I’ve said things I didn’t really mean. Haven’t you?”
Brynn’s breath hitched. She thought about the way her words had sliced through Callum like a knife, her anger turning every vulnerability into a weapon. “I said things I regret,” she admitted, her words barely audible. “But…what he said? He meant it. I could see it in his eyes.”
Hadley waited patiently, her calm presence urging Brynn to continue.
“He said his job requires him to go back to Boston,” Brynn began, her voice hardening with every word. “And while there, he was looking at schools, nanny agencies, even adoption! He said he can’t make being a single parent work.” She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. “He even seemed open to leaving Parker with me. Like he’s some…some burden he can just shove off on someone else.”
Her voice cracked on the last word, and she pressed a trembling hand to her mouth. “He promised Parker he’d be there for him,” she whispered. “He promised me. And now he’s…he’s ready to just walk away? How could he do that? How could he be so…so cold?”
Hadley placed a hand on Brynn’s knee, her touch grounding. “You thought he wanted to stay.”
Brynn nodded, fresh tears sliding down her cheeks. “I thought he wanted to build a life here—with me, with Parker. I thought we were on the same page.” Her voice wavered, thick with pain. “But I was wrong. I misread everything. He never really wanted this.”
Hadley’s gaze softened, and she tilted her head. “What do you want, Brynn?”
The question made Brynn flinch. “What do you mean?”
“Do you want to be with Callum?”
Her heart twisted at the question, her breath catching. “Of course I do,” she said, the words tumbling out before she could stop them. “I love him. I’ve loved him since the moment he walked through my door. But he doesn’t love me. Not if he can just…leave like this.” She looked away. “He didn’t even ask me to go with him. He didn’t even try.”
“Are you angry that he didn’t want to stay,” Hadley asked gently, “or angry that he didn’t ask you to go?”
Brynn’s head snapped up, her chest tightening. The truth she’d been avoiding hit her like a punch to the gut. “He didn’t ask,” she said bitterly. “Doesn’t that mean he doesn’t care enough to even think about it?”
Hadley offered a sad smile.. “Or maybe he thought you wouldn’t consider it. Maybe he believed it was a nonstarter.”
The whole time you were in school, you refused to consider living anywhere besides Good Hope. And luckily, you didn’t have to. Would you want to give that up, Brynn?
She shook her head, her mind spinning with Callum’s words. Was her mom right? Did Callum think he couldn’t ask her to go? And if he had asked her, would she have dismissed the idea outright? Her love for Callum warred with her pride, the two battling fiercely in her chest.
“You need to decide what matters most,” Hadley said softly. “This isn’t about either of you making concessions. It’s about love. Love asks us to make hard choices. You have to ask yourself—are you willing to make a hard choice?”
The words sank deep, forcing Brynn to confront the truth she’d been avoiding. She’d built a life she loved in Good Hope. But was it worth losing Callum—and Parker—over?
Her heart ached as she realized she didn’t know the answer. Not yet.
Callum watched through the front window as Connor and Addie led Parker toward the town square, their cheerful chatter fading into the summer breeze. Relief washed over him, but it was tinged with guilt. He should’ve gone with them. He should’ve been there for his son, showing Parker that everything was going to be okay.
Instead, he sank into the armchair in his parents’ living room, the weight of his thoughts pulling him under. The fight with Brynn replayed in his mind like a bad movie, each word sharper than the last. He closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose, but the memory of her face—flushed with anger, shadowed with hurt—refused to fade.
He hadn’t handled it well. He knew that. In the heat of the moment, he’d said things he hadn’t meant, things that had made it sound like Parker didn’t matter to him. Like she didn’t matter to him. Nothing could have been further from the truth, but how could she know that when he’d failed to show it?
The gnawing uncertainty about Parker’s future only deepened the ache in his chest. He wanted to do right by his son, but every option felt wrong. Keeping Parker with him in Boston meant a life of nannies and boarding schools—a childhood Callum knew would be no childhood at all. Leaving him here with his parents would be practical but carried its own weight of inadequacy. And Brynn…
The thought of her brought a fresh wave of regret. She’d accused him of not caring about Parker, of treating him like a burden, and it had stung in a way Callum hadn’t expected. If she believed that, didn’t it mean she didn’t truly know him? But then again, hadn’t he just as cruelly dismissed everything they’d built together, reducing it to something that “was never meant to be permanent”?
He groaned, running a hand through his hair. Brynn had been his safe harbor, his confidante, the one person who’d seen him at his most vulnerable and stayed. Now, he’d wrecked it all in a single, heated argument.
The creak of floorboards pulled him from his thoughts, and he glanced up to see his father flip on the light.
“You don’t have to sit here in the dark,” Max said lightly. “We may have gone a little overboard on that cruise, but we can still pay the electric bill.”
Callum didn’t even muster a chuckle.
Prim followed Max into the room, settling onto the sofa across from Callum. “Connor and Addie said you weren’t in the mood for ice cream.”
“I’m not,” Callum admitted. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I still don’t know what to do about Parker.”
Max’s expression softened. “You’ll figure it out,” he said, his tone steady with fatherly confidence.
Prim nodded. “And whatever you decide,” she said, her voice gentle, “know that we’re here for you. Always.”
“Thanks,” Callum murmured, his throat tightening.
Max leaned back, studying his son. “You’re doing the hard thing, you know. Putting Parker’s needs above your own. That’s what makes you a great dad.”
“How do you figure?” Callum asked bitterly.
Max’s gaze didn’t waver. “Because you’re thinking about what’s best for him, even when it’s not easy. You’d love to have him with you in Boston, but you know that’s not the right life for him.”
Callum hesitated, then sighed. “Brynn doesn’t see it that way. She thinks I don’t care about Parker. She thinks I’m just trying to dump him somewhere so I can go back to my life.” His voice broke on the last word, frustration bleeding into every syllable. “I thought she’d help me figure it out, but instead, she blew up. She accused me of not loving my son. Of not loving her …”
He trailed off, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air.
Prim’s brows knit, her hazel eyes soft with empathy. “Do you think she meant what she said, or was she just hurt?”
“She was angry,” Callum admitted. “But I could see the hurt in her eyes. I’ve never seen her look at me like that.”
Max exchanged a glance with Prim before speaking. “Your mom and I have had our fair share of fights over the years,” he said. “Some big, some small. And here’s what I’ve learned: It’s not the fight that defines you. It’s what you do afterward.”
Prim nodded. “When you’re thinking clearly, you look at what was said and what wasn’t said, and you figure out how to make things right.”
“You’re saying I should apologize?” Callum asked, though he already knew the answer.
Prim’s gaze didn’t waver. “Did you say something hurtful? Something you didn’t mean?”
Callum swallowed hard, flashing back to Brynn’s stricken expression when he’d dismissed their relationship.
“Then yes,” Prim said firmly. “You should apologize.”
Max leaned forward, his tone earnest. “We’re not saying you and Brynn need to get back together. That’s up to the two of you. But she loves Parker and is concerned about him. At the very least, you need to reassure her that you will do right by him.”
Callum nodded slowly, his chest tightening with a mix of dread and determination. He didn’t know how to fix things with Brynn, or how to make a life for Parker that didn’t feel like a compromise. But for the first time, he allowed himself to believe that, with love and effort, there might still be a way forward.
That night, Callum sat on the edge of Parker’s bed, the next Nate the Great book resting heavily in his hands. Reading these books together had become a treasured ritual, a nightly moment of connection between him, Parker and Brynn—a triangle of laughter, love and warmth.
But tonight, the empty space beside him loomed like a chasm. Brynn’s absence was palpable, a physical ache he hadn’t known he could feel.
He opened the book and read the first paragraph, but his voice faltered as memories of her soft chuckle and the way Parker leaned into her came rushing back. His throat tightened, betraying him, and he stopped, swallowing against the rising tide of emotions.
Before he could compose himself, Parker’s small hand rested on his arm, anchoring him.
The boy’s voice, impossibly steady for someone so young, broke the silence. “We’ll be okay.”
The simple words cut through Callum’s turmoil, their innocence and wisdom piercing his heart. He blinked back tears, forcing a smile that felt like a fragile mask. “Yes,” he said, the words trembling but resolute. “We’ll be okay.”
“I love you, Daddy.”
“I love you, too, Parker. ”
Parker’s big blue eyes, mirrors of Callum’s own, stayed locked on his. “Sometimes you can love someone very much, but you can’t be with them. Like my mom and Grammy. They loved me, but they needed me to have things they couldn’t give me. That’s why they gave me you.”
Callum froze, his chest tightening. The words carried the bittersweet echoes of sacrifices he couldn’t imagine making.
“Brynn told me that,” Parker added softly.
Callum nodded, his thoughts a whirlwind. She’s a wise woman, he thought. Wiser than he’d given her credit for in their heated argument.
“Daddy?” Parker’s voice drew him back to the present.
“Yes, son?”
“What does Brynn need that we can’t give her?”
The question hung in the air, a spotlight illuminating the gnawing truth Callum had tried to suppress. Brynn didn’t need more. She needed him. She needed someone willing to choose her, to build a life alongside her.
The realization hit him with stunning clarity: He could give her what she needed. He wanted to.
Callum stared at his son, who was waiting with the quiet patience of someone far older than his years. “She needs us,” Callum said, his voice hoarse but sure.
Parker’s face lit with a small, knowing smile. “Then we should give her us.”
Callum chuckled softly, brushing Parker’s hair back with a trembling hand. The weight of his inner conflict—the pull of his career, the fear of uprooting his life, the guilt of dragging Parker through uncertainty—was still there. But beneath it, hope stirred, fragile but growing.
For the first time in a long time, he knew clarity. It wasn’t about balancing what was practical and what was ideal. It was about choosing love, choosing family and finding happiness in the simplest, most profound things .
“There’s nothing I wouldn’t give her,” Callum whispered, mostly to himself.
As he turned out the light and sat in the quiet of Parker’s room, the path ahead still felt uncertain. But for the first time, it felt like a road worth traveling. Together.