Endgame (The Atlanta Boys)

29. Dakota

29

DAKOTA

I do my best to keep my mind occupied by mindless chit-chat. He’s such a trooper, doing his best to keep my mood up and conversations flowing.

As much as I appreciate that, my mind outwardly hears our conversations and responds, but I’m not retaining any of it. I recognize my responses are robotic, and Callaway notices too.

I sit quietly as he drives Chevy onto the steady road that leads to my family's property. We take off onto the one-mile bend to reach the house, nothing but dirt road and oak trees before us.

In a rapid decision, Callaway hastily pulls off to the side of the road, puts the truck in park, and turns his body to face mine. He guides his left hand across the center console, allowing our hands to intertwine. His touch brings me such solace, and the intimacy of his gesture doesn’t go unnoticed.

Finding my attention, he holds my emotions at a standstill, “I know how hard today must be for you, and the thought of being here terrifies you, but I need you to know that I’m here. I promise not to interfere in any way. If at any time you feel overwhelmed and want to leave, we leave. You get bad vibes from the realtor—we’re gone. If you decide you don’t want to sell it, I’ll do everything in my power to help you keep it. If you decide to paint all the walls yellow, we buy the paint. It kills me I can’t do anything to take away your pain, but I will make it my life’s mission to always be a refuge for you. Whatever you need is yours. Okay, sweetheart?”

He’s gazing at me so attentively, making me want to shatter into a mournful sob right here, right now. He’s always looking out for me. Always choosing me. He wants to be my refuge. It’s similar to the safety my parents once shielded me beneath.

I would seek shelter under Callaway’s wings every moment of every day if he’d let me. It’s with him I feel the safest.

Holding back my tears, my glassy eyes find him, hoping he sees my gratitude conveyed in them.

“You are slowly becoming the person I look for on my darkest days, Callaway.” He nods in response, his eyes penetrating my heart as he lets me hold onto his words.

“I hate this.” The tears I’ve been hiding have a mind of their own as I fight to demolish the dam I’ve held secure since I lost them. An outpouring of every emotion I’ve pushed under the surface breaks free, and a wretched sob leaves my lips, my body shaking in convulsions I never saw coming.

The tears won’t stop.

Callaway grips me tighter, proving he has nowhere else to be. The mourning and the grief spewing out of me have been held together and locked in for so long I can physically feel the burden shift and leave my body. He’s here, and he’s my always-present refuge in this moment of anguish .

Why have I not seen it?

“Shhh, I’ve got you. You don’t have to do this alone anymore. I refuse to be another one to leave and let you down.” His broad hands have both found their way to cradle my face, forcing my sights firmly set on him. I believe him. I know I can do this. Not once did Callaway make me feel less than for getting emotional or mock my sensitivity; he meets me right where I am and supports my struggle.

I can do this .

It’s time to close this chapter and say goodbye.