Thirty-Two
thirty-two
LET’S GET MARRIED - JAGGED EDGE
OWEN - APRIL 30, 2014
T he sun filters through the windows, casting streaks of gold across the hardwood floor as I sip my coffee, my thoughts miles away from the kitchen table. Callie is upstairs with the girls, probably wrangling Sara into an outfit she swears she doesn’t want to wear before deciding it’s her favorite. Ruby’s babbling drifts down the stairs, a steady hum of innocence in a world that feels unsteady.
My phone buzzes against the table, and I glance at the screen, the name “Will” flashing across it. I hesitate to answer, bracing for whatever news he might have.
“Hey,” I say, pressing the phone to my ear.
“Morning,” Will replies, his tone even, lighter than I expected. “I figured you’d want an update.”
I set the mug down, leaning back in my chair. “Yeah, I’ve been waiting to hear from you. What’s going on?”
“The judge approved the order of protection,” Will says, and relief rushes through me. He continues before I can respond, his tone firm but reassuring. “Alex hasn’t been back since that day. Sabrina’s been staying at her parents’ house for now, and they’ve got a solid setup to make sure she’s not alone. She’s also working with an attorney to get the marriage annulled.”
“Good,” I say, exhaling slowly. The tightness in my chest eases slightly, but it doesn’t disappear completely. “That’s really good to hear.”
“I know you’re still worried, but I’m keeping an eye on things,” Will assures me. “She’s taking this seriously, Owen. She’s not going to let him worm his way back in.”
“I know,” I say, but the words feel hollow. Knowing and believing are two different things. “I just… I can’t stop thinking about Barrett. If Alex decides to come back, I don’t want him anywhere near my son.”
“And he won’t be,” Will says firmly. “The order of protection applies to Barrett too. Sabrina made sure of that.”
Of course she did. Barrett is her first priority too. That calms him a bit. “Thanks, Will. For being there for her. For all of us.”
“That’s what friends are for,” he says easily. “You’ve got enough on your plate, Owen. Focus on that. I’ve got this covered.”
We talk for a few more minutes before hanging up. Knowing that Sabrina is taking steps to protect herself, that Will is in her corner, makes the weight in my chest feel better, but the worry is still there. It lingers like a shadow I can’t shake.
The sound of Callie’s footsteps on the stairs pulls me from my thoughts. She appears in the doorway, holding Ruby against her hip while Sara darts past her, already chattering about something she saw on TV.
“Everything okay?” Callie asks, her green eyes searching.
I nod, though I know she can see through the half-truth. “Will just called. The judge approved the order of protection. Sabrina’s safe for now, and she’s looking into an annulment.”
Callie shifts Ruby to her other hip, her gaze steady on mine. “That’s good, Owen. That’s progress.”
“Yeah,” I agree, though my shoulders are still tense. “It’s just hard not to think about what could happen. I know Will’s watching out for her, but what if Alex shows up again? What if?—”
“Owen,” Callie interrupts gently, stepping closer. She places her free hand on my arm, grounding me in a way only she can. “She’s taking the right steps. She’s protecting herself and Barrett. You’ve done everything you can. You can’t carry all of this on your own.”
Her words are soft but firm, and I let them settle over me, their truth undeniable. “I just don’t want to fail him,” I admit quietly. “I don’t want him to feel like I didn’t do enough to keep him safe.”
“You’re not failing him,” Callie says, her voice unwavering. “You’re the best dad he could ever have. He knows that, Owen. And I know it too.”
Ruby coos softly in Callie’s arms, her tiny hand reaching out to grab at the fabric of my shirt. I take her small hand in mine, the warmth of her touch grounding me further.
“Thanks,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “For reminding me.”
“That’s what I’m here for,” she says with a small smile, leaning in to press a kiss to my cheek.
The last few weeks have gone more smoothly than I could’ve hoped. The judge approved Sabrina’s order of protection against Alex, and there hasn’t been a single sign of him since. Will keeps me updated, assuring me she’s taking the steps she needs to move forward, and I’m starting to breathe a little easier. The constant worry that’s been gnawing at the edges of my mind is beginning to fade, replaced by cautious relief.
At home, life has settled into a calm, steady rhythm. Callie, as always, continues to amaze me. She juggles work, the kids, and everything else with a quiet grace. She makes our house feel like more than just a place we live; it feels like a sanctuary. Spaces that used to feel empty are filled with her laughter, and I am reminded every day how lucky I am to have her.
Barrett’s been adjusting well, finding his place in this new version of our family. Watching him with Ruby and Sara—how he plays with them, protects them, loves them—it melts away any lingering doubts I’ve carried, leaving only gratitude. This life, messy and imperfect as it is, feels like everything I’ve ever wanted but never thought I’d have.
It’s a rare calm, and I’m determined to use it to make sure Callie knows just how much she means to us. With her birthday falling on Mother’s Day this year, it’s the perfect chance to celebrate her the way she deserves.
The morning starts with a quiet buzz of excitement. I slip out of bed early, careful not to wake her as I shuffle downstairs. Ruby stirs in her bassinet, and I manage to pick her up before she lets out a cry, shushing her softly as I rock her against my chest.
Sara is already awake when I reach the kitchen, her curls sticking up in every direction as she rubs her eyes.
“Dada Owie, it Mombie’s Day?” she asks,
“Mombie’s Day?” I repeat, grinning as I set Ruby in her swing.
Sara nods solemnly, her big eyes wide with innocence. “’Cause Mama’s always tired like a mombie!”
I stifle a laugh, shaking my head. “I think you mean Mommy’s Day, kiddo. But sure, let’s call it Mombie’s Day.”
Sara giggles, her sleepiness forgotten as she bounces on her toes. “Can we wake her up now?”
“Not yet,” I say, smiling at her enthusiasm. “First, we’ve got work to do.”
We set to work making pancakes, Callie’s favorite, loaded with chocolate chips. Sara insists on sprinkling the chocolate herself, her little hands shaking as she carefully drops each one onto the batter. Ruby watches us from her swing, kicking her legs and cooing like she’s part of the team.
By the time the pancakes are stacked high and the bacon is sizzling, Sara is practically vibrating with excitement.
“Can I wake Mama now?” she whispers loudly, her eyes sparkling.
“Almost,” I tell her, setting the plates on a tray alongside a vase of Callie’s favorite flowers and a small wrapped box. “We’ve got one more thing to do.”
Together, we carry the tray upstairs. Sara races ahead, her giggles giving us away before we even open the door. Callie stirs, her eyes fluttering open as we step inside.
“Happy Birthday,” I say softly, setting the tray on the nightstand.
“And Happy Mombie’s Day!” Sara adds, climbing onto the bed with a bounce.
Callie blinks, a slow smile spreading across her face. “Mombie’s Day?” she echoes, her voice warm and sleepy.
“Your daughter’s idea,” I say, trying not to laugh. “Apparently, you’ve been rebranded.”
Callie laughs, her head falling back against the pillow. “Sounds about right.”
“Only the best for the Mombie,” I tease, leaning down to kiss her forehead.
We spend the morning in bed, eating pancakes and laughing as Sara tries to feed bites to Ruby. Callie opens her gift—a delicate bracelet with the kids’ initials engraved on tiny charms—and her eyes well up as she slips it onto her wrist.
“It’s beautiful,” she whispers, brushing her fingers over the charms.
“Not as beautiful as you,” I say, and the way she looks at me in that moment makes my chest ache in the best way.
Later, after a picnic at the park filled with Sara’s squeals of delight and Ruby’s wide-eyed wonder at every leaf and bird in sight, I drive to Rita and Wayne’s house to drop off the girls. The late-afternoon sun casts golden streaks across the yard as we pull into the driveway, and Callie leans over to check on Sara, who’s already nodding off in her car seat.
Before I can knock, Rita answers the door with a warm, familiar smile. “You’re right on time,” she says, reaching out to unbuckle Ruby from her carrier. She cradles her close, cooing softly. “Oh, sweet girl, you’ve had a long day, haven’t you?”
Wayne steps into the doorway, his booming laugh announcing his presence. “Got the popcorn ready, and Finding Nemo is queued up. Sara’s going to love it.”
“Thank you both,” Callie says, brushing a stray curl from Sara’s face before leaning in to kiss her cheek. “Be good for Rita and Wayne, okay, baby?”
Sara rubs her eyes, barely awake, and mumbles something that sounds like “Nemo fishies.” It’s enough to make all of us laugh, and the tension in my shoulders eases.
“Have fun, you two,” Rita says, giving me a knowing look. “We’ll take care of everything here.”
We wish Rita a Happy Mother’s Day and we’re back in the car. Callie gives me a curious glance, the corners of her lips twitching as if she’s trying not to smile. “Are you going to tell me where we’re going now, or are you keeping me in suspense?”
I grin, pulling onto the road. “You’ll see.”
The restaurant is tucked away on the outskirts of Hawkridge, a cozy little spot that I’d stumbled across while planning tonight. The warm glow of string lights wraps around the patio, and soft music drifts through the air. When we pull up, Callie’s eyes widen.
“This is… wow,” she says, stepping out of the car. The wonder in her voice makes every moment of planning worth it. “How did you even find this place?”
“I have my ways,” I say, taking her hand and leading her toward the entrance.
The hostess seats us at a private corner table, the candlelight casting a soft glow on Callie’s face. She looks radiant, her green eyes sparkling as she takes in the ambiance. Dinner is everything I’d hoped it would be—perfect food, laughter that feels easy and light, and moments where we simply sit in comfortable silence, lost in each other.
As we finish dessert, a decadent slice of chocolate cake we can barely finish, Callie leans forward, her fingers brushing the edge of her wine glass. There’s something in her expression, a mix of nerves and excitement, that catches my attention.
“So,” she starts, her voice soft but steady. “I’ve been thinking about something.”
I raise an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? Should I be worried?”
She laughs, shaking her head. “Not unless you’re against spontaneity.”
“I think I can handle it,” I say, leaning back in my chair. “What’s on your mind?”
Callie hesitates, her fingers toying with her napkin. “I know we haven’t really solidified a wedding date yet,” she begins. “And I’ve been reading about handfasting ceremonies—they’re these symbolic bindings that some weddings are based on. They’re simple, meaningful, and… well, I think it would suit us.”
Her voice grows more animated as she speaks, her cheeks flushing slightly. “What if we got married the day after our anniversary? It’ll be a year since we met, and it feels… right. Like we’ve come full circle.”
I blink, taken aback. Of all the things I expected her to say tonight, this wasn’t it, but her words make sense. The timing, the sentiment, the idea of not waiting longer than we have to—it’s perfect.
I reach across the table, taking her hand in mine. “You’re serious?” I ask, though the smile tugging at my lips gives away my answer.
She nods, her eyes searching mine. “I am. But only if you think it’s a good idea.”
“A good idea?” I echo, shaking my head with a grin. “Callie, it’s a great idea. Let’s do it.”
Her face lights up, and the joy radiating from her makes my chest ache in the best way. She squeezes my hand, her voice trembling slightly as she says, “I was half-expecting you to think I’m crazy.”
“You are crazy,” I tease, leaning closer. “But that’s one of the reasons I love you.”
Her laughter fills the space between us, and in that moment, I know I’d agree to anything that makes her this happy.
When we get home, the house is wrapped in a rare, peaceful silence, the kind that feels like a luxury with little ones around. I lock the door behind us, and Callie glances back at me with a slow smile, one that tugs at something low in my chest. She slips off her shoes, leaving them haphazardly near the door, and heads for the couch, stretching out with a satisfied sigh.
“You really know how to spoil a girl,” she teases, her voice soft but carrying a playful edge. “Dinner, gifts, flowers... I might get used to this.”
Leaning against the doorway, I cross my arms and take her in—her hair a little tousled from the drive, her dress hugging her curves, making it hard to think about anything else. “Maybe that’s the plan,” I reply, letting my voice drop. “Keep you guessing. Keep you coming back for more.”
Her laughter is light, but there’s a spark in her eyes that makes my heart thud in my chest. “Oh, I think you’ve got me hooked,” she says, her lips curving into a smirk. “But don’t let it go to your head.”
I push off the doorway and walk toward her, my steps deliberate. Her gaze follows me, her tongue wets her lips as I stop in front of her.
“I don’t know,” I murmur, leaning down until our faces are inches apart. “You seemed pretty impressed tonight.”
Her hand drifts up to rest against my chest, her fingers curling into my shirt as she looks up at me, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Maybe I was,” she says, her tone low and teasing. “But I don’t think you’re done yet.”
The challenge in her voice ignites a fire in me. I lower myself onto the couch beside her, my hand sliding to the back of her neck as I tilt her face toward mine. “Not even close,” I murmur before capturing her lips in a slow, deliberate kiss.
She melts into me instantly, her fingers tightening in my shirt as I deepen the kiss, coaxing a soft sound from her that goes straight to my head. She shifts, straddling my lap, and I let out a low groan, my hands holding her hips steady.
“You’re playing a dangerous game,” I murmur against her lips, my fingers sliding along the soft fabric of her dress.
“Good,” she whispers back, her breath warm against my skin. Her hands move to my shoulders, trailing down my arms as she leans in, her lips brushing the corner of my mouth before skimming down to my jaw. “Because I’m not done with you either.”
Her teeth graze my neck, enough to make my breath hitch. I tighten my grip on her hips, guiding her closer. She’s teasing, deliberate, every movement calculated to drive me to the edge without letting me tip over.
“Callie,” I growl, my voice rough with restraint. “You’re going to drive me insane.”
Her laughter is low and sultry, her lips returning to mine in a kiss that’s equal parts tender and demanding. “That’s the idea,” she whispers, her voice filled with wicked amusement.
My hands slide up her back, pulling her flush against me as I kiss her again, this time with more intensity, more purpose. She sighs into my mouth, her fingers tangling in my hair as she presses closer, her body fitting against mine like it was made for it.
When we pull back, her forehead rests against mine, both of us breathing hard. Her smile is lazy, her green eyes hazy with affection and lust.
“You really do know how to spoil a girl,” she says, her fingers brushing against the back of my neck.
“And you really do know how to make it impossible to stop,” I reply, my voice thick as I trail my hands down her sides, savoring the way she leans into my touch.
Her laugh is soft, and she presses a kiss to the corner of my mouth. “Good,” she murmurs, her lips brushing against mine once more. “Because I’m not going anywhere.”