Chapter Twenty-Nine #2
And there he stood. In the flesh. The person who’d ripped her heart from her chest and stomped on it. The reason she’d become so defensive and closed off. He was standing right there. The ten or so feet between them shimmered with all their moments. The ecstasy. The heartbreak.
“I knew it was you.” Too-white teeth flashed in an easy smile. “I’d know that red hair a mile away.”
Then he was in front of her, leaning in for a hug. Like they were college pals who’d lost touch for a few years rather than people who’d planned a life together before he torpedoed it.
On sheer instinct, she stepped into his arms. Returned his embrace.
And she felt nothing.
He brushed his lips against her cheek, a ghostly echo of the past.
Still she felt nothing.
She felt nothing.
Callum appeared to her right and extended a hand to Derek. “Callum Knight. Wonderful concert.”
Derek’s eyes widened. “Wait a minute. The Callum Knight? Oh, man. I’ve loved your work for a long time. The Cambridge Chamber Chorale . . . they were an incredible choir. And your compositions are genius. I’m honored to be in such elite company right now.”
Wait, was Derek sucking up to Callum?
He totally was. And Callum picked up on it. The glimmers of amusement in the glances he shot her way confirmed that they’d be laughing about it later.
Yet again she was Derek’s stepping stone. That was all she’d ever been. Just a rung on the ladder to his finding something better. In this case it was a professional connection. He hadn’t wanted to reconnect with her at all. He must have recognized Callum and wanted to use her to meet him.
In the past that would have hurt. But now she just wanted to laugh. Because now she didn’t care.
Derek Fogarty in the flesh, and she didn’t care. She felt nothing for him whatsoever. She could walk away without giving him another thought.
Quietly, when she hadn’t been paying attention, she’d been set free.
When had God healed her heart? When had he set her free? How long had she been acting like she was still in a cage while in reality the door had been open and she could’ve walked out anytime she wanted?
All this time she’d been angry with God for taking Derek away from her.
But God hadn’t been holding out on her. He’d been protecting her.
She’d dodged a bullet by not marrying Derek, and at last she could let their relationship go.
She wasn’t grateful he’d cheated, but she was grateful his true nature had come to light before she’d tied herself to him for life.
She felt like falling to her knees in gratitude right there in the lobby, right there in the middle of Derek and Callum and two thousand other people. Instead she slipped her hand in Callum’s. Twined her fingers with his.
Callum glanced at her with some surprise, then turned back to Derek. “Nice meeting you.”
“Oh, the pleasure’s all mine,” Derek replied. “Could I get your contact info?”
“Google my name. My info is right there on my website.” Without waiting for another word, Callum turned away, hand in hand with Blair, and steered her toward the exit.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“I am.” She stepped out of the lobby and breathed deep of the clean, crisp autumn air. “Better than I have been in a long time.”
This. Right here. This was where her hand belonged. This was why it hadn’t worked out with Derek. This was why she’d stayed so long in Peterson.
God had just been moving pieces into place.
Callum stood there beneath a streetlamp, people streaming past, the lights from a passing bus illuminating his jacket. He had never been more handsome. Things had never felt so right.
“What?” A slight frown creased dark brows.
She took both his hands in hers. “All these years I’ve wondered what would happen if I saw Derek again. I wondered what I’d feel, what he’d say, what I’d say . . . but never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d feel absolutely nothing.”
Callum nodded slowly. “Nothing, huh?”
“Nope. Not a thing in the world.”
Cautious hope flickered in his eyes. “What do you think that means?”
She stroked the back of his hand with her thumb. “I think it means I’m truly over it and maybe, just maybe, ready to let someone else into my heart.”
A grin tugged at the corners of his lips. “Oh? Did you have someone in mind?”
In response, she stretched up on her tiptoes and kissed him.
Unlike their first kiss, this one wasn’t the result of Sturm und Drang. This one was a welcome. A pair of gates opening wide to the exploration of what could be, what might be, what—God willing—would be.
When they parted, their mingled breaths puffed up in the chilly air around them. No need for words. Only music could fully capture this moment. Doubtless he had ideas swirling around his head and might need a quiet place where he could write them down.
“Want to go grab a slice of pie somewhere?” she said. “I know a place.”
“Lead the way.”
They made their way back to Callum’s car, and as he started the engine, Blair checked her phone for messages.
“Huh,” she said. “I’ve got a text from Vic.”
Callum glanced her way as he pulled away from the curb. “Vic?”
“Uh-huh.” Suspicion threaded through her as she opened the message.
Tell that reporter she can call off the dogs, Blair. I didn’t kill Iris.
She left a suicide note.