Chapter 39
Callan
She reached for my hand as we walked toward the front door, and I felt the shift in her immediately.
Every step made her slower. Her grip tightened around my fingers until it almost hurt, and when we were only a few feet away, she stopped completely.
Her eyes were locked on the door, her gaze wide and horrified.
She looked like she expected someone to burst through it at any second.
The sight gutted me. She had been holding it together by a thread for so long. Everything that happened tonight was heavy, and the weight of it pressed down hard. I turned to face her, keeping one hand linked with hers while I lifted my other hand to her cheek. She leaned into my touch slightly.
“No one’s in there,” I said quietly, trying to give her something solid to hold onto.
“I’ll take you straight to your bedroom.
Just you and me in your room where you can breathe and rest.” I slid my thumb along her cheekbone, wanting her to know I meant every word.
“I’m not leaving you. Not tonight. Not any night. ”
She stared at me, her eyes drowning in fear and exhaustion. Her voice was small when she said, “You promised me that before.”
“I know,” I said fast, unable to sugarcoat it. “I know I did. And I know I failed you tonight. I hate that I put you through this, and I hate that I’m asking you to trust me again. But I will keep you safe now. From this point on, I won’t let anything touch you.”
Her eyes filled with tears again. She had been crying all evening, and I didn’t want her to hide any of it. She had every right to feel everything she was feeling.
I leaned in and pressed a slow kiss to her forehead, keeping my hand on her cheek so she wouldn’t pull away. “Let me take you upstairs,” I whispered against her skin before kissing her once more.
She sucked in a shaky breath as her gaze flicked between me and the door. She was preparing herself. To overcome something that should’ve felt easy.
“Okay,” she finally said, pressing her lips together tightly. She squeezed my hand again, silently begging me not to let go, and giving me the permission to guide her forward.
“I’m right here,” I assured her as I led her inside.
I felt her go rigid beside me as we stepped forward into the foyer.
Her eyes were fixed on the kitchen, staring at the chaos her mother had left behind.
I saw her swallow hard, her face paling as she took in the scene.
Her gaze flickered around the messy kitchen, taking in the shattered glass on the floor and the open cabinets.
I could see the fear returning, and the realization that it had been her mother doing all that.
I pulled her toward the stairs, blocking her from the destruction.
“She did this—”
“I’ll take care of it tomorrow,” I said quickly, and without giving her another chance to look back, I led her upstairs and to her room.
When we got there, I let go of her hand only for a moment to pull back the duvet and fluff the pillows, trying to make the space as inviting and safe as possible.
She stood in the middle of the room, watching me, with her arms wrapped around herself in a self-protective hug.
I walked back to her and gently uncrossed her arms to take her hand again. “Come on.”
I led her to the bed and she sat down on the edge, her body slumped with fatigue.
I knelt in front of her and untied the laces of her shoes, slipping them off her feet and setting them aside.
Then I stood and took off her jacket, throwing it over the chair before I guided her to lie down.
I pulled the covers up over her, and she moved without protest, letting me tuck her in.
Going around to the other side of the bed, I slid in beside her.
The moment I was settled, she turned into me, her body finding mine in the dark.
She curled against my side, her head coming to rest on my chest, and her arm draping over my stomach.
I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her close, with one hand resting on her back while the other stroked her hair.
We had been here like this before, only a couple of hours ago.
But this time, I was certain that she’d get the rest she deserved.
I could feel the tension slowly leaving her body as she surrendered to the safety of my embrace.
Her breathing, which had been shallow all this time, began to deepen.
I lay there in the quiet, listening to the sound of her breathing as it started to even out.
I didn’t move and fought my own tiredness. I didn’t want to fall asleep.
“You’ll be okay,” I whispered against her hair as I continued to rub her back.
She made a small sound, her face nestling further in the crook of my neck. “I’m just so tired,” she whimpered.
“I know. You can sleep. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”
With that promise lingering in the air, she finally fell asleep.
I had been watching her sleep for hours, with her body curled into mine.
I didn’t close my eyes once. I didn’t even feel tired.
I only wanted to make sure she stayed calm, that nothing startled her, and that she didn’t wake up panicked or shaken.
Her face looked softer in sleep, her lips parted slightly.
She was completely out, drained by everything that had happened, and I kept hoping that the sleep would give her even a small break from everything she’d been carrying.
My thoughts didn’t stop all night. I kept replaying everything between us, every choice, every mistake, every moment that brought us here.
I wondered what she thought about us now, if she imagined anything past today, if she could still see something good between us after everything that had gone wrong.
I knew what I wanted. I wanted her, in whatever way she would let me stay.
If she needed space, I would give it to her without hesitation.
If she needed me close, I wouldn’t move an inch.
She shifted a little as the first ray of sun came through the window. Her fingers twitched against my arm, then her breathing changed, and her eyes fluttered open slowly.
I stayed still, watching her come back to herself. Her gaze moved from my chest to the blanket, then finally up to me. She blinked a few times, her expression groggy but clearer than last night. I waited for her to say something or look away or do anything that might tell me how she felt right now.
She stared at me for a long moment, with her eyes searching my face like she was trying to remember something important. Then she spoke.
“You said you loved me.”
I held her gaze. I had been unaware that she had even heard me say it last night, and I thought maybe it slipped past her, and I’d get a second chance to tell her. But she had heard me, and now she was confronting me with it. She had every right to.
“I did say that. And I meant it,” I told her.
She didn’t say the words back, but I didn’t expect her to. Not after everything. I wasn’t looking for anything from her.
She blinked a few times, still pressed against me with her cheek warm against my arm. Whatever was going through her head right now, I wasn’t going to pressure her to talk about it. Instead, I changed the subject, leaving her with the knowledge that I loved her.
“Do you feel okay?” I asked quietly, brushing a strand of her hair away from her forehead.
She nodded once. “I think so.”
“You hungry? I can make you something.”
Her expression shifted immediately. “The kitchen is a mess,” she reminded me.
Shit…right.
My jaw clenched. “Then I’ll take you out.”
She nodded slowly. “Okay.”
Lana
It seemed like eating and crying were the only things I had done the past couple of hours.
Callan took me to a brunch spot where he ordered food that would’ve filled about ten people’s bellies.
He didn’t even look at the menu, just rattled off a list to the waitress with a confidence that left no room for argument or question.
He wanted me to have whatever I wanted, a little bit of everything so I wouldn’t have to make up my mind if I wanted French toast or pancakes, or the avocado toast with the poached eggs he knew I’d like.
The place he took me to had a menu full of vegetarian options, and I knew he picked it because of his knowledge of my cow’s milk allergy.
He even double checked when my latte came, making sure that it was almond milk instead of cow’s.
It was a small thing, but to me, it showed just how much he cared, how much he paid attention to the little details about me.
The food was good, but my appetite wasn’t fully there. I could feel Callan’s eyes on me, but he didn’t push me to eat. He just ate his own massive breakfast.
I turned my gaze back to Callan when I was done with my food. He had just finished as well, leaning back in his chair as he watched me with a patient expression.
“Finished?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“We’ll take the rest home.”
I nodded, not accepting any other option. I studied him for a second, then tilted my head to the side and asked, “Can you take me to Holland’s?”
He nodded slowly, his expression softening. “Yeah.” He kept his voice calm. “Of course I can.”
I didn’t want to go back to the house right now.
It felt like I could only be there to sleep, but even that had been hard last night.
I just wanted to keep my mind away from everything, and seeing Holland would help.
Now that she wouldn’t have to handle any of my issues, I allowed myself to let her close again.
“Thank you.”
He reached across the table and took my hand, his fingers lacing through mine. “Don’t,” he said, giving me a serious look. I knew what he meant, and I just nodded in acceptance.