Chapter 17 - Evania
I probably should have shown at least a tiny bit of interest in packing my things, but I really found the whole thing quite tedious, and I wasn’t willing to pretend otherwise.
It wasn’t like I owned much anyway. Aside from my clothes, shoes, and a few appliances, everything else came with the apartment.
My books would probably be the harder stuff to move since there were so many of them.
And I’d at least had the sense to pack my undergarments earlier, because there were some things I refused to let strangers go through.
Callahan had watched me the entire time with that carefully controlled expression of his, like he was observing a rare species in the wild.
“You’re not sentimental about anything?” he had asked, arms folded over his expensive suit jacket.
I shrugged. “Sentiment is heavy. I prefer to travel light.”
“You’re not worried something might get damaged?”
“If it does, you’ll replace it.”
He froze, visibly thrown by my response.
He also hadn’t known what to do with the fact that I agreed to move in with him without any hesitation or resistance. For a man used to bargaining, to people trying to squeeze more out of him, my indifference unsettled him.
Even now, sitting across from him in his sleek office, sunlight spilling across the floors and floor-to-ceiling windows, he kept glancing at me as if I might bolt.
We were supposed to be reviewing our first public appearance together before the charity ball. A small press event. A soft launch of his “relationship.”
Christina, his publicist, sat across from us with a tablet balanced on her knees, walking us through talking points.
“You’ll arrive separately,” she said smoothly. “Then greet each other naturally. Smile. Minimal PDA. Keep it classy.”
Callahan nodded, his jaw tight. “And if someone asks how we met?”
“You met through mutual friends,” she replied.
I tilted my head. “That’s not even creative. Why keep the truth hidden? Meeting at a cafe is nothing to be ashamed of.”
Christina smiled politely. “It’s not but it might lead to a lot of unnecessary questions.”
I leaned back in my chair, having nothing else to say on the matter. I saw nothing wrong with us being honest, but if she really thought otherwise, I wouldn't argue.
Callahan’s eyes flicked to me. “Do you want to check on the movers?”
There it was again. The question he’d asked four times in the last hour.
I glanced at him, amused. "What?"
“The movers. Do you want to call and see how it’s going?”
“Do you?”
His mouth pressed into a thin line.
“I’m sure it’s fine.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
I smiled faintly. “If you’re worried, you can call.”
He stared at me as if that would change my mind.
“That wasn’t an answer.”
I shrugged. “It wasn’t meant to be.”
His fingers drummed against the table. “Evania, this is your apartment. Your things.”
“And they’re being moved into your house,” I corrected lightly. “I trust you hired competent people.”
He exhaled sharply, a muscle in his jaw ticking as he visibly struggled not to argue. I only smiled sweetly, enjoying his effort to keep calm.
Christina’s lips twitched as if she found the exchange entertaining, but her eyes kept drifting toward Callahan. Not in a professional way. Soft smile. Slightly parted lips. Eyes lingering just a second too long.
Callahan stood abruptly and crossed the room toward his desk, muttering something under his breath. Probably about how impossible I was. The movement made his suit jacket shift just slightly, outlining broad shoulders and a back that most women would appreciate.
Including Christina.
I raised a brow slowly and cleared my throat.
It wasn’t loud.
It didn’t need to be.
Christina jumped like she’d been caught doing something illegal.
A faint flush crept up her neck to her cheeks as her attention snapped to me.
“Oh,” she said quickly, standing. “I’ll send over a few dresses for you to try. Something appropriate for the event.”
“How thoughtful,” I replied smoothly.
She gave him one last lingering look before hurrying out of the office. I slowly turned my head toward Callahan. He was standing at his window, hands in his pockets, staring out at the city like he owned it.
I scoffed.
It came out sharper than I intended, the sound slicing through the quiet of his office.
Callahan looked up immediately from the file in his hand. His brows drew together slightly, curiosity flickering across his face. “What was that for?”
I folded my arms across my chest. “Did you know your publicist has a crush on you?”
His expression went blank for half a second, then he burst out laughing. Not a polite chuckle. Not even a surprised laugh. A full, rich, head-thrown-back kind of laugh that filled the room.
“My imagination is getting the better of me?” I asked dryly.
“Yes,” he said between laughs. “Very much so.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I,” he replied, still grinning. “Christina does not have a crush on me.”
“The way she looks at you says otherwise.”
“The way you’re looking at me right now says you’ve been thinking about this far too much.”
I rolled my eyes. “I have not.”
He leaned back slightly, amusement dancing in his gaze. “You absolutely have.”
Even though I knew I was right, I waved it off. There was no point in arguing. He clearly found the whole thing entertaining and would have reacted differently if he already knew.
“Whatever,” I muttered. “Believe what you want.”
“I will,” he said lightly.
I sighed and straightened. “Did you need me for anything else?”
I was already mentally preparing to escape the room when my phone rang. The sound made my heart leap straight into my throat. No one ever called me randomly in the middle of the day unless something was wrong. I reached for my phone with slightly trembling fingers.
Mom.
My eyes widened.
Before I could even process that, another notification slid across the top of my screen.
Sabrina: I’m so sorry. I accidentally told Mom you have a boyfriend… and that you met his parents recently. I didn’t mean to let it slip. Please don’t hate me.
I groaned loudly.
Callahan’s amusement faded instantly. “What happened?”
I looked at him in horror. “She knows.”
He blinked. “Who knows what?”
“My mother.”
“That doesn’t narrow it down for me.”
“She thinks I have a boyfriend.”
“That’s… not entirely inaccurate.”
“It is when that boyfriend is actually my secret husband.”
His confusion cleared, jaw slackening for just a moment before a wild grin cracked through. He fought to hold back laughter, lips pressed tight until he couldn't contain it.
“You find this funny?” I hissed.
“Immensely.”
I shot him a look that could’ve melted steel.
Before he could say anything else, I answered the call.
“Hi, Mom.”
There was a dramatic inhale on the other end. “Evania Quinn Blackwell!”
I winced and pulled the phone slightly away from my ear.
“How could you keep something like this from me?” she demanded.
“Keep what from you?” I tried weakly.
“Don’t play that game with me. You have a boyfriend. A boyfriend. And I’m hearing about it from someone else?”
I closed my eyes.
“I was going to tell you,” I said carefully.
“When? After you eloped?” she shot back.
The irony nearly made me choke.
“I just—”
“And you met his parents?” she continued, voice rising. “You met his parents before he met us?”
I almost corrected her. I almost said, He’s not my boyfriend. He’s my husband. The words hovered on the tip of my tongue. But I knew better. If I dropped that bomb over the phone, I genuinely believed my mother would suffer either a heart attack or a homicidal episode.
So I swallowed it.
“It just… happened,” I said vaguely.
My father’s voice sounded in the background. “Let me talk to her.”
There was a shuffle, and then my dad cleared his throat. “Evania.”
“Yes, Dad.”
“Is this serious?”
I hesitated.
Callahan was watching me now, his expression no longer amused. Just attentive.
“Yes,” I said softly.
“You should have told us,” my father said calmly.
“I know.”
My mother’s voice came back, louder than before. “You will bring him for dinner this weekend.”
I blinked. “What?”
“Dinner. This weekend. I want to meet this boyfriend of yours.”
“Mom—”
“No excuses. Be here on Saturday.”
“I don’t know if he’s available,” I tried.
“Make him available,” she snapped. “If he’s serious about you, he'll come to dinner.”
My heart pounded.
“I’ll ask him,” I said reluctantly.
“No,” she corrected. “You’ll tell him.”
I sighed. “Okay.”
Her tone softened slightly. “I’m happy for you, you know.”
Guilt tugged at my chest.
“I just wish you had trusted me enough to tell me,” she added.
“I’m sorry.”
“Saturday,” she repeated firmly. “And Evania?”
“Yes?”
“Don't be late.”
I don’t know what Callahan was expecting when I got off the phone. But the longer I stood there in silence, the more serious and nervous he seemed to get.
How could you keep something like this from me?
You met his parents before he met us?
You will bring him for dinner this weekend.
Her words echoed in my mind, refusing to leave me alone. She had every right to be angry. I did keep a lot from her, but the worst part was that there was still so much she didn't know. And I had no idea how to explain myself now, not when she was already disappointed in me.
Callahan cleared his throat softly. “Vani?”
I blinked and looked at him, surprised by what he called me. Was that a pet name?
“Is everything okay?” he asked carefully. “What did she say?”
I swallowed.
Why was my throat suddenly so dry?
“They…” I started, then stopped.
He stepped away from his desk and walked toward me slowly, like I was something fragile that might shatter if he moved too fast.
“Vani, you’re scaring me.”
I huffed out a breath. “I’m scaring you?”
“You look like someone just declared war on your books.”
That almost made me laugh.
Almost.
“They invited you over for dinner.”
The moment the words left my mouth, his shoulders dropped. Relief washed over his face so quickly it almost startled me. He blew out a breath and ran a hand through his hair. “That’s it?”
He gave a soft, almost disbelieving laugh. “Vani, I thought something terrible happened.”
I stared at him. “It is terrible.”
“Dinner isn’t terrible.”
“It is when you got married behind your parents’ backs,” I said quietly. “To someone they’ve never even met.”
That was when his expression shifted again. The relief faded, replaced by understanding. I didn’t look at him as I continued. “They don’t know you, and now you’re suddenly their son-in-law.”
The reality of it pressed down on me all over again. I sat down on the couch because my legs suddenly felt weak. Callahan followed without hesitation and sat beside me. Close enough that our shoulders nearly touched.
“It’s just dinner,” he said gently.
“It’s not just dinner,” I replied. “It’s the first time they’re meeting the man I secretly married.”
He didn’t argue with that.
Instead, he leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on his thighs before turning his head toward me.
“They’re going to look at me and wonder what I was thinking,” I admitted. “They’re going to think I lost my mind.”
His voice lowered. “Did you?”
I met his gaze immediately. “No.”
"Vani," he said softly, "I get why you're nervous, but everything will be okay."
"How can you be so sure?"
"I'm not. I'm optimistic. I can bring something," he offered after a moment. “Flowers or dessert. Something to ease any tension.”
“You’re being sweet,” I said quietly.
He shrugged lightly. “I’m trying.”