Chapter 195 Callum （His Ending）
callum (his ending)
He wasn’t a question I had to answer. He was the finish line I’d already crossed a thousand times in my heart. –Aurelie
We landed just before dusk.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been this nervous.
Not because I thought she’d say no or because I was afraid of commitment. But because I wanted this to be perfect. And part of me—some stubborn, stupid, human part—was still terrified she’d think it was too soon.
We’d been full speed ahead since day one. What did "too soon" even mean when the rest of your life had already started?
I helped her from the plane and guided her to the waiting car, placing a hand on her thigh the moment the doors closed—just to make sure she didn’t slip away.
I needed that anchor. The reminder that she was here.
That we were doing this. That I had a ring in my pocket and the woman I loved beside me.
The drive from the tiny island airstrip to the villa only took about twenty minutes, but my heart was in my throat the whole time.
She didn’t notice. Or maybe she did and didn’t say anything.
She looked too perfect in that dress, all sunkissed skin and effortless joy.
Meanwhile, I was white-knuckling the steering wheel, praying I didn’t fuck this up.
When we pulled up to the villa, I caught the moment the view stole her breath.
It was carved into the cliffside, all whitewashed stone and breezy linen curtains. Archways instead of doors. Silence instead of walls. The kind of place that made time slow down. Made you believe it could wait for you to be ready.
Or in this case, for us to be ready.
I carried our bags just inside, dropped them beside the couch, and tipped my head toward the beach path. I’d planned this to the second, and the sun was nearly where I wanted it.
We stepped out onto the terrace, and there it was—the setup I’d been coordinating for weeks.
A stone pathway trailed down through wildflowers toward the private beach. Lanterns flickered along a path of rose petals, leading to a canopy-covered table set in the sand. Olives, fruit, champagne. A bottle sweating in a bucket. Candles scattered across the setup like stars.
And beyond it all—the Aegean, glittering and tempting us to indulge.
Istepped up behind her, letting my hands rest on her shoulders. She didn’t lean away. She just stood there, eyes wide. It warmed my heart knowing I could give her an experience she hadn’t yet had. And we were doing it together for the first time.
“Welcome to Milos, my love,” I murmured, my accent thick. Thicker than I meant, but my nerves were getting the best of me.
She exhaled like it was the first breath she’d taken all day. “This is insane.”
“It’s just dinner.”
She looked up at me, brow raised. “You flew us on your private jet, booked a cliffside villa, and coordinated an intimate dinner on the beach timed with the sun setting.”
I smirked, because I couldn’t help it. “Like I said. Just dinner.”
I held out my arm. She took it. And I think I fell in love with her all over again just from the way she smiled.
We walked barefoot down the path. I helped her with her shoes, pressing a kiss to her ankle when I slipped the last one off. The moment felt sacred. Weightless. Like we were suspended in something golden and untouchable.
When we reached the table, I didn’t let her sit. Instead, I turned her toward the horizon. My fingers brushed down her arm, laced with hers. The sky bled lavender and pink. Her hair moved in the breeze.
And I thought: this is it. This is where we begin.
I stepped around her, dropped to one knee, and watched her soul leave her body.
The wind caught her hair, tangling it like silk threads in the fading sun. She stood barefoot in the sand, backlit by golden light, wearing that white fluttery little dress that clung to her body like it had been made to worship every inch of her. Like it belonged on her skin, just like I did.
I swear I stopped breathing. I’d touched her body a thousand times. I’d worshipped it. Memorized it. Prayed to it. But tonight, something felt different. Like I was seeing her again for the first time.
And her smile—Christ. That smile. Soft and radiant and wet with tears, hazel eyes shimmering like they held the whole fucking universe. The same eyes that had seen through every version of me, that haunted me, that saved me.
She was beautiful every damn day of her life. But tonight… she was divine.
She gasped, my name catching in her throat. “Callum—”
“Let me say it first,” I pleaded, heart pounding in a bruising rhythm.
I needed the words out. I needed her to know.
The breeze whipped past me. My throat burned. My hands were shaking like I was about to take a corner at 200 miles per hour with no brakes. But when I looked up at her again… everything calmed. The waves faded. The nerves ebbed. I found her, and suddenly I could breathe again.
“I’ve been in love with you since the moment you crashed into my world.”
She laughed—rattling, tearful, stunned. “I didn’t mean to.”
“It’s what you were born to do.” I smiled, catching her left hand and brushing my thumb over her knuckles.
I could see it in her eyes now. The disbelief, the awe, the hope she’d tried so hard to bury.
“But from that first moment, I knew I’d never come back from you.
You walked in wielding a smile like a weapon, and I was gone. ”
I swallowed, emotioning flooding me.
“You wrecked me, Aurélie. In every way that matters. You were the crash I never walked away from. You made everything I thought I wanted feel small. I tried to fight it. God, I fought it. But no matter how hard I drove, how fast I went, how far I ran—there you were. Always there. Always the finish line.”
I reached into my pocket, pulling out the ring box.
I opened the box and offered it to her like a prayer. The ring sat inside like it had always belonged to her, even before its creation. Just like us.
I’d gone back and forth on this design for weeks. I wanted it to be hers. Only hers. Built for her, like she’d been built for me. I worked with a custom jeweler across three continents and seven time zones. Sketched out the structure with him myself.
At the center sat an elongated oval diamond, set north to south—like a track. No beginning. No end. A circuit in perpetual motion. Like us.
Around it, a soft octagonal halo of tapered baguette diamonds. Subtle embankments like the corners of a grand prix circuit. Each one symbolizing something—pain, joy, glory, heartbreak. Every impossible corner we’d survived.
The band was platinum, tapered at the base.
I asked them to pavé the diamonds only halfway around, so the bottom would stay smooth against her skin.
I thought about her fingers curled around a steering wheel.
Her hand gripping mine for years to come.
The way her knuckles flexed when she was trying not to cry.
I wanted this to provide her comfort in life’s wildest moments.
And under the setting, hidden from the world, were two tiny gemstones. One pink. One red. Side by side. Between them, a checkered flag, lightly etched. Faint as a secret.
Pink for the softness I swore I’d protect. Red for the fury that made me get to her unstoppable. The flag for every line we crossed and never came back from.
It wasn’t flashy. It wasn’t traditional. It was her. Strong. Elegant. Fierce. It was our past, our present, and every future we hadn’t lived yet.
“Aurélie Dubois,” I said, voice steady and sure. “I love you. More than I’ve ever loved anything in my life. More than racing. More than winning. More than I even thought was possible.”
She was shaking. I could see it in her shoulders, her mouth, the way her hand hovered over her chest like she couldn’t decide if she wanted to fall or fly.
“You changed me. You made me better. You gave me something to believe in that wasn’t just a finish line. You gave me hope. You made me fearless. Because if I had you, then I had nothing to be afraid of.”
I stood.
“Every time you choose me,” I whispered, stepping closer, holding the ring like it held everything I couldn’t say, “I feel like I’ve won the whole fucking world.
But I don’t want to be a prize. And I don’t want to put you on a podium like that’s the only place you belong.
I just want to be your person. Your softness. Your home. Your shield.”
She made a sound that nearly brought me to my knees again. A sob. A laugh. A breathless kind of yes. Her eyes were shining rivers—those eyes that had bewitched me from the start.
“I know you’ve spent your whole life trying to prove you don’t need anyone. And you don’t. You are enough on your own. You always have been.” My voice cracked. “But I would be the luckiest man alive if you let me love you anyway.”
I leaned toward her. “Because I love you, Aurélie. All of you. Not just the best parts. Not just the hurricane that is you. Not just the woman who sees me for who I am and loves me more for it. But the girl who cries in the shower. The one who breaks down when no one’s watching.
The one who runs when she’s scared. The one who doesn’t always know what she wants—except when it’s this.
Except when it’s me. And I want this. For the rest of our lives. ”
I sucked in a deep breath, then asked it, the only way I knew how.
“Aurélie, my love, the champion of my heart,” I paused, switching to her language for the most important question of my life, “veux-tu m'épouser?”
Will you marry me?
Her body hit mine like an exhale, like gravity finally claimed her.
“Yes,” she gasped. “Yes, yes, yes! Oui, un million de fois!” Yes, a million times. “Like I would ever say no.”
I laughed, because that was the exact response I’d expected.
I held her as she cried. As she kissed me. As she said it again and again, knocking me back onto the sand until she was on top of me, clutching me like she was terrified she’d wake up and it would all disappear.
But it wouldn’t. I slid that ring on her finger, and I knew.
It wasn’t too soon. Nothing about us had ever followed a timeline. We’d been full throttle since the day she crashed into my world. There was no such thing as too fast when forever already felt overdue.
She said yes.
She said yes.
And I was hers. Forever.
TO BE CONTINUED…