58. CALLUM

58

CALLUM

Bar stools are pulled out on either side of me. They don’t speak, but from my peripherals, they gesture and nod at the bartender for drinks. We sit in silence for three rounds of drinks.

The alcohol does nothing for the numbness I feel inside.

“Sienna isn’t my mother,” I tell them before George or Liam can start a game of twenty questions. I know their patience, at least George’s, will run out soon.

George coughs, his drink dribbling down his light chocolate skin. Liam takes a deep pull of air.

“My dad had an affair.”

“When did you find out?”

I catch them up on the morning of the engagement, going to my parent’s house for Chloe’s purse. That once the words slipped past my mother’s lips, the glass house I was living in shattered.

The box I put myself into my entire life was purposeless. The love I craved false. The constant seeking of approval only to be brushed into the shadows. Expectations higher and harder to reach—yet I reached them every time—than my siblings.

All of it makes sense.

I never had a shot at gaining her approval or love, and she utilized my brothers to put me down.

“George. Liam,” my father greets my mates, clapping each of their shoulders. “Thank you for finding him. I can take it from here.”

The guys move to settle their tabs, but Dad tells them not to, that he has our bill for the night .

It’s taken me a few days to figure out what I want to say. How to address Dad and Sienna. They’ve called and I’ve avoided answering.

Before leaving, Liam says, “Let me know when you’re heading home.”

Home.

Home to the only place, the only person that has truly ever made me feel as if there isn’t anything else they need from me except who I am.

Home is Chloe. Chloe Henry is my home.

It’s been a little over a week since she left. We’ve called and texted here and there.

Looking over at Liam, I nod. He must see it on my face, the wave of uncertainty that she’ll be upset, or worse, will finally see me how everyone else sees me. “She loves you, mate. She’ll be there. And all of this–” Liam makes circles with his hand. “Doesn’t change anything.” He gives me another hug. “For any of us. We love you.”

George and Liam leave. My dad replaces Liam in the seat to my right.

“I made a mistake veering away from your mother,” he starts as soon as they are out the door.

“She isn’t my mother,” I bite back.

“Callum,” he exhales. “Let me start again. I made a mistake when I veered away from Sienna. No one saw our struggles—the pain we were inflicting on each other. Bitterness and jealousy were at the center of our relationship. We were still in love; it was just buried under burdens that neither of us were willing to work through.

“I started a new job when I met your mom. Everything that I was missing at home, she returned. Easy conversation, laughter, and camaraderie. An emotional life jacket. Whenever I thought I was drowning at home, there she was to breathe life back into me. Over time, we drifted further together until I crossed a line.”

“How long were you sleeping with her? ”

“Six months before we found out she was pregnant with you.”

“You were with her for fifteen months?” Dad shakes his head no. “When did you call it off?”

“The month prior to learning about you after I came clean to Sienna. At the time, your mom understood. She was gracious and forgiving about it. Then we found out she was pregnant. She was told she wouldn’t be able to get pregnant. You were a miracle for her.”

I shake my head. How could I ever be seen as a miracle?

Dad keeps going. “Sienna wasn’t thrilled to find out. It took several months, almost a year, of counseling to rebirth life into our relationship.”

“Did you want that? Did you ever think about leaving?”

“Not once did I ever consider leaving. I had your brothers, and Sienna is the love of my life. My faults aside, she truly is.”

“What happened. . . how did you end up with me?”

“Your mom had a complicated pregnancy. Pre-existing medical conditions flared.”

My throat goes dry, my eyes coated with a thickening layer of moisture. I close them, trying to fight off any tears. What was so wrong with me that my mother died during labor?

A light bulb must go off in my dad’s head, realization striking across his face. “Oh, no. She didn’t pass during labor. You were almost a year when she passed. The conditions her pregnancy flared up never went away. She fought every day for you. I promise.

“When she knew she had limited time, she asked me to take you. But she never needed to ask. I loved you the minute I found out about you. Sienna was uneasy about bringing you into our home. The image. How your brothers would feel. None of that mattered to me. You were mine, and that was settled.”

He reaches into his jacket pocket, pulling out a collection of photos rubber banded together. “These are from her pregnancy and the year she spent with you. ”

“You’ve held onto them.” The expression on my face is a combination of confusion and astonishment.

“For you.” I flip through them. Her blues eyes magnetic, a mirror image of mine. “You look like her.”

“Why didn’t you two tell me?”

“You wouldn’t have understood at a young age.”

“But when I was older. . .”

“We decided it was better that you didn’t know. And I’m sorry we took that away from you.”

“I’ve always wondered why she hated me, why I could never be enough for her. Constant critique and demands to be more like them. It was because I was never hers, never would be able to be like them.”

“Callum, I promise deep down she loves you. After Holland passed, even as hesitant as Sienna was, that woman loved you. There were nights when you wouldn’t stop crying. Screaming and wailing that we thought your little lungs would give out. She would hold you or sleep on the floor in your room with one hand in your crib to make sure you were okay.

“Then, your second Christmas, when you understood what Santa and gifts were. Oh, you were spoiled. She couldn’t stop buying you presents. Anything you wanted or touched in a store, she’d get. She loved you.”

“What changed?”

“I can’t answer that because I don’t know.”

“You saw how she spoke to me. How she treated me in comparison to them.”

“I did.”

“Then why didn’t you do anything? Was I always just some mistake?”

“Never, Callum. You aren’t a mistake. We always wanted the four of you to see us as a unified front. We’d speak in private about how she was treating you. I’d call her out, try to help correct her parenting, but she is her own person who gets to decide her actions. I cannot control her or force her to behave a certain way. It hurt me. It put a strain on our relationship. It hurts to know how she treated you did this damage to you.”

“All I wanted was for her to love me. To see me like them and Audrey. To be proud of me.” He starts to speak, but I cut him off. “She won’t. Don’t try to convince me otherwise. I need to accept this. I’ll never be them.”

“You don’t need to be them. You only need to be you.” He cups my shoulder. “I’m beyond proud of the man that you are, Callum, and I love you. Always.”

Young Callum needed those words. Adult Callum needed them more.

“What was my mom’s name?”

“Holland Jasper.”

“My middle name.”

“And your first name, Callum. That was your great-grandfather who raised her.”

I know I’ll never get to meet her in this life, but somehow I know in my next life I will. But for now having those names, I feel close to her.

“Will you tell me more about her?”

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