Chapter Twelve Sophie #2
As if I conjured him through my thoughts, my phone lights up with a text.
Callum Rhodes: My manager seems displeased today.
He's really on me about making a sale.
Should I contact my union about this?
Attached is a picture of Plot sitting on the cash register counter, looking incredibly unamused at Callum taking his photo. I can see Maeve in the background, wearing a deep emerald colored flowy dress and waving to the camera.
My heart instantly warms at the sight.
And I kind of... wish he was in the picture, too.
I snort and save the photo before replying:
Man, your manager looks like a real hard-ass.
Would definitely file an HR complaint.
Callum Rhodes: Unfortunately, my manager is HR.
The complaint will go where it normally goes—
Right in the litter box.
Hostile work environment.
We should take this to the media!
Callum Rhodes:I think we have a prime-time story on our hands:
"Gray belligerent beast of a boss holds employees hostage for treats."
Also reports he's a potential catnip addict?
More at eleven.
I can't help it, I laugh, loud and unfiltered, before I slap a hand over my mouth to smother it.
Nurse Patti peeks around the corner to check on me, a smile on her face.
"Sorry," I whisper, slightly mortified. I don't want to disturb anyone else—some people are clearly having a tougher time today than I am.
But Patti just shakes her head, her smile gentle, and says, “Don't worry about it,” before disappearing again.
Callum just seems to have a direct line to my funny bone, both intentionally and especially unintentionally, when he says something with an innuendo and then blushes bright red.
It's cute. Definitely unlike some men who try to slide in innuendos, thinking they're being charming, when in reality, they're just being crude.
Callum Rhodes:
Was able to catch the sunrise this morning.
The colors were crazy beautiful.
Figured you'd like to see.
Attached to the text is a photo taken from the boardwalk, soft gold light spilling over the water, streaks of pink, blue, and purple stretching across the sky like brushstrokes. The rising sun reflects in the water, and I can feel the peaceful stillness of the early morning.
I stare at it for a long moment before saving the photo. After only a second's hesitation, I set it as my lockscreen. The sunrises over the water are one of my favorite parts of living here, but I haven't had a chance to see one in a while.
It's beautiful.
Thank you, Callum.
Callum Rhodes: You're welcome.
Just saw it and thought of you.
That he saw something beautiful and thought of me is… just so quietly thoughtful and sweet.
Callum Rhodes: What are your plans for tonight?
Got a date with my bed.
What about you?
The three dots appear. Disappear. Appear again, and my heart starts racing.
Callum Rhodes: Would you like to get food?
To celebrate?
My treat.
No pressure if you're too tired or just don't want to.
Dinner... like a date?
Butterflies appear in my belly, but I immediately scold myself for the thought and my audacity.
He's not asking like that, Sophie. Get a grip. He's your friend. You're not even two weeks out from a broken engagement. He's being kind. A good friend. Friends have dinner together.
Still... the idea of not being alone tonight is too tempting to resist.
Ammas?
Craving some comfort food.
Callum Rhodes: Whatever you want.
You deserve some comfort food.
Can I pick you up from chemo?
Are you sure you're not too busy?
Callum Rhodes: Not too busy for you.
◆◆◆
"Alright, my girl, one down, five more to go," Nurse Patti says with a bright smile as she disconnects the IV from my port. "I know the number seems daunting, but most patients find it goes by pretty fast after the first one. Now you know what to expect."
"Piece of cake so far," I say with a tired but genuine smile.
She gently fixes my shirt and covers the port before helping me stand. I shake the pins and needles from my legs, feeling a few satisfying pops up my spine, and shove my feet into my boots.
Folding my blanket and tucking it into my bag, I swing the tote over my shoulder.
"Thanks, Patti," I wave, and she smiles as she cleans up my area for the next patient.
"You are so welcome, Sophie," she says, then reminds me of aftercare. "Hydrate and rest. If you need anything, don't hesitate to call us."
"I will, have a good night," I say over my shoulder as I walk to the door. My phone buzzes in my hand, and I smile at the text.
Callum Rhodes: Your chariot awaits.
Translation—I'm out front.
Stepping outside, the crisp breeze instantly refreshes me. My smile only widens when I spot Callum's familiar truck idling at the curb, and the gentle giant himself leaning casually against the hood.
His whole face lights up when he sees me, his grin wide and warm as he pushes off the front of the truck and strides toward me.
The closer he gets, the more my neck has to tilt back to look in his eyes. I like how tall he is, how solid he looks. He's dressed in a white Henley today, dark jeans, and his usual boots. His hair looks a little wet, as if he just got out of the shower, and his beard looks freshly trimmed.
Oh… and he smells really good.
"Hi," I say, a little breathless.
"Hey," he replies softly, eyes scanning me top to bottom, not with scrutiny or leering, just with a care that makes my cheeks flush.
Without a word, he reaches out and slides the strap of the tote off my shoulder, grinning when he sees which bag I brought. He loops it easily over his own broad shoulder and meets my eyes, tilting his head.
"You feeling okay?"
"Y-Yeah—yes. I'm fine. Totally fine. Thank you," I assure him, stumbling over my words, and he looks a little bemused.
I'll just blame chemo brain, it works that fast, right?
Callum nods toward the truck, gently placing his hand on my back to guide me to the passenger side. His touch is light, barely there, but I really hope he didn't feel my spine straighten instantly at the contact.
Like last time, he opens the door for me and helps me in, making sure I'm settled before closing the door.
As he starts the car, I lean my head back against the seat and take deep breaths. I realize that I really do feel fine, maybe a little hungry, and definitely looking forward to crawling into my bed tonight, but I'm okay. Truly.
One down, five to go...
Once we're on the road, Callum clears his throat and catches my attention.
"There's... uh, bags in the back, behind my seat," he says, his voice quiet. "Just in case."
"Worried I'll yak in your truck?" I tease him.
He smiles, flashing those perfect teeth. For a second, the sight makes my mind go blank.
"No," he says, drawing the word out with a quiet chuckle. "I just read that some people get nauseous after. There are mints in the cupholder if you need them. And I grabbed some ginger candies at the store, they're in the glove box. Oh, and I have water—"
"Callum," I interrupt softly, reaching out and laying a hand on his forearm.
His muscles tense under my fingers, and his gaze flicks to mine, just for a heartbeat, before darting quickly back to the road. I swear my heart does a little somersault in my chest.
"Thank you," I say, meaning it for more than he probably realizes.
"Yeah, well," he shrugs, glancing at me sideways with a grin, "I just got the truck washed, so maybe I'm a little worried about the yak."
"I knew it!”
We both burst out laughing and don't stop until we're parked outside Amma's. Walking inside, Kavi greets me by name and perfectly recites my usual order. This makes Callum raise an eyebrow at me, his face amused.
"I told you they're my comfort food."
Callum chuckles before paying, both of us just deciding to split my order of butter chicken and naan.
He carries the food, and I carry our water bottles as we walk down the boardwalk to find a spot overlooking the bay.
We find an unoccupied bench and take our time eating as the light streaks golden to pink.
We comfortably eat from the same container and when we both reach for the same piece of chicken at the same time, we playfully declare a fork war.
Battling it out, he yields, and I chew it victoriously.
Callum laughs at me being ridiculous, and I bask in the lightness of the moment after an anxious morning.
"Sunrise or sunset?" Callum asks me, taking a bite of naan.
"Sunrise," I reply without hesitation. "I'm more of a morning person anyway. There's a certain stillness in the early mornings that I like. The way the sky just slowly gets lighter and lighter feels kind of… hopeful to me. Is that cheesy?"
Callum’s face shifts at my words, his expression tender. My cheeks heat in response, and I take a bite of food, just for something to do.
"No, it’s not cheesy. I can agree with the sentiment," he says, chewing thoughtfully. "But I really like sunsets."
He smiles, kind of dreamily, and I follow his gaze out toward the edge of the sky.
"I must've gotten it from my mom," he adds, voice softer now, "but there's just something about watching the day gently fade away. It, uh..." He pauses, a little sheepish. "Sunsets always remind me of The Outsiders. I really loved that book."
"'Stay gold, Ponyboy,'" I quote with a soft laugh, turning my head to look at him. His brown eyes are already on me, and he’s smiling. "That’s one of my favorite books."
The silence that stretches between us isn't awkward or uncomfortable. It doesn’t need to be filled, so we don't. We keep eating as we watch the sun dip, our shoulders brushing every so often.
"I think there's something so beautifully sad about that poem, though," I keep my voice as soft as I can, not wanting to disrupt this moment.
"Nothing Gold Can Stay?" Callum clarifies, and I nod, not taking my eyes off the horizon.
"Reminding us that precious moments and beauty and... people don't last forever. To stop and appreciate them with the time you have, to enjoy life while you can..."
My voice catches as the feelings rush in at once, emotion tightening my throat.
There’s gratitude for this moment, for the sunset and this wonderful friend next to me, and the meal we shared.
There’s fear, from the cells that live inside me now, actively trying to kill me.
There’s anxiety about the future, the tomorrows ahead and how many I'll actually get. ..
Just months ago, I was planning a completely different life. This version I'm in now never even crossed my mind, not even in my worst nightmares.
Callum's eyes are on me again, weighted like a thick blanket. There’s an expression on his face that reads understanding, and I honestly think he might. He doesn't try to fill the silence with meaningless reassurances or bright-side platitudes.
He doesn't fill the space with false hope.
He just stays.
He's staying, my heart whispers in awe.
The sun finally dips below the edge of the world, bleeding orange and violet across the sky. I draw in a slow, trembling breath, needing this moment to stretch out, just a little while longer. I would live in this moment if I could.
"I think… that's the most important and beautiful thing," I whisper finally. "It forces us to really stop and appreciate. To take a moment and breathe and look around."
A warmth envelops my hand, and I already know it's his. A little rough and callused, but so warm and strong. I flip my hand so we're palm to palm now, fingers lacing together as a slow, pulsing current travels up my arm.
The world goes silent, no distant hum from the boardwalk, no cars, nothing but peace. It feels like it’s just us in the whole world, and it may as well be.
We stay like that for a while, long past the sun disappearing below the horizon.
And somehow, my wish for this moment to stretch just a little longer is granted.