Chapter 23
Danielle
I've been seeing Cal and Hannah every day since the board meeting a week ago. Last night, before I left, Cal wrapped his arms around me and kissed me like time was standing still just for us. He kissed me until there was no doubt that what we share isn’t just attraction, chemistry, or even a strong connection.
What we have is a bond that makes me want to forget the hurt, the past, and everything that came before.
Even though my heart screamed for me to stay, neither of us wanted to let things go too far. So I reluctantly walked to the door, where he kissed me goodnight and promised he’d come over in the morning to make me breakfast after he dropped Hannah off at the bus stop.
I stand next to him, slicing strawberries and bananas while he pours batter into the waffle maker.
As he closes the lid, the waffle maker lets out a quiet hiss and a puff of steam.
He leans in to nuzzle my neck, his short beard tickling my skin and sending a thrilling sensation through me.
I smile and pull him in for a kiss—a long, thorough kiss that makes my heart race.
He pulls away briefly, smiling with one eyebrow raised. “You taste like strawberries,” he whispers in my ear before kissing me again.
I smile against his lips. “You taste like syrup.”
“What time is Tina coming home again?” he asks, pulling me closer.
“Nine,” I reply. “Why? Did you have something in mind?”
"Always," he says, his tone teasing. He brushes his lips against mine, then turns his attention back to the waffle maker. He opens the lid and uses a fork to lift the last two perfectly golden waffles out, setting them onto a platter before placing it on the table.
He pulls out a chair for me and then takes a seat beside me.
"I have something important to tell you," he says, his tone still light.
I blow into my cup of coffee and take a sip. "Oh yeah? What is it?"
"When my parents got married," he begins, his voice soft, "they were young, but they both knew they wanted to start a family right away.
They tried for three years before it became clear they had fertility issues.
They saw doctors, went through tests and treatments for two years, before finally giving up on the idea of having children of their own. "
I hadn’t expected this, and the surprise must show on my face because when I catch Cal’s gaze, the look he gives me tells me he knows exactly what I’m thinking.
"They were in their mid twenties when they started fostering. The first children they took in were two cousins."
"Cal..." I murmur, the words hanging in the air. I don’t want to draw any conclusions, but I can’t stop the picture forming in my mind.
He nods, a quiet acknowledgment in his eyes, confirming I’m starting to piece it together. "I was five, and Nate was ten," he adds, the words hanging between us. "By then, we had already been in the system for two years. I was too young to remember those early years, but Nate remembers everything."
There's a shift in the air—a heaviness—as the pieces click into place. He’s not just sharing his past; he’s offering a deeper truth.
His past looks a lot like mine. He is to Nate what Beth was to me.
The only difference is, they got adopted together.
As hard as the Callahans tried to give Beth and me the same outcome, it turned out completely different.
"That day I saw you and Beth walking down the street with backpacks bursting at the seams, a scared look on your face, and a pace that told me you were running, I thought of Nate and me.
We ran away twice before we were placed with the Callahans.
My heart broke for you two. I wanted to hug you and tell you everything was going to be okay.
But I had to separate the cop I was from the little boy my cousin had protected every day since the day I was born. "
"Oh, Cal," I whisper, fighting back tears. "Why didn’t you ever tell me?"
He shrugs. "I was going to. Then everything happened. I never wanted to overshadow your story or pretend I fully understood what you’ve been through.
I was five when we were adopted. I don’t remember much before then.
But if anyone can relate to what you’ve been through—even if just a little—it’s Nate. "
"You two look so much alike," I say, offering him a small smile. "I think I remember Tina calling Nate your evil twin."
Cal laughs. "I think I’m much better looking."
"And let's not forget much more humble," I say, giving him a little nudge with my shoulder.
He shoots me a self-deprecating smile before continuing. "Uncle Nathan served in the military and died overseas when Nate was six. My father was a cop, and he died a year later responding to a domestic disturbance call."
"Oh my God," I gasp, covering my mouth.
"I got a tattoo on the inside of my bicep in honor of our dads," he says.
"I don't think I've seen that one," I say, just as he lifts his arm and turns it to reveal the last name Reed in big, bold script.
I touch it lightly with my fingertips, my heart beating a little faster as I meet Cal's gaze. Now I understand the importance of his tattoos. They’re pieces of his story, etched into his skin, each one carrying weight, memories, and sacrifice.
Now I see the depth behind them, the history and the meaning that I hadn’t fully understood until this moment.
There's so much I still have to learn about this man. He's not the monster I once thought. He’s a kind, sweet man who tried to protect me and my sister from the evils of the world by stopping us that day. And thanks to him, my sister was spared, safe and loved.
"Cal," I begin, my voice catching in my throat. "I owe you an apology. I was wrong about everything. I see that now. I also owe you a thank you for what you did for us that day."
"I'm just sorry I dropped the ball," he says. "And didn't do more to find you."
"What happened to me was not your fault," I say, my eyes locked on his. "It was never your fault."
"How about we start over?" he says, a smile tugging at his lips. "Hi, my name is Jackson Reed Callahan, and from the moment I met you, you took my breath away."
"That’s because I bit you," I say. "I owe you an apology for that, too."
"You were just a little girl back then," he says gently. "You were trying to protect your sister. I would've done the same. But I'm talking about the day we met on the trail."
"Then it was the miles we ran together," I tease, nudging him playfully. "Cal, I don’t want to start over. I like what we have, and I wouldn't change a thing about how we got here."
"Do you believe in destiny?" he asks, taking my hand.
"I do now," I say, as my heart fills with love and hope for the future—with him.
"So, you forgive me?" he asks, holding my gaze, the sincerity in his eyes clear. "I need to hear you say it."
"I don’t think there’s anything to forgive," I say, my heart softening. "But yes, I forgive you. Do you forgive me?"
He nods. "Yes, I forgive you, too. Can we seal it with a kiss?"
"Yes," I whisper, leaning in. Before our lips meet, he whispers, "I love you, Elle."
"I love you too," I reply, my voice full of certainty.
This kiss is different. It's as if we’re pouring everything that happened up to this point into it—releasing the past and welcoming a new beginning.
The beginning of our love story. The way it was meant to be written.
Without hurts, mistakes, or misunderstandings.
Just love and forgiveness. A new beginning, sealed with a perfect kiss.
"Hey, you two, get a room!" Tina's voice echoes in the quiet room as she steps inside. She drops her keys into her purse before tossing it onto the couch. "Didn't you hear me wrestling with the door? That must’ve been one hell of a good kiss."
"It was!" I reply, unable to hide a smile. "Do you want to join us for breakfast?"
"Don’t mind if I do," she says, already reaching for a coffee mug. "Cal, you're here awfully early... or did you spend the night?"
"That’s none of your business," I blurt out, feeling a rush of heat to my face. "But no, Cal did not spend the night."
Tina grabs a fork from the drawer, stabs two waffles, and slides them onto a plate. She pours syrup over them, making sure every single square is covered.
Sitting across from me, she eyes me suspiciously. "What’s going on?" she asks. "Why do I get the feeling I walked in on something a lot more serious than just a steamy lip lock?"
I glance at Cal, who smiles before turning to Tina. “Nate and I are adopted,” he says simply.
“Really?” she says, not looking the least bit surprised. “Well, that would explain a lot.”
“How so?” Cal asks.
“You’re, what? A few years younger than Nate?
” she says, as if drawing an important conclusion.
“Your brother has a chip on his shoulder the size of Texas. He’s rude, obnoxious, and short-tempered.
If he lived through anything close to what Elle did, his behavior at least has a root cause.
I can somewhat understand why he’s such a jerk. ”
“Cut him some slack,” Cal says. “I’m not making excuses for him, but you basically interrogated him when all he was doing was picking up the girls.”
“I didn’t know!” Tina defends herself. “I thought he was lurking.”
“Tina,” I say. “You made a mistake. Let’s just leave it at that.”
“Fine!” Tina says, picking up a forkful of waffles. “So what’s your story, Mr. Callahan?”
After catching Tina up to speed on his and Nate's childhood, Cal picks up where he left off.
“When Mom and Dad adopted us, we kept our last name, Reed, as a middle name. Nate was older, and that was a compromise he could accept. He remembers his dad. I only have glimpses of memories; nothing concrete.”
“What about your mothers?” Tina asks.
I turn to Cal, realizing we hadn’t touched on that part yet—and I hadn’t thought to ask.
“Let’s see,” Cal begins, looking away as if trying to recall a distant memory. “I know our grandmother was the one raising us after her sons died. First, it was Nate, then me.”
"That poor woman lost both sons?" I say, feeling an overwhelming sense of sympathy for Cal's grandma.
“Do you know where they are?” Tina asks, a look of disbelief crossing her face. "Your mothers?"
"I know Uncle Nathan met Nate's mother when he was stationed in Germany. Honestly, I don’t know much more than that."
"You’ve never asked?" Tina says, raising an eyebrow. "Just out of curiosity?"
"Nate’s a private person," Cal replies. "That part of his life is something he keeps to himself. I don’t know if it’s out of reverence or if it’s something he’d rather forget. Either way, I don’t pry."
"What about your mother?" I ask carefully, wondering if Cal will be open to sharing.
"I don’t know," he says, shaking his head. "The fact that our grandmother raised us—and I don’t have a single memory of my mother—makes me think she was never in the picture."
"I'm sorry," I say, reaching for his hand. He takes it gently and brings it to his lips, kissing it softly. My heart melts and breaks for him.
"My mother’s absence feels a lot like what my own daughter experiences. That's why I’m so adamant about Meghan being present for Hannah. I don’t want history to repeat itself."
I nod in agreement, completely understanding how important it is for Cal to ensure Hannah knows her mother and has a relationship with her.
"Does Beth know?" I ask.
Cal nods. "When we asked her if she’d like our parents to adopt her, she was a little confused. Nate and I sat down with her and explained we were adopted too. It meant she'd be part of our family forever."
"She never mentioned anything," I say.
"Beth is young," he begins, "but she’s pretty sensible. She left it up to me to decide when and how to share that part of my life with you."
“What about the twins?” Tina asks. “Are they adopted too?”
“No,” Cal replies. “They were born two years after we were adopted.”
He chuckles, then adds, “Dad got me and Nate matching ‘Big Brother’ T-shirts and made us wear them to the hospital the day they were born. Nate says it was the most embarrassing day of his life.”
Tina rolls her eyes, a teasing smile on her face. “Why doesn't that surprise me? That guy is such a grump!”
"If I didn’t know any better, I’d think my brother’s grumpy charm is starting to work on you," Cal teases.
"I think we should change the subject," I offer, glancing at Tina.
"I think you're absolutely right," Tina says, glancing between Cal and me. "Let’s change the subject."
Something in her tone makes Cal look up from his waffles, his fork suspended in midair.
“What is it?” I ask, curiosity prickling at the edge of my voice.
“Not a what,” Tina says with a grin. “A who. You’ll never guess who I met last night.”
She pauses for a long moment for dramatic effect, then takes a deep breath.
“None other than the rich, powerful, and hotter-than-sin, Vincent Fletcher.”
Cal blinks. “You met Vincent?”
Tina nods.
“Where? How?” I ask.
She leans back in her chair with a proud smirk. “Turns out, the man has a severe peanut allergy. He was having a dinner meeting with one of his partners, and the dish they served him had traces of peanuts in the sauce.”
“Is he okay?” Cal asks, concern threading his voice.
Tina waves a hand. “He is now. I basically saved his life.”
I narrow my eyes, skeptical. “In other words, you administered epinephrine?”
She sits up straighter, clearly enjoying the drama of it all.
“He came into the ER wheezing, lips swelling, face red—I mean, the man looked like he got into a losing match with a hornet’s nest. He was clutching his throat, gasping for air.
So yes, I grabbed an EpiPen off the crash cart like a boss and jabbed him.
Then I stayed with him until he was stable. ”
Cal chuckles. “Sounds like he owes you.”
“Oh, he said exactly that,” Tina says, brushing imaginary lint from her shoulder. “And then he called me a ‘calm, commanding presence.’ I mean, he's not wrong.”
She glances between us, eyes gleaming. “If this man wasn’t Meghan’s father, I might’ve climbed right into that hospital bed with him.”
“Tina!” I laugh.
She shrugs. “Just saying. Near-death experiences bring people closer.”
Cal shakes his head, smiling. “I wouldn’t recommend you do that.”
“Do what?” Tina asks, as if challenging Cal’s warning.
“Get close to Vincent Fletcher.”
“It might be too late, darling,” Tina says, a smile crossing her lips. “He asked for my phone number.”
“The man must be at least twice your age!" I exclaim.
“He's not old," Tina says. "The man is mature. Like an excellent bottle of wine—aged to perfection, full-bodied, and worth savoring slowly.”