Chapter 33
THIRTY-THREE
Birdie
Callum has been a complete mess ever since we got home from the clinic.
The second we walked through the door, Ollie knew something was wrong. Ollie’s currently trailing behind Callum as he paces back and forth in the kitchen, running his fingers through his tousled hair.
“Callum, please just sit down,” I beg, motioning toward the kitchen table.
I convinced him to let me drive us home due to his state of mind. We sat in silence the entire ride as Callum rubbed his sweaty palms up and down his thighs. He grew more and more anxious with each mile that passed. When I tried to start up a conversation to get his mind off of everything, he just shook his head.
“Please sit down, babe.”
He’s making me a nervous wreck with all his frantic pacing .
“I can’t,” he retorts. “I can’t fucking think straight right now.”
“I understand that,” I say calmly. “But you don’t have to have it all figured out at this very moment, Cal. Like I said, the next step should be getting a second opinion–”
“I’m not going through all those tests again,” he interjects. “The past month has been pure hell. I’m tired of being poked and prodded.”
I arch a brow, folding my arms over my chest.
“First off, they probably won’t have to run all the tests again. The doctor will most likely want to take a second look at your results,” I clarify. “And secondly, you should be open to doing anything if it means taking care of your health. Don’t be so careless, Callum.”
He stops walking to turn and look at me. Dread pools in his blue irises.
“I have it, Birdie,” he says, defeat lacing his tone. “I have MS. There’s no doubt in my mind. I’ve been looking up my symptoms for weeks, and I just knew it. Before Dr. Sharpe revealed my diagnosis, I felt it deep in my bones.”
I’ve been looking up my symptoms for weeks, and I just knew it.
If he only knew how many patients I see per week that self-diagnose through Google and get it completely wrong.
“So, you’re a doctor now?”
“What?” He narrows his eyes at me.
“Are you a doctor, Callum?”
“No.”
“Exactly,” I clip. “So you’re getting a second opinion because that is what you do when you get a major diagnosis like this.”
He scoffs, looking up at the ceiling before returning his gaze to me.
“And what’s the plan when I find out from a second doctor that I have MS?”
“Then, you’ll start making treatment decisions, such as dietary changes, medication, physical therapy…You have options, Cal.”
He pushes a hand through his hair.
“And what do you want, Birdie?” he exhales. “Do you want to be with someone like me for the rest of your life? Someone who’s going to be a financial burden. Someone who needs a fucking caretaker?”
I furrow my brows in shock at his crass tone.
“What are you saying?”
He continues pacing. Ollie whimpers before getting up to trail behind his dad.
“For all I know, I could be wheelchair-bound by the time I’m fifty,” he continues. “What if I’m not able to pick up our kids or teach them how to play sports? What if I can’t take care of you in the way that a husband should?”
“I’ve taken care of myself for twenty-nine years, Callum. I don’t need you to take care of me. I just need you to love me.”
His steps falter at my response.
“And most MS patients will never need a wheelchair,” I add. “With the right care, many of them go on to live a very normal life. I understand that this news is shocking and scary, but it’s not a fucking death sentence. But just like any other illness, it can be if you don’t have the right mindset. I’ve literally watched patients will themselves to die. You have to try your best to stay optimistic, Callum. Your mindset will be a crucial element of your treatment.”
His shoulders slump as he runs a hand against the back of his neck.
“But what if I'm in the minority that doesn't get so lucky?”
“And what if I were to get in a car accident and die next week?” I retort. “Because you know that’s a possibility, right? People get in wrecks every day. So does that mean you should leave me because there’s a chance I could die tomorrow?”
He shakes his head.
“Birdie, that’s not what I’m saying–”
“That’s exactly what you’re saying.”
Callum exhales a deep breath before resting his lower back against the island. A dark curl falls against his forehead as he slowly lifts his gaze to me.
“You deserve a man that can be there for you, Birdie,” he rasps. “A husband that can take care of you. You deserve the fucking world, and what if I can’t give that to you?”
My face flushes with frustration.
“How about you stop telling me what I deserve?” I raise my voice. “Because all I’ve ever wanted my entire fucking life is you, Callum Pierce! Even when I wanted so badly to hate you, I was still head over heels in love with you.”
“Birdie…” he stammers.
“For the past decade, I was living in pure and utter hell,” I add through gritted teeth. “You put me through hell when you left, Callum. So don’t you dare tell me what I deserve when this is the happiest I’ve been since we were kids. What I deserve is my life back. My best friend. After eleven torturous years, I finally feel like I can breathe normally again.”
My voice shakes with every word.
The anger coursing through my veins dissipates when Callum lets out a low sob. He slides down the kitchen island and drops to the floor.
Fuck.
He looks utterly broken. Splintered at the core. It kills me.
He props his elbows on his knees, resting his head in his palms. Ollie licks a stripe along Callum’s cheek before patiently sitting beside him .
It touches my soul to see how much Ollie adores him.
Callum’s shoulders shake before he lets out a guttural cry that's so heartbreaking it makes me want to die.
“Cal,” I rush out, dropping to the floor and crawling into his lap. I quickly take his beautiful face between my palms.
“Callum, look at me, baby.”
His red-rimmed eyes find mine at the sound of my voice. My thumbs caress his wet cheeks as I press a kiss to his forehead.
“I can’t imagine how afraid you must feel,” I mutter, “because if I’m being honest, I’m scared out of my damn mind. I love you more than anything in this world, and all I want is for you to be healthy. But this isn’t the end of your life, Callum. You’re the strongest person I know. You’ve made it through so much, and you’re not going to let this defeat you. We’re going to live a long, beautiful life together, Callum Pierce. Because I refuse to let you give up on us, and I sure as hell won’t let you give up on yourself.”
Callum’s lower lip quivers as he wraps his arms around my waist and buries his head in my neck. I curl my arms around his shoulders, clinging to him as he peppers sweet kisses against my skin.
When he pulls back to look at me, his gaze is full of awe and wonder.
“What did I do to deserve you?” he breathes.
I think back to his childhood and how I was truly the only person he had to lean on. I imagine the little boy with a mop of black hair, grinning from ear to ear as he hops onto the school bus.
He felt so abandoned in the grandest house on the street. But he felt right at home on the dingy yellow bus—with me.
“You deserve to be loved, Callum,” I whisper. “Everybody does. ”
He mindlessly glides his fingers up and down my torso.
“I guess…” he trails off. “I guess I’m just so used to being alone. Ever since I was a kid, I’ve never felt deserving of love. Until recently, I had convinced myself that I was going to die alone. That I would never find the kind of love I feel with you. It’s not something that can be duplicated.”
The connection I have with Callum is once in a lifetime. I know because I tried to find it again. And no matter how many great guys I went out with, none of them held a flame to Callum.
“Well, guess what?” I ask.
“What?”
“I’m here now,” I smile softly. “And you don’t have to do this alone.”
Callum sits up straighter, cradling either side of my neck. His thumbs brush intimate swipes against my jaw.
“Promise me something, Birdie.”
Our breaths intermingle as I slowly nod.
“Promise me that this is what you want,” he mutters. “And if it’s not, I swear to never hold it against you. Because we both know that life is going to look a lot different for me now; it’s not going to be a walk on the beach.”
“Life never is, Callum,” I reply. “As a nurse, I see the harsh reality of what people go through on a daily basis. We all have our battles that we’re fighting, and for some reason, this is yours. And when the time comes for me to fight mine, I know that you’ll be right by my side.”
I reach up and run my fingers through his thick curls before continuing.
“There’s no doubt in my mind that I want to wake up every morning next to you,” I confess. “Because for eleven years, I woke up without you, and it was the most miserable years of my life. Nothing, and I mean nothing, could be worse than that. I was a shell of a human, and everyone who knew the version of me before you left could tell.”
Callum’s brows pinch together with pain as his eyes flick between mine.
“I hated myself for what I did to you,” he croaks. “I was so fucking sad, Birdie. I felt like I was just going through the motions. Nothing ever felt the same. I was completely void of feeling joy. Then, after so many years, I saw you standing in the middle of my grocery store like a damn angel. It’s impossible to describe the feeling, but it was like life was being breathed back into my lungs again.”
I’m on the verge of melting into a puddle in his arms. I never knew a statement could be so sad yet so sweet at the same time.
“I couldn't believe it,” I murmur, remembering the exact moment I laid eyes on him. “Don’t get me wrong, I was really fucking pissed at you. Especially since you looked so goddamn hot.”
We both chuckle at that, lightening the mood.
“Can I be honest about something?”
“Sure…” I say hesitantly.
“Call me a masochist, but it kind of turned me on how snappy you were with me at first. It was a side of you I had never seen before.”
I arch a brow, not expecting him to say that.
“Okay,” Callum sighs, “It was hot as fuck. Especially when you told me you hated me. I wanted to bend you over your car and make you remember how much you loved me.”
Oh shit.
I can’t deny the heat wave that rolls down my spine at the thought of him bending me over his car.
“Is that right?” I breathe. “Are you saying I should tell you I hate you more often? ”
He shrugs.
“I think a hate fuck is hot every once and while,” he grins sheepishly. “You just have to promise to tell me you love me afterward.”
I throw my head back and laugh.
“Since we’re making promises,” I catch my breath, “I need you to make me a promise, too.”
His smile fades as his blue eyes search mine.
“Anything,” he replies.
“Promise me that you’ll never give up on us. Promise me that you will never walk away again, Callum. No matter how hard life gets.”
My heart skips a beat when he tightens his arms around my waist, pulling me flush against him.
“I promise you, baby,” he vows, “I will never let you go again. The time I spent without you was the worst years of my existence. And Birdie, I swear on my last breath, I will make it my life’s mission from here forward to wake up every day and give you my best years.”
My best years.
I love the sound of that.
“I promise to do the same,” I breathe. “No matter what obstacles come our way, I vow to give you my best years, Callum Pierce.”
His eyes heat as they lower to my lips.
“Come here, Birdie Wren,” he says, reaching for my face and crushing his mouth to mine.
And then, we seal our promises with an unforgettable kiss.