Chapter 16
The cold air outside the hospital hit my skin like a warning. Too sharp, too real. I pulled the thin jacket tighter around my shoulders as Thalia guided the wheelchair toward her car.
“Careful,” she murmured, as if I were made of glass.
I felt like I was.
Despite the growing distance between us over the last couple of weeks, I could feel the presence of Callum looming behind me. I could feel his eyes penetrating the back of my head, and I doubted he was even blinking. Somehow, his possessiveness had come back in full force.
Too late, idiot.
Thalia opened the passenger door and helped me inside, buckling the seatbelt because my hands were shaking too much.
“I could do it,” I whispered.
“I know,” she said softly, brushing my hair back. “But you don’t have to.”
Callum hovered a few feet away, jaw clenched, eyes locked on me like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to speak.
Thalia rounded the car and glared at him over the roof. “Follow us if you want,” she said. “But don’t talk. Don’t push. Don’t make this harder for her.”
He nodded stiffly, but his eyes stayed on me, flooding with remorse so heavy I almost wanted to look away.
Almost.
Thalia got in and started the engine. As she pulled out of the hospital lot, Callum’s car slid in behind us, always within sight in the rearview mirror.
My heart twisted painfully.
He was there. But he hadn’t been there when it mattered.
The drive home was silent except for my shallow breathing and the hum of the road beneath the tires. Every streetlight looked a little too bright. Every passing shadow felt too close.
When we reached the driveway, Thalia helped me out, holding my elbow like I might collapse at any moment. Maybe I would.
Callum stepped out of his car, taking two steps toward us before forcing himself to stop. His restraint, something that would have impressed me once, felt like a bruise now.
“Gin,” he said quietly. “Please. Let me help.”
I didn’t answer.
Thalia did. “You’ve helped enough.”
I winced at her words, but Callum took them like he expected them. Like he deserved them.
Inside the house, everything felt wrong. Too quiet. Too familiar. Like stepping into a life I wasn’t sure belonged to me anymore.
Thalia led me to the bedroom. “Let’s get you changed first,” she said.
I sat on the edge of the bed while she pulled open drawers and started gathering clothes, shoving them into a suitcase. Comfortable ones. Soft ones. Ones she knew I would reach for if I could think clearly.
Callum appeared in the doorway, one hand braced on the frame.
“Thalia, stop,” he said, voice tight. “This is our house. She needs to stay here. With me.”
Thalia turned so fast it startled him. “She needed you hours ago,” she snapped. “She needed you for weeks.”
He flinched.
My chest tightened painfully. “Callum… please.”
He looked at me then, really looked. The fear in his eyes almost undid me.
“You’re leaving?” he whispered. “You’re actually leaving?”
“I need space,” I said, forcing the words out. “I need… safety. I need quiet. I need -&rdquo My voice cracked. “I need help.”
“You have me,” he said instantly, stepping forward. “I can fix this. I can be here. I can—”
Thalia stepped between us. “No. She’s going to your parents’ house.”
“She should be at home with me,” he said, the words rough, unpolished.
Thalia met his gaze. “And you should have been a good husband, and yet look at reality. Just because you want her here doesn’t mean you’re ready to actually step up and put her first.”
He had no response.
I swallowed hard, gazing at the half-packed bag Thalia had laid on the bed. The fabric blurred as tears rose again.
“I don’t feel safe here with you,” I said quietly.
The silence that followed was devastating.
Callum froze, as if those words had physically struck him. His shoulders sagged under the weight of them. His breath stuttered.
And I hated that I’d hurt him.
But he had hurt me first.
He dragged a hand through his hair. “Ginny… please don’t say that.”
I looked away.
Thalia helped me to my feet. “Come on. Let’s get the rest.”
Callum tried again. “At least let me carry the bag.”
I shook my head.
He stumbled back a step, like that small rejection had taken the ground out from under him.
We finished packing quickly. Too quickly. A few outfits, toiletries, my medications. Nothing sentimental. Nothing that reminded me of him.
As we walked back toward the door, he followed us, close enough that I could feel his breath hitching but far enough that he didn’t reach for me.
“Gin,” he said, voice rough, “don’t go.”
My lashes stung. “I have to.”
We stepped outside.
My parents-in-law’s car was already pulling up the driveway. My mother-in-law got out before it fully stopped, rushing toward me with open arms.
“Oh, sweetheart,” she cried, hugging me gently. “Let’s get you home. Let’s get you resting.”
Home.
The word hurt.
Callum’s father came around the car, face stormy, gaze flicking between me and his son. “Get her in the car,” he said to Thalia. “We’ll take it from here.”
Thalia nodded, squeezing my hand. “I’ll follow behind you.”
Callum looked frantic now, shifting from one foot to the other like he didn’t know where to stand. “Can I - can I at least drive her? Or follow? Or—”
“I can’t stop you from following us, but I won’t let you continue to hurt her,” his father said firmly. “You’ve done enough.”
Callum swallowed, looking like he might be sick.
I settled into the back seat, and my mother-in-law tucked a blanket around my legs. She brushed my hair away from my face and cupped my cheek.
“You’re safe now,” she whispered. “You’re with us.”
Safe.
The word should have felt comforting.
Instead, all I felt was hollow.
As we pulled out, I saw Callum standing in the driveway, motionless, devastated, completely alone.
And even though he deserved to feel the consequences of what he’d done…
Watching him break hurt more than I expected.
· · ─ ·?· ─ · ·
His parents settled me gently into the guest room, a soft, warm space with pale curtains and lavender sheets.
His mother brought me tea, a heating pad, and one of her soft knit blankets.
His father carried in a basket of small comforts he and his wife had gathered: a puzzle book, a handmade candle, chamomile, fuzzy socks, an extra phone charger.
They were trying. They were trying so hard to make me feel secure, wanted, protected.
Everything Callum should have done.
Thalia sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing my arm slowly. “We’ve got you,” she murmured. “You’re not alone.”
But even surrounded by comfort, even wrapped in warmth and safety…
I felt the deepest kind of cold.
Because the person who should’ve protected me most, the person I trusted with everything, had let someone else’s lie matter more than my truth.
And I didn’t know how to forgive that.
A knock sounded at the front door, interrupting my thoughts.
His parents exchanged a glance. His mother rose first, smoothing the blanket at my shoulder. “Rest,” she said gently. “Don’t worry about anything.”
His father nodded in agreement. “We’ll take care of it. The house will stay pest-free.”
They moved toward the hallway, quiet and deliberate, leaving the room wrapped in stillness behind them.