Chapter 40
forty
CALLAN
I’m a moron. I’ve spent my whole damn life living for the rush, chasing every thrill without a second thought. Not once did I stop to think the one thing that matters more than all of it is her.
This incredible woman who’s willing to tear apart her world just to be with me. I can’t keep being so…impulsive. Not when she’s counting on me. Not when I’m the one who’s promised to show up, to protect her, to make sure she has a future.
I never should’ve been on the road that day.
I didn’t think about how much she needs me. How much I need her.
And now? I hate myself for it. For the selfishness. For the fact that she’s sitting here, worried about whether I’ll make it home in one piece. She deserves better than a man who makes her wonder if he’s going to walk out that door and never come back. She deserves better than me.
“I’ll do better. I can change.”
She leans into my touch, her warmth the salvation I don’t deserve. “I’m not asking you to do that,” she says softly. “I’m just asking you to be safer. You wouldn’t be you if you weren’t somewhat impulsive and a little insane.” She smirks, but I can see the concern lingering behind it.
I don’t have any witty comebacks for her right now. This is too real. The thought of losing her because of my own damn ego is unbearable. Humor’s not going to fix this, not this time.
Her smirk fades the moment my thumb brushes over her cheek. “I mean it. I’ll do better. I can’t lose you. Especially not because I couldn’t slow down long enough to see what I have right in front of me.”
Her eyes soften, but there’s a shadow of fear lingering in the depths of her gaze. I put that there.
Her hand settles over the steady thud of my heart. “I’m not going anywhere.”
I nod, my throat tight, the lump there threatening to choke me. “You have my word. No more taking stupid risks just to feel alive. You make me feel alive. Just you, Sunshine.”
For a long moment, she studies me, trying to figure out if I mean it. And then, slowly, she nods, the faintest smile curving the corners of her lips. “Good. Because you and me? We’ve got a lot of life to live together. And I’m not letting you off the hook that easily.”
I exhale a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “I’m not going anywhere, either,” I whisper into her hair. “Not now, not ever.”
They’re not just words. They’re a promise I intend to keep, no matter what it takes. For her, for us, for the future I almost threw away without a second thought. It’s not just about slowing down anymore. It’s about fully understanding what’s at stake. And I won’t make that mistake again.
I’m sitting with Mum, letting Bree get some much-needed sleep in an actual bed instead of on the couch. It’s strange, not having Bree hovering nearby. She’s been running herself ragged. I practically had to beg her to take a break. It’s like she doesn’t know how to stop.
Mum sits across from me, her hands folded neatly in her lap, her usual lively chatter replaced by a heavy silence. It’s not like her. Normally, she’s full of stories, questions, or a gentle scolding. Today, there’s none of that. Just this quiet, palpable tension hanging between us.
I’ve been home for a few days now, and every day, without fail, Mum shows up with the same determined smile. But I know her too well. There’s a tightness around her eyes, a stiffness in her movements. All little cracks in the facade she doesn’t think I notice.
I shift in my seat, the ache in my ribs a sharp reminder that I’m still a long way from my normal self. The pain is manageable, but the awkwardness in the air isn’t.
I finally catch her gaze. “You okay?”
“Aye, I am now.” Her voice is calm, but the look she gives me could peel paint off a wall. “Do you know how hard it is not to slap you upside the head? It’s like trying to hold back a sneeze in a room full of pepper. Near bloody impossible.”
I wince, scratching the back of my neck. “That bad, huh?”
“Worse,” she says, leaning forward. “You’re lucky I’ve got some self-control or you’d be nursing another concussion on top of everything else.”
“You are not allowed to die before me, child,” she continues, her voice cutting through the air like a whip. “I didn’t go through childbirth for you to turn around and waste it on some reckless nonsense.”
I snort, shaking my head. “Nice to know it’s about your hard work.”
“Damn right it is,” she shoots back, but her smile softens enough to show the affection hiding beneath the scolding. “Now stop being an idiot and stay alive, aye? And get that girl to marry you. I like her more than I like you right now.”
“Mum!”
She waves her hand dismissively. “I’m serious.”
I know she is.
“I hear you, but I’m not sure Bree would have me at the moment. I’ve been a proper arsehole.”
“You’ve always had a good heart, Callan. Sometimes it just takes the right person to help you see it. I see the way you look at her. It’s the same way your father used to look at me.”
The mention of Dad catches me off guard. We don’t talk about him much. “Yeah?”
She nods, a wistful smile gracing her lips. “Aye. Like you’ve found your home. Your heart.”
Well, damn. What do you even say to that? Thanks for the soul-crushing sentiment, Mum? Or maybe, excuse me while I go rethink my entire life?
I swallow hard. “I have,” I admit. “Don’t worry. I’m making it right.”
She reaches across the coffee table and pats my hand. “That’s the MacKenzie curse, love. You’re all stubborn fools until you find the right person to knock some sense into you.”
I can’t help but chuckle, even though it makes me hurt. “Is that what happened with you and Dad?”
Her eyes twinkle with affection, and for a second, I see the spark of the woman she used to be. “Oh, aye. Your father was the biggest fool of them all. Took me years to straighten him out.”
“And here I thought it was love at first sight,” I tease.
“Love, yes. Sense, though? That took a wee bit longer.”
I should talk to her about Dad more often. He died when Knox, Lucy, and I were so young. Most of what I know about him is secondhand. But sitting here, watching the way her face lights up when she talks about him, I’m catching a glimpse of the man I never got to know.
“Did he ever get it together?”
“Oh, eventually. He made plenty of mistakes, but he loved us fiercely. That man would have moved mountains for his family.”
There’s a pause, but it’s not uncomfortable. Finally, she speaks again, her voice quieter.
“You’re like him in that way, you know.”
I shift, wincing as the pain lances through me. “Aye, well, let’s hope I make fewer mistakes along the way.”
Her hand lands on mine. “It’s what you do after that counts. And you, my boy, are doing just fine.”
The knot of guilt that’s been tied tight falls away a little, the weight lifting just enough to breathe easier. “Thanks, Mum.”
Her lips curl into a knowing smile, the kind she’s perfected over the years. “Now, stop feeling sorry for yourself and focus on getting better. You’ll be back to your foolhardy self in no time.”
I chuckle, the sound strained but genuine. “Wouldn’t want to disappoint.”
“Good lad.” She squeezes my hand and rises, smoothing her skirt as she does.
The room goes quiet again, but it’s…nice. For the first time in days, I don’t feel like I’m one wrong move away from an aggressive lecture. Progress.