“Because he wanted to be here,” I interrupt, refusing to allow her to carry the burden of Felix’s choices.
I love him, and I’m grateful for every day that he’s still around, but I’m also furious with him for choosing this path. If he does fade from existence, no matter what he says, I’ll still blame myself. I’m his light nephilim. It’s my duty to help him cross over. I failed him.
He’s not gone yet,I remind myself, and with that thought, I decide that if I can’t convince the stubborn idiot to move on, then I have to do everything in my power to save him.
“Callie, please look at me,” I request, the blanket falling around my waist as I grip her shoulders.
Shaking, she does what I ask, her hands once again braced on my chest. My hands move from her shoulders to her face, using my thumbs to wipe away her tears.
“I don’t hate you, and saving someone’s life isn’t wrong, okay?” I assure her, and when she opens her mouth to argue, I put a silencing finger against her lips. She’s so surprised her mouth snaps shut. “Nod your head if you understand.”
She blinks at me, then slowly nods her head.
“Does Felix know about Andrew?” I query, trying to put a plan together while also assessing damage control.
She nods again, an apology shining from her watery eyes.
“I’ll talk to him,” I murmur distractedly, then sigh. “This is what we’re going to do. Felix still exists, and until that changes, we don’t stop looking for a body for him. Andrew wasn’t the only option, just the convenient one, as abhorrent as that sounds.”
Her brows furrow, and her hands begin to fist in my shirt, but she remains silent since my finger is still pressed against her lips.
“We can see if they need volunteers in urgent care,” I muse, hatching the most uncomfortable plan ever. “You can help those that won’t tip anyone off that you’re some type of miracle healer, and if someone dies suddenly, that’s not on you. Felix might end up some middle-aged guy with a receding hairline, but he’ll be alive. As Donovan put it, ‘beggars can’t be choosers.’”
Callie’s eyes are dry, and she looks more collected. With a raised brow, she mumbles around my finger, “Can I talk now?”
“Yes,” I answer, swallowing my smile and dropping my hands to her waist.
“Just for the record, that only works once,” she comments with a squinty look, then she runs a hand through her hair. The scent of orchids and pomegranates wafts through the cold air.
I push away the suggestive comments I could make to the contrary, burying that along with my opportunity to confess my feelings for her today. When I tell her I love her, I don’t want it to be in the same conversation where we just discussed body snatching.This is about romance, not cowardice,I think, and only halfway convince myself.
“...our plan is to hope a body will just drop into our laps? Should we try a bigger hospital?” Callie asks, unaware of the more questionable places my thoughts traveled to.
Looking away to clear my head, I respond, “No, we should stay where we are. It’d be difficult to explain us choosing to drive an hour away to volunteer at a hospital when we have a local one we’re already at that desperately needs every person they can get.”
“So we’re at ‘hope for the best?’” she says with a sigh.
“Don’t knock hope,” I tease, shifting around to try and get into my pocket.
“What are you doing?” Callie inquires, moving to give me better access.
Pulling the bracelet’s box from my pocket, I hand it over to her to open, ignoring the fact that I can feel my heartbeat pulse throughout my entire body. “This is the original reason I came over. To give you this. It’s a small reminder that tomorrow promises new possibilities, so don’t give up hope.”
Perched on my thigh, her legs dangling over my opposite knee, she takes off her gloves so she can run her fingers along the velvet case. Opening the blue box, she gasps over the gift inside. “Kaleb, it’s beautiful.”
“It means, ‘this too shall pass,’” I explain, taking the gold bracelet from the box and clasping it around her delicate wrist. I exhale a quiet breath. “Callie, you are… amazing. Strong and kind. You’ve been through so much that… I want you to look at this and know that whatever comes your way, you have it in you to weather that storm. So don’t give up hope, okay?”
“Okay. I won’t give up,” she agrees with a beautifully sweet smile. “Thank you. Not just for the wonderful gift—though I do love it—but for being here. For having enough hope for both of us.”
“Anytime you need me, I’ll always be there for you,” I promise, my voice gruffer than I’d prefer. Clearing my throat, I switch gears and suggest, “How about helping me stay on your grandmother’s good side by eating some of the sandwiches she made? I did say I’d do my best to get you to eat something.”
Callie wrinkles her nose and pokes at the finger sandwiches. The bread seems slightly stale, the cold doing it zero favors. There’s also no more steam coming from the teapot.
“How about I do you one better and make you my nan’s favorite by going downstairs to eat something hot and conversing like a semi-normal person?” she offers instead with a smirk. “Care to join us for Christmas dinner?”
The sun is starting to set behind the trees, signaling I should probably get home soon. My stomach is also still full from the Christmas dinner I ate with my family two hours ago, but this is an opportunity to spend more time with Callie away from the others. A chance for her to see me as myself.
“Yeah, I’d like that,” I reply, stabilizing her as she gets to her feet. “I’ll text my mom, let her know I’ll be staying later.”
