“But also…” He looks up at me. “They were my family. I thought they were supposed to be there for me. And how easy was it for them to cut me out? My father told me to leave and never come back. Mackenzie looked at me like I was garbage. Not one of them even tried to understand that I was just trying to help. That I was drowning under all that pressure and made a mistake.”
“I'm sorry.” And I mean it. “I didn't know the whole story.”
“Of course you didn't. Because my sister would poison you with her side first.”
We sit in silence for a moment. This is not the selfish asshole who destroyed his family and walked away without looking back.
This is someone who made a mistake. A big one, yes. But someone who's been paying for it ever since.
“What about you?” Callum asks suddenly, his eyes finding mine.
“What about me?”
“Didn't you always want to be an artist? Sketching, drawing, all that?”
I blink, surprised. “How did you know?”
“I remember coming to one of your art shows. Mackenzie dragged me. But you were good. Really good. Not that I know shit about art, but for what it's worth, I loved it. You had this sketch of a half-collapsed greenhouse, glass shattered, vines crawling in through the roof… it was strange and beautiful. I couldn’t stop staring at it.”
Warmth creeps up my spine. “You remember that?”
“Yeah. So you're still drawing?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because it's not realistic. At least that's what my dad says. You can't make a living as an artist. You need a real career. Something stable.”
“And what do you do now?”
“Marketing for a tech company. Everything a responsible adult is supposed to want.”
“Do you hate it?”
The question catches me off guard. “I... I don't know. I guess I just do it. It's fine.”
“Fine.” He repeats the word like it's poison. “That's a shit way to live, darlin’.”
“Says the man who ran from his legacy.”
“Exactly. Says the man who knows what it's like to live for someone else's expectations until you can't breathe anymore. Life's too short to do shit that's just 'fine.'”
The words tug at my soul. Because he's right. I've spent so long being what everyone else needs that I don't even know what I want anymore.
Except I do know.
I want to create. I want to draw. I want to feel alive instead of just going through the motions.
I want…
No. I can't finish that thought.
“Why don't I run you another bath? Not one that I'll interrupt this time.”
Despite everything, I almost smile. “That sounds good.”
“Stay here. I'll get it ready.”
