I stare at him. "No way."
"I went home last night and told him everything." Hishands settle on my hips, anchoring us both. "He said if I wouldn't go alone, he'd go too."
"No," I manage.
"He said Chicago has wood. Chicago has workshops." Cal's grin softens into tenderness. "He said Mom doesn't need a zip code. He said she'd haunt him properly if he let me lose you over a workbench."
The crying that comes out of me is full-body, ugly, gasping crying, the kind that makes your whole face crumple and your shoulders heave and you can't breathe between the sobs.
I press my face into him, and weep for his father. For that gentle man, who has every reason to hold onto his son and his home and his memories. And he's willing to walk away from all of it. For Callahan. For me.
My own father wasn't able to do that for me when I was a child. He chose himself, chose easy, chose gone. But Will would choose us. Will would follow.
"I love him," I sob into his shirt. "I love your dad so much."
"He loves you, too. You made him happy, baby. You made us both happy."
He swallows hard, his brows coming together as he searches his words.
"Since you came along, he's been more alive than I've seen him in years. I can't thank you enough for that."
I cry harder, which I hadn't thought was physically possible. Happy tears, all of them, but my eyes burn and Callahan's shirt is ruined beyond all redemption.
"Callahan..."
"Yeah, baby?"
"I love you."
"I hope you always will."
"I love you very much and I am going to say it constantly now." I pull back just enough to see his face through blurry eyes. "Multiple times a day. You'll get sick of it."
"I will not get sick of it."
"You say that now." I wipe my face with the back of my hand, probably smearing everything everywhere. "Give it a week. I'm relentless."
He laughs and kisses me again, the kind of kiss that has time in it. The kind that isn't rushing toward anything because it doesn't have to. We have time now. The countdown has stopped.
"Safe to say you're shit at keeping promises, Holt."
We both startle and break apart to find Rome and Erin standing in my living room, watching us with vastly different expressions.
Oh. Right. They're here.
Rome is frowning, looking like someone has offended him deeply by being happy in his presence. Erin is beaming at me with so much love and joy that I can feel it from across the room.
Callahan looks at me with surprise, and I laugh. "I forgot they were here."
He scoffs and shakes his head, one hand still warm on my hip. "Of course I had to have your fucking brother as a witness to all this."
"Hey, be happy you didn't lose your head and fuck me before I remembered they were here."
He tries to hold it back, but he can't. The laugh breaks out of him, and then I'm laughing too, both of us cracking up in my kitchen like idiots. It's probably therelief, the adrenaline of the past two days finally slipping, but we're laughing together at the absurd situation and I can't stop.
"You are both children and deserve each other," Rome mutters.
Erin is holding onto his arm, and if I didn't know better, I'd say she's caressing his forearms. Which. Yuck.
