Page 161 of Neap & Spring

Relief.

Pure, overwhelming, bone-deep relief.

I can breathe again. I can actually breathe.

“Vivienne,” I say, standing abruptly. “I have to tell Vivienne.”

Margo searches the empty restaurant before understanding crosses her face. “Callum. No. Look at that storm.”

As if on cue, the wind slams into the building hard enough to rattle every window. The rain is coming down sideways so hard it sounds like gravel hitting the glass.

“She needs to know.” I’m already moving toward the door.

“She will know tomorrow when this passes.”

“She’s in that cottage, Margo.” I grab my jacket from where I left it draped over the bar. “Your old cottage right on the water with the windows that don’t seal and the roof that’s half rotted and that tree that’s been leaning toward it for a hundred years!”

“Then call her.”

“She won’t answer my calls!” I’m pulling on the jacket now, checking my pockets for my keys. “She’s been avoiding me for three days, and I’ve been giving her space, but that storm is right on top of us, and she’s alone in that cottage, and I —”

I stop.

This isn’t just about the good news I need to share.

It’s that I can’t stand the thought of her being alone in that cottage when the storm hits. I can’t stand the thought of her being scared or in danger or needing help and me not being there.

Again.

We already lost five years. Five years I could have been with her. Loving her. Being there for her. And I know she needs space. I’ll give her all the space she needs to process what happened with Stellan and to figure out what she wants and needs to heal. And I’ll move heaven and earth to make sure she gets exactly that.

But I won’t let her face this storm alone.

Because I love her.

I’ve been in love with her since Paris, and I never really stopped. Not when she left me. Not when I convinced myself I was over it. Not even when I was with Sarah, pretending I’d moved on, trying to force myself to feel something that came remotely close.

It’s always been her.

It will always be her.

“I have to go,” I say.

“Callum, this is so dangerous!”

“I know.”

“The roads are going to flood!”

“I know.”

“You could get hurt!”

“I know! I don’t care.” I look at her, begging her to see the desperation I feel. “I have to make sure she’s okay.”

Margo stares at me for a long moment. Then she sighs, shaking her head. “You Reid men are all the same. Stubborn as hell and stupid in love.”

“Yeah, well. Dad raised us right.” I’m already at the door, my hand on the handle.