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“I’m fine.”
I’m not fine. I feel like I’m caught in the middle of a tornado. So many realizations at once. My whole body is trembling, and I fight to get it together. I could have lost him. I was willing to put myself in the way to save him. Why? Why would I do that?
BecauseI love him.
“You’re not fine.” Callisto wraps his arms around me and pulls me against his chest.
I know I’m okay. I know I’ve always felt okay when I’m with him. What I want to know iswhy.
I feel like I’m dancing on the edge of sanity. It would be so easy to forget the world and run right back into his arms. But I can’t. I can’t continue to live in my naïve little bubble, pretending I’m some princess in some fairy tale, and Callisto is my knight in shining armor. This isn’t a fairy tale. There’s a dark reality here that we’ve both been running from for months, and I don’t want to run anymore.
He takes my face in his hands, gently, as if I’m a fragile heirloom. His thumbs trace tiny circles around my cheekbones, and he takes another step closer, our bodies just inches apart now. “Angel, he’s gone. I’ve got you. I’ll keep you safe. Do you trust me?”
Trust.Almost as delicate a word aslove. Lately they seem to go hand in hand. I trust Callisto. I trust him with my body. I trust him with my safety. I trust him to be there at 6:25 for a 6:30 date and to give me the first cup of coffee every morning when we wake up after a night together. I trust that he’s responsible and diligent. And that he will always leave me breathless and satisfied. But the stakes are higher now. Now, I need to trust him with my heart.
“Makenna?”
“I don’t even know you.” The words tumble from my mouth like pieces of shattered glass. It’s too late to pick them up and put them back together. There’s a pained expression in his eyes that’s almost familiar.
“You know me better than anyone ever has.”
“Do I?”
I know he played college baseball at LSU and has a degree in engineering. I know his favorite color is blue, and he will only eat homemade pizza, no carry out. But all those are surface details. Cosmetic.
He narrows his eyes and takes his hands from my face, shoving them deep into his pockets.
“You dance around every question I’ve ever asked you. But it’s time I know the truth. No more secrets.”
He doesn’t speak. Then again, I didn’t expect him to.
“Why was Eva trying to scare me away from you? Why did you really go to Miami? What happened to you the night you were cut? The night I saw you in Carlos’s office? Why did Judge Landry tell me to be careful with you? Why do you watch over me as if something bad is going to happen? What was that man so afraid of just now?”
My pulse is racing, and I am terrified. Terrified because it feels as if my heart is made of thread and bit by bit, with every word I speak, it’s going to unravel. I take a step toward him, reaching forward and untucking his shirt. I lift the hem to reveal his scar. The one I saw the first time we were together. Right where Reid’s would have been—if he had lived to have one. It’s always been there, etched in my memory. Every time I see it, every time I run my fingers over the raised flesh, I thank God for second chances.
“Where did you get this?” I say as my fingertips graze his skin.
“The answers to those questions don’t change who I am, Makenna. They don’t change the man I am when I’m with you. You do know me. You always have.” He says it so simply, as if everything isn’t riding on this one answer.
“Can’t you see it? Everything’s changed, Callisto.” My voice trembles.
I’m in love with you.
“No, angel. All I see is you. And me. And this beautiful fucking thing we have. Can’t we just leave it alone? Let it be beautiful?”
In time, you realize what you once thought was broken, is actually something beautiful.I hear Carlos’s words in the back of my mind.
I used to think we would always be broken, Callisto and me. Now I realize how beautiful we could be.
If he would just open the door and let me in.
“I need answers, Cal.” I need this. My heart needs this. My soul needs this.
“You don’t want answers, Makenna.”
“Why? How bad can they be? Why won’t you just fucking talk to me like a normal person?” I don’t mean to raise my voice, but I’m desperate. All his talk about trust, and he doesn’t even trust me enough to let me in. Why won’t he let me in?
“Because there are some things you can’tunknow. You can try to block it out. You can try to pretend. But it’s always there. Like a fucking disease with no cure. Why would you think I want to do that to you?”
