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He traced a finger along the edge of the towel with a feather-light touch to the exposed skin. A mere graze across the top of my breast sent immediate shockwaves through my entire body. A tiny groan escaped him before moving past me and closing the bathroom door, leaving me conflicted in the hallway.
In my room, I unraveled the towel, exchanging it for a tank top and shorts before piling my hair into a messy bun and spritzing a little of the lavender-fragranced perfume I’d bought for the moments I needed the reminder of my mother’s essence.
I waited for the familiar sound of the pipes relieving as the water turned off. The old house had a lot of little quirks I’d reacquainted myself with over the past weeks. Yet, with each gentle reminder, I felt like I was coming to understand more about the life once lived in this house.
Callum reappeared in the doorway of my bedroom. I could see in the mirror’s reflection that he was taking me in again with his eyes, and I couldn’t help but return the fascination.
The towel he wore was hitched dangerously low on his waist, his bronzed skin on full display for appreciation. I could see that he’d taken care of himself over the years. Tearing my eyes away took more willpower than it should have.
“Ah, I’ve got some dry clothes out in the car,” he offered. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”
Gathering my wayward thoughts of Callum dressed in only a towel and the seductiveness of his gaze, I righted myself and plodded down the stairs to the living room. He had set the fire, which had already filled the room with a radiant warmth that welcomed me like an embrace.
As I stood in the center of the living room, my eyes darted from the chair to the couch, trying to decide where to sit. The chair was passive and safe, and the couch was comfortable but invitational for Callum to sit beside me.
Was his presence in the intimate space something I could face when there was so much pain and hurt left to resolve between us?
Instead of taking either, I removed two couch cushions and placed them in front of the fire, forcing the hand of fate to have us sitting together but outside of reach.
The door opened, and my eyes flew to the doorway where I expected Callum to enter. The glow from the fire touched the room to set a romantic air, the figure of Callum filling the entrance, adding to the moment. My breath hitched when he paused a moment, barefoot in only jeans with a hole in the knee fraying at the edges. The low light cast shadows across his face, adding to the mystery of the man hidden behind it. The man time had stolen me from knowing.
His eyes cast across my body, much like I had completed his.
“May I?” Callum pointed to the cushion placed in front of the one I was already sitting on.
Shyly, I nodded, watching while he made himself comfortable. As the mood in the room shifted, he exhaled a short but sharp breath.
“Seems like I owe you a lot of apologies, Alina, and truth be told, I’m not sure where to start or if the words will ever be enough to show you the magnitude of remorse I feel.”
“I don’t need any apologies, Callum. I think I get why you did what you did.” I paused, releasing a ragged breath to find the right words to explain. “You’ve always tried to protect me, and I can see that now. From that time you walked me home ’cause they wouldn’t let me on the bus to pushing me away when I was sixteen.” I reached for his hand to reassure him I was no longer harboring resentment about his decision from back then. I took it in both of mine and marveled for a moment at its strength and size. His hands were strong and capable of building a house and breaking a heart.
“I came back for you.” His hands fell away from mine, his voice soft and exposing the empathy of his words. “I was too late because you’d already gone. I thought maybe you’d forgive me and let me leave with you, Alina. I wanted…” His voice wavered to silence. Then, with a gentle shake of his head, his eyes found mine, searching with an edge of sadness. “It doesn’t matter,” he finished.
My breath caught in my throat, choking the words down as if the English language was only going to be an injustice to how Callum’s words made me feel.
He’d come back for me.
I had no idea. All this time, we’d forced ourselves into living our lives separately with a warped sense of what our history held when it could’ve easily been something different, somethingmore.
“Itdoesmatter,” I forced the words out, and with them fell the first tear. “It matters so much more now than it ever did before.”
I watched as his Adam’s apple slid up and down his throat. The silence stretched on between us. The only sound filling the room was the crackle and hiss of the fire and the explosion of thunder in the distance.
“I loved you, Alina. It almost killed me to know the guilt was mine and that I’d hurt you so badly. I was stupid and scared. I didn’t know how else to keep you safe.” His hand entwined mine, trapping them both in his single one before lifting them to his lips. With a gentle caress, he kissed each palm. “I had no idea how else to keep the promise, darlin’, and I’m so sorry.”
“What promise did you have to keep?” I asked him with a furrowed brow, lost in the misunderstanding of what Callum was saying.
I was confused. No matter how much I tried to remember, I couldn’t recall any promises made between Callum and me.
“To your mother, Alina. The promise I made to your mum.”
A promise? What promise?
ChapterTwenty-Three
Alina
“What are you talking about? What promise did you make to her, Callum?” Panic filled my voice as fear gripped me, and I pulled my hands back from his.
