Page 78 of Promise Me This

Callum opens the door before I’ve even knocked twice, like he’s been waiting there for this exact moment. For me.

No matter how many times I see him, I’ll never get tired of his face. Even as stressed as he clearly is, beneath the worried crease between his eyes and purple bags from sleeplessness, he is the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. The loops and swirls of his blond hair are especially chaotic today, and longer than usual, like he’s in desperate need of a cut. He’s let his facial hair grow out. There’s a pang of sadness in my heart that I won’t get to see his scarred chin one last time. I have to swallow back the lump that rises in my throat.

“Leo,” he says, and it’s like the past six weeks never happened. It’s the very first day, after a long time away. I have a chance to do it all over again. To tell him the truth from the beginning.

I uncross my arms, letting the journal fall away from my chest. His gaze drops to it, and the crease between his brows deepens. “What are yo—”

“I want you to have this,” I say, thrusting it toward him. If he doesn’t take it right now, my resolve will falter. When he hesitantly reaches for it, I let it go like it’s on fire.

“Your diary?”

“It’s not a diary. Not exactly, anyway.” I shift my weight from one foot to another, staring at the journal rather than at him. “It’s full of letters I’ve written to Poppy over the years, starting on the first anniversary of… I’m sorry.” I draw in air, but it doesn’t quite do what it’s supposed to. My lungs are now full, but I still feel like I’m drowning.

Callum sees me struggling, and he quickly wraps an arm around my back and urges me toward the door. “Come inside for a second.”

“I…can’t. I’m sorry, it’s just that—”

His gaze has traveled past me, to where Padraig is sitting in his cab, waiting. Realization dawns on his face. “Are you leaving?”

I bite down hard on my lower lip and nod, though it’s more of a tremor.

Panic flashes in his emerald eyes. “No. You’re not, Leo. You can’t leave. You can’t shut me out again.”

Sobs begin to bubble in my chest, and it takes everything in me to breathe normally. Or as close to normal as I can get. “I’ve done enough damage here. It’s time for me to go. I’ve got a ticket. Padraig’s going to take me to catch the train, and then I’ll be out of your hair for good.”

“Except I don’t want you out of my hair!” He sucks in an exasperated breath. “Don’t run. Please don’t run again. I’ll cover your plane ticket, whatever the cost. I don’t care. Just stay.”

The tears fall in hot streaks down my face. “Why would you want me to stay? All I do is hurt you.”

His mouth opens to speak before he reconsiders. He takes my hand and pulls me into the house, letting the door fall closed behind me so we are out of sight of his friend. When we’ve reached the living room, he sets the journal down carefully on the nearest side table and then turns to face me. “Look, Leo, I’m pretty sure all this time what we’ve really been doing is hurting ourselves.”

A sickly laugh-cough spurts out of me. “What are you talking about?”

“I was afraid everyone I loved would leave me, and so I put myself into positions where that was the only possible outcome. You were afraid no one would ever forgive you for losing our daughter, and so you never forgave yourself. But I forgive you, Leo.”

My knees give out beneath me, but he’s right there to catch me, loop his arms around my waist and pull me to him. There is no space between us. There is only our lungs and our hearts thrumming in tandem against one another.

“You forgive me?” I say, hesitant in the face of mercy.

“I do. I forgive you for not telling me about her. But Leo, you have never needed forgiving for losing her, because it wasn’t your fault. I don’t need to read that journal to know how much you loved her. To know you would’ve given anything to save her. I know you would’ve because I know you.” He scrapes a calloused thumb over my cheek, brushing away my tears. His lips are a breath away. “I know you, and I love you.”

My heart stills in my chest when he releases my face. His hands trail along my body as he kneels in front of me, his touch traveling down my neck and across my shoulders, over my arms and steadying at my waist. When his knees hit the floor, he looks up at me with tears in his eyes, along with a question.

“I love you, too, Callum. It’s one of the few things I’ve ever been sure of.”

It’s the answer he was looking for. Instead of responding, he tucks his thumbs under the hem of my sweater and lifts them up, exposing my abdomen.

“What are you doi—”

He interrupts my question with a kiss, placed against the angry red lightning strike that sits just below my navel. “Our girl was a fighter,” he whispers, his lips brushing against another stretch mark. There are only a handful. I wasn’t done growing when I lost her. “And so are you.”

I can’t hold myself up anymore. I drop to my knees in front of him and find his gaze. My fingers comb through the hair at his temples before locking together against the nape of his neck. “I’m so sorry.”

“So am I.” He smiles ruefully, cups my jaw, and tilts my lips toward his. “I should’ve gotten on a plane and come for you all those years ago.”

I shake my head gently. “I wasn’t ready for you then.”

“But you are now?”

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