Page 94 of Endgame

“Of course. I can do that.”

I give him the time he needs to gather his thoughts. I can’t imagine how hard it must be to share those times in his life. Stirring up old wounds can be painful, but I’ve seen the healing in Callaway, and I can only hope that talking about it will help him rather than send him backward.

He slides the bowl of popcorn off his lap and places it in the corner of the couch, before turning towards me and running a heavy hand through his thick hair.

“I won’t sugar coat it. It sucked. There are things I would never share with anyone, not out of lack of trust, but because it’s disturbing. I was nine when I was placed into the system. At nine years old, I was about to lose my mother, and all I remember feeling was relief. Relief, Dakota. Like, how fucking corrupt is that? It felt like finally breathing again. However, my immaturity showed in how optimistic I was about finding a family to love me. That optimism died after my first family placement.”

I feel my heart drop from my chest. My hand reaches to cover Cal’s as I hold him tight.

“I can still remember the smell. Mr. Spinks favored Natty Ice and beating me with the closest thing he could find. Most of the time, I was lucky enough to have the remote chucked at my face from where he was seated at the recliner, instead of the frequent broomstick across the side of my head or knocking my legs out from under me. I was already used to fending for myself. My mother may have been a junkie, but she never laid a hand on me. I don’t know which evil is worse for a child; the one where I was beaten to a pulp seemed to take the lead. The social worker eventually reported back that my mother had fled town with no leads to her whereabouts. I knew I was screwed, and this was my new reality.”

Tears seep from my eyes, falling onto the thin material of his shirt.

I can’t imagine how scared Callaway must have felt.

It makes me sick to think about how many terrible humans have gotten away with treating children that way.

“Callaway. I…I can’t imagine.” Tears drain every emotion from my heart. “You didn’t deserve that. People are cruel, and it makes me hurt to think of the pain they caused you...”

I want to hold him and never let go.

His eyes are closed—almost like he’s reliving it.

I almost tell him not to continue. I can’t bear to feel even for a fraction of a moment what he spent years living.

However, he continues, “That went on for five years, five years of different families every six months. My life had never felt so unstable. All I wanted was to be loved. It’s not much to ask of a child. But it seemed impossible at the time—until Delilah and Scott. My parents.”

I can imagine young Callaway the moment he found his family.

The family that chose him.

I can picture him succumbing to the love he’d dreamed of from a mother and father—to have it finally. My heart aches for the pain he went through but also rejoices in the outcome of it all. He’s now a part of the most loving and kindest family, a family I know is better now because he’s in it.

That’s the same way I feel now having him in my life.

I rub my thumb gently over his strong knuckles before whispering to him quietly, “I can’t help but look at you and see all the good things you represent. The families that treated you like you were nothing are the ones suffering from the loss of you today. Your heart was kept safe during those times to be ready for the love on the other side. I’m so thankful to be on the receiving end of that love, Callaway.”

He looks slightly choked up over my words. This moment between us is one that represents vulnerability and transparency. We’ve shown each other our scars and have invited the other to fill the space left to love.

There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.

He closes his eyes, soaking in my sentiment, as he pulls me close to kiss my forehead sweetly. “Thank you.”

Those words mean everything in the same way mine did to him. It means we’re no longer alone and have someone who will proudly be in our corner fighting alongside us.

I almost think the conversation is put to rest as we lay together silently, the sound of the movie still playing in the background, until Callaway speaks up, “I’d like to adopt someday.”

My sweet and beautiful man.

He’s got the biggest heart.

When I think he couldn’t be any more perfect he proceeds to show me what kind of father he would be without even trying.

“I think you’d be the perfect father to any child in need. You should do that when the time is right.”

He’s looking at me like he can’t see anything outside of me. It sears into my heart, fighting to burst from my adoration for him.

How did I get so lucky?

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