Page 104 of All of Me

She raises a brow, smirking as she leans in, her breath warm against my lips. “What makes you think I wouldn’t want that?”

Fuck.

I grab her, pulling her back into me, and just like that, I know we’re not leaving this kitchen anytime soon.

thirty-seven

WHEN YOU SAY NOTHING AT ALL - ALISON KRAUSS

CALLIE - JULY 25, 2014

For the first time in what feels like months, there are no tiny feet running down the hall, no giggles spilling out of the girls’ room, and no soft cries from Ruby stirring in her crib. It should feel like a relief, a chance to breathe, to focus. Instead, it’s unnerving, like something’s missing.

I run my hands down the soft fabric of my robe, glancing at the clock on the kitchen wall. It’s just past nine, and the house feels impossibly big and empty without the kids. Sara and Ruby are with my mom for the night, so I can’t even hear the soft hum of Ruby’s sound machine or Sara’s tiny snores. My fingers twitch toward my phone, the urge to check in with my mom almost overwhelming, but I force myself to stop.

“They’re fine,” I murmur to myself, trying to quiet the irrational part of my brain. “Mom raised me and Taylor, didn’t she?”

The words barely settle the unease in my chest, and I find myself pacing the living room, my eyes catching on all the little reminders of the day ahead. My bouquet sits in a vase on the coffee table, the burlap and lace wrapping its stem catching the glow of the dim lamp. The dress bag hangs on the back of the hallway door, its outline a silent promise of tomorrow. My stomach twists with a mix of nerves and excitement, and I’m not sure which one is winning.

“You’re going to wear a hole in the floor if you keep that up,” Owen’s voice cuts through my thoughts.

I glance up to find him leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and a soft smile tugging at his lips. He’s already in sweatpants and a faded t-shirt, his hair still damp from his shower. The familiar, steady sight of him makes my chest ache in the best way.

“I can’t help it,” I admit, stopping mid-pace. “It’s too quiet and my brain won’t stop overthinking everything. What if we forgot something? What if the centerpieces look ridiculous? What if the girls miss us too much and don’t sleep?”

Owen crosses the room in three easy strides, his hands finding my waist as he pulls me close. “Callie,” he says gently, tilting my chin up so I’m looking at him. “Everything is going to be perfect. And even if it’s not, it’ll still be the best day of my life because I’m marrying you.”

The sincerity in his eyes is enough to make my throat tighten, and I have to blink back the sting of tears. “How do you always know exactly what to say?”

“It’s one of my many talents,” he says with a smirk, leaning down to press a kiss to my forehead.

I let out a shaky laugh, resting my hands against his chest. “You’re not nervous at all, are you?”

“Not even a little,” he says, his tone soft but steady. “The only thing I’m thinking about is how lucky I am that tomorrow, you’re going to be my wife.”

The way he says it—so sure, so full of love—wraps around me like a warm blanket. I lean into him, my cheek resting against his chest as his arms tighten around me. For a moment, the quiet isn’t so unsettling. It’s comforting. It’s us.

“You know,” Owen says after a beat, his voice lighter now, “I’ve been keeping something from you.”

I pull back, my brow furrowing. “Oh?”

He nods, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “It’s a surprise, but I can’t keep it in anymore. I figured… what better time than the night before our wedding?”

The soft hum of the truck engine fills the silence as we turn onto a gravel road. If I didn’t know any better, I would think my husband-to-be is leading me to the middle of nowhere. The headlights bounce over the uneven surface, illuminating trees on either side of us. I glance over at Owen, my curiosity bubbling over for the tenth time since we left the house.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going yet?” I ask, tilting my head at him.

He smirks, his hands steady on the wheel. “Not yet. We’re almost there.”

I let out an exaggerated groan, crossing my arms. “You know I hate surprises.”

“You’ll love this one,” he says simply, his voice warm and sure.

The truck slows as we approach a turn, and the gravel crunches louder beneath the tires. I lean forward, trying to make sense of the dark shapes in the distance. It seems familiar, but I can’t quite place it until the truck comes to a stop and the headlights sweep over the barn.

Darling Ridge Farms

My breath catches in my throat as recognition washes over me. “Owen…” I whisper, my voice barely audible. Tears prick at the corners of my eyes as I stare at the barn, its weathered red paint glowing softly in the truck’s headlights. The dark shapes of the outbuildings and trees are silhouetted against the night sky, and the gravel road stretches into the shadows. My breath catches as I take it all in. “In all the times you’ve talked about this place I never expected it to be so… beautiful.”

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