Page 82 of All of Me

He nods slowly, his expression thoughtful. “Okay, but what about the ring? Someone’s bound to notice.”

I take a deep breath, already anticipating his reaction. “I was thinking... maybe I could take it off, just for tonight.”

His jaw tightens immediately and his posture shifts. “Take it off?” he repeats.

“Only until tomorrow,” I say quickly, reaching for his hand. “It’s not because I don’t want to wear it. I love this ring, Owen. I love what it means. But if I wear it, Shelly or Dad will notice, and I don’t want to spend the next twenty-four hours dodging questions. It’s just... easier this way.”

He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “Callie, I get why you want to wait, but taking off the ring?” He shakes his head, his voice measured. “That doesn’t feel right.”

“I’m not hiding us,” I say gently, squeezing his hand. “I just want the announcement to feel right. Please, Owen. It’s only for one night.”

His eyes search mine, and I can see the battle playing out in his mind. Finally, he exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair. “Fine,” he says reluctantly. “Only because it’s important to you. I don’t like it, though.”

“I know,” I whisper, leaning forward to press a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you.”

As I slip the ring off and tuck it carefully into my jewelry box in the guest room, a pang of guilt settles in my chest. I hate that this bothers him so much, but I think waiting is the right thing to do. Tomorrow, it’ll all be out in the open, and we’ll be able to celebrate with everyone we love. Until then, I just have to hold on to the promise of what’s to come.

The garage is quiet, save for the soft rustle of cellophane and the occasional clink of Easter candy being arranged into baskets. Ruby and Sara are asleep, and the house has settled into the kind of stillness that only comes after a long day. Shelly and I are sitting on the floor in the garage, assembling Easter baskets for the kids. The scent of chocolate and sugary marshmallows hangs in the air, and the rhythm of tying ribbons and arranging candy is oddly soothing, even though my mind is still racing.

I glance down at the unfinished basket in front of me, my hands carefully placing jellybeans around a small stuffed bunny. I can still feel the weight of the ring in the jewelry box upstairs, and though I know it’s only temporary, the thought of not wearing it makes me feel oddly exposed.

Shelly smiles as she ties a bright yellow bow around one of the baskets. “I used to love doing this for you girls,” she says, her voice warm. “It’s nice having little ones around again. Makes it feel like Easter should.”

I glance over at her, managing a small smile. “You always went all out,” I say, dropping a handful of jellybeans into Ruby’s basket. “I don’t know how you made it look so effortless.”

Shelly shrugs, her smile softening. “Lots of practice. Speaking of which…” Her tone shifts slightly, becoming more measured. “It’s going to take some practice for you too, you know. Especially if things keep getting serious with Owen.”

I freeze, my hands hovering over a bag of chocolate eggs. My heart skips a beat, and I feel a faint pang of unease ripple through me. “What do you mean?” I ask carefully, trying to keep my tone neutral.

She doesn’t look up, her attention focused on tying another bow. “I mean, you’re doing a great job with Sara and Ruby, but Barrett... That’s a whole different situation, isn’t it?”

The words hang in the air, and my stomach twists. It’s not what she says—it’s how she says it, like there’s an invisible line she thinks I can’t cross.

My chest tightens, and I set the candy down slowly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Shelly glances at me, her expression unreadable, which only fuels the fire building in my chest. “Don’t get me wrong, sweetie. I know you love Barrett. But it’s not the same, is it? You’ll never love him the way you love your girls.”

Her words hit me like a slap, and for a moment, I can’t even breathe. The edges of the room blur, and all I can focus on is the sheer audacity of her statement.

“That’s not true,” I say, my voice sharper than I intended.

She raises an eyebrow, her tone remaining calm, like she’s talking about the weather. “It’s not about loving him less. It’s just... different. He’s not yours, Callie. He’s Owen’s. And no matter how much you care about him, there will always be a difference.”

Anger and disbelief swirl in my chest, sharp and unrelenting. My throat feels tight, but I force myself to breathe as I push back from the table, standing abruptly. “You don’t know anything about how I feel about Barrett,” I say, my voice trembling with emotion.

Shelly blinks, clearly taken aback by my reaction.

“Yes, he’s Owen’s son, but he’s a part of our family now. I love him like he’s my own, and if you can’t understand that, then maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do.”

Shelly raises her hands slightly, a placating gesture, but it only makes me angrier. “Callie, I didn’t mean?—”

“Yes, you did,” I cut her off, my voice steady but firm. “And I don’t want to hear it. Barrett is just as much a part of this family as Sara and Ruby, and I won’t let anyone—anyone—say otherwise.”

For a moment, the room is completely silent except for the faint sound of the refrigerator humming in the background. Shelly’s eyes widen slightly, and she looks like she’s about to say something else, but I don’t give her the chance.

I pick up the unfinished basket in front of me, my hands shaking as I try to steady my breathing. Every fiber of my being is burning with the need to defend Barrett—to protect the bond I’ve worked so hard to build with him.

As I sit on the couch in the living room, the basket of candy and toys balanced on my lap, the anger simmers just beneath the surface. I think about Barrett’s little laugh, the way he lights up when I walk into the room, the quiet trust he’s placed in me despite everything he’s been through.

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