Page 132 of The Proposal Pact
His quiet words pierce through the silence of the night, ringing loud and clear inside my heart.
He still carries that day in his heart.
He still carries them in his heart.
I swallow the lump of emotions I have no right to feel. “Why did you choose the Navy?” I’d think he’d want nothing to do with the water after that.
“Because I hated it. I hated the water and in my teenage maximalism I wanted to prove something to it. I wanted to blame it for taking them away from me, but soon after I joined and started training, I realized there was only one person to blame here.”
“Callum…” I squeeze his arm.
“I stayed for sixteen years, silently daring it to take me as well. To claim me but it wouldn’t.”
My heart cracks and bleeds for this sullen, strong man sitting here. For all the pain and guilt he’s carried with him all these years.
“Of course, it wouldn’t. The ocean knew you had to meet a crazy woman yelling at her TV soon enough. It didn’t want to rob you of all that fun.” The joke slips out of me as a knee-jerk reaction.
It’s what I do when the situation around me feels too heavy. It’s my way to escape the reality, and I can sense Clover needing that escape.
Him. And me.
Once again, it works because his chest shakes with a silent chuckle. “Of course, it did.”
I burrow deeper into his warmth, chasing away the cold tentacles of the past crawling over us.
“Thank you for listening,” he adds softly, pressing his nose into my hair, his hot breath like honey over a bleeding wound.
The only problem, honey is no use for bleeding wounds, and I’m not sure he has anything else that could be used in this case.
“It’s the least I could do for you making those Converse for me.” I go for that unflappable smile again, raising up from his chest.
“How do you do that?” Clover asks, shaking his head while a smile grazes his lips.
“Do what?”
“Make me want to smile when I feel like dying on the inside.”
My chest squeezes with such intensity that I want to scream, but I don’t. Instead, masking it with more humor.
“I can’t tell if it’s a good or a bad thing.”
This time the smile reaches his eyes as he tucks a loose strand of my hair behind my ear and kisses my nose. “Good, little menace. Definitely good.”
The heart that was supposed to keep me alive…received another cut, losing its color.
I-I need to get away from him. I can’t sit here any longer. I can’t ask another question or answer any of his. I-I can’t.
I’m aware how selfish I’m being.
I’m fully aware. I know tonight’s not about me. Callum shared something so deep, so raw with me, he trusted me with that information and yet I can’t stop the bleeding insidemychest.
“I know it’s not that late yet, but I think I’m ready for bed,” I tell him, needing to keep up my facade for a little while longer.
“Then let’s go to bed,” he agrees, taking my hand he leads me to the bedroom and within moments, his soft lips are on mine.
And I want to cry.
I want to scream and rage and cry so hard it would fill up every corner of my soul.
