Page 35 of Matthew
“That true for people too?” he asked.
She tilted her head, watching the way the salvia caught the light. “Sometimes,” she said. “Other times, contrast makes you tired.”
His quiet huff of breath could’ve been amusement or agreement.
Either way fit.
The wind tugged at the hem of her shirt as they moved on. Slower now. The kind of pace that invited words you wouldn’t say anywhere else.
“So why this place?” he asked. “Why stay?”
Callie kept her gaze forward, past the line of cedars that flanked the stone path. That was a layered question. She peeled it back carefully.
“Because it’s in my blood,” she said. “My grandfather built it. My dad kept it going. They both passed it down without eversaying the words. At some point, they showed me how to care for it. Like it was a person. Like it mattered.” She inhaled and released it slowly. “And it does.”
Matthew nodded once, his profile still and thoughtful. “You talk about them like they’re still here.”
“Some days it feels that way,” she said, warm memories tugging a smile to her lips.
“I envy you that,” he said quietly. “I didn’t know my dad. He left my mom when I was two.”
Unable to fathom not having her father and grandfather in her life, Callie’s heart squeezed hard in her chest. They’d been her rocks. Her guiding lights.
Her life no doubt would’ve turned out very differently.
Unbeknownst to him, his loss put hers into perspective. Yes, she still grieved for her father, but she noted how blessed she’d been to have him in her life.
By the time they’d reached a clearing near the greenhouse, she got her emotions under control. Mostly.
The glass reflected the hazy afternoon sky, broken only by the outlines of nearby trees. The beauty couldn’t stop the hurt in her heart.
“I’m sorry.” She paused, turning to face him. “What about your mom?”
His jaw shifted slightly, as if he was weighing how much to give her. “She died when I was nineteen. That’s when I joined the Navy.”
Instinctively knowing he wouldn’t elaborate more on the past, she switched to the present. “And then you ended up here.”
He nodded, a slight smirk on his lips. “After the Navy, I needed something different. Caspian talked about Harland as if it had a pulse. Said the people were real. Said they didn’t let you drift too far without calling you back.”
Her heart tugged again, unprepared for the weight of that.
He was alone in the world and yet so calm, so strong, so reliable.
“And now?” she asked, softer.
He looked at her then. His gaze lingered, thoughtful and searching as if he were trying to match the woman in front of him with the weight she carried in her silence.
“Now it’s more than that,” he finally replied.
His voice was quiet, but the meaning behind it sank into her chest.
Callie’s breath caught, a small hitch, still, she knew he’d heard it. She remained rooted despite the warning bells ringing in her head. The moment stretched between them, the soft rustle of wind through the nearby trees the only sound filling the space.
She didn’t mean to reach for him, it just happened. Her fingers found his forearm, light pressure over muscle and warmth. He didn’t move away. If anything, he stepped closer.
Her gaze flicked to his mouth, only for a second.
Apparently, she’d lost control of her body.
