Page 162 of Shattered

He started to laugh. “I can tell.”

“What if I mess up?”

“Sam, you’re just observing right?”

“Right. But this is the exact place I want to work once I get my degree. These kids, they literally have nothing, and…Callum, I just want to help them. I just want to make a difference. I want them to know they are safe with me. I want–”

“Take a breath.” Callum cupped the side of her face in his hand. “You are going to be the best damn therapist in the world. You are going to change lives. But you can’t do that if you die the morning of your final practicum from choking on your eggs.”

Sam groaned.

Callum was completely correct. It didn’t lessen the fact that she was still the most nervous she had probably ever been. If things had gone the way she’d originally planned, she figured she would be finishing her second year of med school now. At least, that's what Kristin was doing. But people change, and with those changes, so do their plans.

She had spent far too many hours, days, and weeks contemplating it. Becoming a doctor was supposed to have been her dream. A dream that would get her out of that cycle, and would give her a way to prove everyone wrong. Her freshman year at South Carolina all those years ago had been filled with visions of her showing all those fussy people at Giving Hearts up when she emailed them a copy of her medical degree.

It had taken Callum and then a good many hours sitting on Irene’s couch before she’d figured out she didn’t need to prove them wrong. She didn’t need to prove anything to anyone.

She was herself, and she was enough.

She had promptly walked into their apartment after her last class of her senior year, thrown her bag on the ground and stated, “I’m not going to be a doctor.”

Callum had timidly looked up from his computer.

“Okay?”

“I’m going to be a therapist or counselor. I need to figure out the difference. I’m going to get my master’s in counseling or psychology, or something of the like, I still need to look that up as well,” she’d quickly added with a tilt of her head. “But I am going to help foster kids, and victims of sexual assault, and anyone else who needs it. I don’t have to cut open a body to make it mean something.”

“No. You don’t,” he had confirmed while shutting his computer. And then he’d stood up, walked over to her, and kissed her till she was breathless.

Callum had known this was the route she was going to take for a few months. He’d just been waiting for her to come to the realization herself.

Halfway through her senior year, she had stopped talking about medical jargon, and instead had started spending her days visiting the local homes of foster kids, doing artwork with them, painting their nails, helping with homework, and at times just being present. It was supposed to be a part of her own therapy. At the end

of those days, she’d walked back into their place with the biggest smile on her face.

It made her happy.

And he just wanted her to be happy.

“Are we still going for ice cream tonight when I get back?” Sam questioned once she started eating again, this time at a much less alarming speed. The question roused Callum from his thoughts. “As long as you’re not too tired by then, yeah, I’d love to.” He kissed her cheek. “I’m going to jump in the shower. Don’t leave before I’m out.”

She nodded as he walked off into their room.

*******

They were now living in Charleston. It had been two years since Sam had realized med school wasn’t what she really wanted, it was what Sara had wanted. It was the safe place she had found in Sara, and she’d gravitated to it because, at that time, it had been her only safe space.

But now she had Callum.

Upon this realization, she’d then immediately applied to every graduate counseling program in the southeast with a focus on trauma and adoption counseling. She had gotten into seven. Due to her late applications, most of the acceptances were for the following spring semester and not the fall, but that just meant she had a full six months to prepare for classes and help Callum finish opening a second Topline location down in Charleston.

They had shared a small one bedroom apartment in Columbia for her senior year. Then one day, shortly after Sam had proclaimed her new path, Callum’s mom had shown up at their door. She had been by countless times over the last few months, so it wasn’t completely out of the blue. Callum walked her in with a smile as they found Sam sitting at the table.

“Ms. Ashlyn!” she said, beaming as she reached up to give her a hug.

“I told you, it’s just Ashlyn,” she stated and Sam’s smile grew. “Or, Mom from here on out.”

She had made that remark a few times, but Sam was still too nervous to actually call her that.

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