He simply nodded, staring into the fire.
By the time she’d returned, her hair damp, Callan was sitting where she’d left him, his posture rigid and tense.
A sense of unease crept over her as she approached him, noting the strain in his voice when he said, “We need to talk, lass.”
Her heart raced, a thousand possibilities running through her mind. Had she done something wrong? Was he having second thoughts about their relationship? This had to be about how she’d overreacted earlier.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly.
Callan’s eyes met hers, and she was taken aback by the frustration and hurt she saw in them.
“I canna keep doing this, Daisy. I canna keep reassuring ye every time I’m away for a wee bit. Do ye still not trust me?”
His words hit her like a physical blow. She did trust him, more than she had ever trusted anyone. But her past experiences, the scars left by those who had abandoned her, still lingered.
“I... I do trust you. It’s just... my past...”
“Aye, I know about your past, Daisy. But I’m not your parents or your old lovers. I willna abandon ye.” Callan’s accent deepened, the frustration evident in his voice.
Tears pricked at the corner of her eyes. She knew he was different, that he had proven himself time and again. But old scars ran deep, and sometimes, they overwhelmed her.
“I know. I’m sorry. It’s... hard for me sometimes.”
Callan ran a hand through his hair. “Do ye not see it hurts me? To think that ye still doubt my commitment to ye, after all this time?”
She reached for him, wanting to comfort him, to reassure him that she did trust him. But he stood and took a step back, shaking his head.
“I need to be alone for a bit.” He carried Brodie into the van with him.
When he came out, he had his shower bag in hand.
“The wee beast is asleep. I gave him some of the dog food and water, along with his medicine.”
Not waiting for a response, he walked away without looking back as her heart shattered. Tears streamed down her face, the weight of her fears and doubts crushing her. She’d ruined everything.
As the night wore on, she sat by the fire, lost in thought, trying to put the past behind her. In her head, she knew he wouldn’t leave, but her heart wasn’t so sure. She had to believe that she deserved this happiness, this love, and that it wouldn’t be snatched away from her.
“It will be fine. Everything will work out.” She kept telling herself over and over, hoping eventually she would believe it.
By the timeCallan returned to the camper after his shower, the fire had dwindled to embers, casting a faint glow on the walls of the van.
When his lass saw him, she wiped her eyes, stood, and went to the van, softly closing the door behind her.
Neither of them said a word.
He sighed, accepting that their conversation would have to wait until morning.
Settling into the camp chair, Callan gazed up at the star-studded sky, his mind replaying their argument, the hurt in Daisy’s eyes, and the frustration in his own voice.
He longed to hold her, to reassure her of his commitment, but he was tired of always having to reassure her of his feelings.
As dawn broke, Callan stirred from a fitful slumber. Soon after, Daisy emerged from the camper, her eyes puffy and her demeanor reserved.
“Mornin’,” Callan greeted her, his voice rough from the sleepless night.
“Morning,” Daisy replied, busying herself with packing up their belongings.
They worked in silence, the usual banter and laughter conspicuously absent. Callan loaded their things into the van, his movements precise and efficient, their gaze rarely meeting.
