“You were always there for me.”
“And you were always there for me.” I want to reach out and squeeze his knee or his hand. “I’m still here for you, Callan. Whatever you need.”
“Thanks, and right back at you.”
I smile. My heart swells for the man before me.
He wipes his hands over his face. “The thing is, Niamh is right. I don’t want kids.” He frowns. “Didn’t. Don’t. I don’t know which it is.”
“Could you tell me why?”
He lets out a bitter chuckle. “You sound like my therapist.”
“Sorry.”
“No.” He sighs. “It’s good.” He breathes in and then stares at the ceiling. “I’m too broken to be responsible for someone else’s life. But I’ll have to be. Whether I want it or not, whether I’m ready or not, I will be a dad. I’m unsure if the distance will make it harder or easier.”
“Niamh’s staying in London?”
“She said so. If her family weren’t so unforgiving, she might return to Dublin. They’re religious,” he adds.
“They don’t approve?”
“No. But I can’t marry her to make things legitimate in their eyes. We’d make each other miserable.”
“Why didn’t things work out with Niamh?” I close my eyes and inhale slowly. “Sorry. It’s none of my business. I shouldn’t have asked.”
“It’s fine. I”—Callan’s brow crumples—“I want to tell you.”
To be fair, I’m surprised by his admission as well.
“You were always easy to talk to. I think you still are.” He laughs softly. “It must be all that practise you get from being a barman.”
“It must be.”
“Niamh’s the only long-term girlfriend I’ve had,” Callan admits. “Before her, sex was about being in control. Proving to myself I could do it, but on my terms, not someone else’s.” He stares at his hands as he talks, shrinking away from me with every word. “With Niamh…I think I wanted to show everyone that I could have a relationship. I tried, Rory. Really I did. But I couldn’t let her in. She knew something was wrong, but I pushed her away whenever she asked.” He presses his hands over his eyes as he sobs. “She’d hold me after nightmares, and I’d still push her away. I just…couldn’t tell her. I didn’t want her to know. I’m so ashamed of what Coach did to me, Rory. I don’t want anyone to know.”
My gut is wrenching. My fingers twitch against my thighs. I want to hold him. I want to take his pain away.
“Eventually, she got fed up with my secrets. We spent less time together, and eventually, we agreed we’d be better off apart.” Callan lowers his hands. His face is pale and blotchy. “After talking to her today, she clearly blames herself as much as me, but, really, it boils down to me being too ashamed to tell her about my past. I loved her, but I didn’t trust her not to judge me.”
I want to brush the tears from his cheeks. I settle for handing him a tissue. “There’s nothing for anyone to judge you for, Cal. Nothing that happened was your fault.”
He cracks a sad smile. “Tell my head that.” He taps his temple. “I tried to work through the shame in counselling. All I ever managed to do was take the edge off. I don’t think it’s ever going to go away. How am I meant to have a relationship with anyone if I’m too ashamed to tell them about my past?”
“You told me,” I say softly.
“You already knew.”
“Exactly. Because you told me.”
“I trust you.”
His words knock the air out of my lungs. Trust. Not trusted. I’m not sure he realises what he said or what a difference two little letters can make.
“You must have trusted your counsellor.”
Callan snorts. “That’s different. She’s a stranger. Not someone I have to share my life or bed with.”
