He’d been different since the snow day. Quieter, if possible. Not a bad kind of quiet though. More like he was peaceful after a long time of being at war within himself.
A framed photo appeared on the mantle above the fire. I was glad Callum wasn’t around when I spotted it because even as I drank in the details of his family members posing outside their abandoned home, my eyes blurred with tears.
I’d calmed myself before Callum got home. I didn’t need him walking in to find me blubbing. That would lead to comfort, which meant touching, and I was trying to keep that to a minimum.
Which leads nicely to the first time Callum broke my heart on the snow day. Nothing noble about that time. He plain old bashed my feelings with a brick.
Without intending to. I suspected he would be mortified if he knew how his actions had hurt me.
That day had started perfectly. I’d woken in the circle of Callum’s arms. He snoozed behind me, his deep breaths hot puffs against the back of my neck.
I’d only noticed when I stretched that I had a rather impressive—if I do say so myself—morning wood situation. I escaped to the edge of the bed before the temptation to see what Callum looked like conked out was too much.
I styled it out when I realised he was wide awake. He’d been worried about getting into bed with me, so hopefully didn’t notice how I angled myself to avoid showing off my tented pyjama bottoms as I walked to the bathroom.
I’d resisted saying how much I enjoyed waking up snuggled together. Which was fortunate, since his reaction whenI’d half joked about sharing the bed again would have been mortifying—rather than simply embarrassing—if I’d hinted at my feelings for him.
And I definitely had feelings for Callum. I’d slammed the bathroom door closed and let the warm water of the shower wash the tears off my face.
I’d known I would go for it if Callum wanted anything vaguely romantic to happen between us. Not even romantic. I was down for any kind of additional touching time. But I hadn’t known how far gone I was.
People didn’t cry over rejection from someone they had the start of feelings for.
I hadn’t felt this crushed when Kimberley dumped me. Or when I found out what Mark had done. Or when Jamie called things off.
Insane, because Callum and I hadn’t even started anything. We hadn’t hinted at starting anything. Yet his horrified face when I’d suggested sleeping in close quarters with one another was enough to reduce me to a crestfallen mess.
I’d allowed myself a minute to mourn what would never be, then gave myself a stern talking-to.
Callum wasn’t interested in me, which was actually a blessing. I’d come to Doughnut to learn to be alone, and maybe that was better done in the presence of someone I would really like to get closer to. It was unrealistic to expect to never develop feelings for someone again but if I could suppress and deny them around Callum, I could do the same with anyone else. I wouldn’t leave the island devoid of the need for human closeness, but I’d know how to ignore that desire.
My newly adjusted plan was to carry on with the routine we’d fallen into. Callum considered all our interactions to be friendly, so I’d make sure to stay consistent. Then Callum wouldn’t be made uncomfortable by my inconvenient feelings, and my heart wouldn’t develop any more of an attachment to him than it already stupidly had.
The snow-day-of-revelations-and-crying didn’t get me off to a great start. After Callum pulled away, his eyes rimmed red and his breath catching on irregular hiccups, all I’d wanted to do was tug him into my arms again. But I resisted. He got cleaned up, I hunted for snacks, and we watched more films.
The snow melted quickly, and within a couple of days we were back to normal. We still hugged, but only at preapproved hugging times. As soon as I melted too far into his embrace, I pulled away and distracted Callum with talk of our days or suggested Tim needed another bottle.
That goat-baby would have been a major cock-block if Callum’s absolute lack of interest in me wasn’t doing the job already.
We watched less TV together. I sat on the armchair each evening instead of on the sofa with him, using the excuse of work to keep my distance. Callum read space operas while I tapped at my laptop. In my defence, there was a lot of work to do now that the island had officially decided winter was over. Flowers had broken out in abundance. I was run ragged noting the differences within the examination squares before another day of crystalline sunlight raised a fresh crop of colourful buds.
I learnt to be around someone I desperately wanted more with, whilst knowing nothing could happen. It was guttingand tiring, but good practice for when my brief break from normal life ended.
Two months left on the island. Totally doable. Even if being around Callum was exquisite agony, now I knew for certain I wanted him and knew for even more certain that he wasn’t interested in me at all.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CALLUM
I’d done something wrong.
It was the only explanation. Ever since I’d talked to Aster about the storm, he’d been strange.
I hadn’t noticed at first. Too relieved that the mass of lies had been stripped from my mind, for days I walked around in a daze. Everything seemed sharper. I walked from shelter to shelter as the snow melted, and felt like I was tracking across the island for the first time.
I still carried guilt, but it was muted. I wouldn’t ever stop feeling sorry I was alive while most of my family had died, but at least now I wasn’t dragging around the impossibly weighty belief that I’d been the cause of their untimely deaths.
I felt freed. The air was fresher, the sky bluer, all the sounds and scents of the island crisp and new.
