Not just the spreadsheets, I really enjoy the people I work with, and the rhythm of the job comes naturally. I can always appreciate the certainty of numbers, reading financial reports with more ease than some novels.
"God," he says, sounding impressed as he rubs the back of his neck with his free hand, "I wish I could just get numbers the way you do. That's gotta be my least favorite part of owning the store—the financial nonsense. I dread tax season every year."
"I could... take a look at your finances, if you'd like?" I shrug,trying to keep it casual even as I preen at the edge of praise in his voice. I press my lips together, pausing a half second before looking up at him and adding, "Maybe I could put together a spreadsheet to make things easier for you?"
“You'd do that?" Callum's eyebrows raise to his hairline.
"I'd do anything for you," I say with a smile, echoing the very same words he once said to me. Callum's lips quirk, but his eyes soften like melted chocolate.
This relationship will never be one-sided. I’ll care for him just as he cares for me, with everything I have left.
"I'd pay you—" he starts to say before I shake my head, cutting off his offer.
"Nah," I say lightly, waving a hand with a teasing smile on my face. "Just buy me ice cream for life, and we've got a deal."
Callum pauses at that, and he looks at me—really looks—like he's seeing the promise underneath the joke.
For life—next fall, next year, and the year after that, and so on...
The idea of a lasting connection tugs at me. I have to believe in it. When negative thoughts threaten to overwhelm me, I need to trust that I'll still be here and that my body won't give in to cancer. I hope the treatments—the chemo, surgery, and radiation—will be worth it.
Hope is a dangerous thing to hold on to, but I won't succumb to despair.
I'll believe it, even when things get worse, like I know they will. I'll touch my moonstone, and I'll believe in Callum's unshakeable presence, his warm smile, and his kind heart. I'll think of wise Maeve, my wonderfully crazy book club friends, and Donna and Rich. I'll think of Tess even though she's an ocean away...
I'll think of my family, the people who love me, and I'llbreathe.
"Ice creamfor life?" he repeats, like he's tucking the idea away. "Yeah. I can do that."
He says it effortlessly, like forever doesn't scare him, and the idea of me being here next year is just a given. Not even able to help it, I shift on the seat until I'm fully leaning into his side, and his arm automatically curves around my shoulders. Connected completely now, my head rests on his broad shoulder like it belongs there.
Because I do, this is exactly where I belong.
And then, with a brief pressure against my hat, I feel it—a soft kiss against my head, so gentle and sweet.
The Ferris wheel slows, giving us a view of the entire carnival. The shrieks of laughter, the clank of the rides, and the music playing below all fade into the background. For a moment, it feels like the universe is holding its breath just for us.
Callum's tone is soft, sounding almost unsure as he asks me, "Did... did you have fun tonight?"
I sigh contentedly and lift my head to meet his eyes, his expression hopeful. "So much fun. This is—hands down—the best date I've ever been on."
"I'm sure that's not true," Callum's brows lift, eyes narrowing just slightly in disbelief, like he's not sure I mean it. "There's gotta be better ones."
"No, there aren't," I tell him with full confidence. "First of all, this is the best carnival I've ever been to. You won me otters!"
Lifting my prize from my lap, I wave them at him, and he laughs that rich, warm laugh.
"Secondly... none of those dates were with you."
There's a current flowing between us, bouncing back and forth in a steady rhythm, an electricity only we can feel. For a couple of moments, we just look at each other, Callum's eyes not leaving mine as he reaches out and brushes his warm fingersalong my cheek. The contact breaks me wide open, and the world shrinks and shrinks until it's just us.
"Do you feel it, Callum?" I whisper, not wanting to disturb the moment. His eyes lock onto mine, and his fingers shift, growing more confident, as he's cupping my cheek now. I want to purr like Plot when his thumb brushes slowly along my skin.
"Yeah, sweet girl... I feel it," Callum murmurs back to me, his deep voice a little husky. "Since the first time I laid eyes on you... I felt it."
I place my hand over his and turn my face, kissing his palm. He sucks in a sharp breath, his nostrils flaring slightly, and I keep my hand right where it is. His warm touch is so comforting, I want to sink into this feeling and stay there forever.
"My mom always said that the first time she laid eyes on my dad, she just knew," Callum says with a soft smile, his thumb resuming its gentle strokes. "And my dad... he said the same. He never believed in her witchy stuff, but he told me that loving her was like riding a bike—once he started, he forgot what it felt like not to love her, and he never wanted to go back."
