The tone of his voice sounds heavy, and my mind instantly takes me back to that time months ago, when Paul dropped his bombshell of betrayal. While I know that Callum is not cheating on me—he barely lets me out of his sight—my heart still goes to the worst-case scenario.
I reach out to grab his hand, squeezing it gently and feeling him squeeze back. "It's something that happened at the hospital," he says quietly. "I didn't tell you immediately because I wanted to wait until you were healed and more stable, because it's about Paul..."
I wince, my fingers tightening around his. The day before I was discharged from the hospital, when I was finally feelingbetter and just ready to go home, Callum told me Paul had shown up. I had felt awful that I still had him listed as my emergency contact. It was not my intention. I had completely forgotten about changing it. All the scheduling and paperwork upon paperwork—from filling out my medical history no less than five times to battling insurance providers to talking to a lawyer about making out my will.
If I had known, it sure as hell wouldn't have been Paul listed anymore.
"Tell me," I whisper.
Callum inhales slowly, exhaling through his nose. "He asked me if you would speak to him when you're better."
I blink. And blink again. I wasn't expecting that at all.
"Speak to me?" I ask Callum, frowning when he nods. "What could he possibly have to say to me?"
"He said he wants to apologize to you properly."
I snort, "Well, he said the word sorry a lot the last time we spoke. I don't really need to hear it another time."
Callum nods, his thumb brushing the back of my hand. The movement soothes me, and I notice that I don't really feel anger toward Paul anymore. I had put all of it on the back burner immediately after we broke up because I had more important things to worry about. I didn't want to waste energy focusing on the ache in my chest from the man I loved betraying me.
I once said that love is like a muscle you need to exercise or it will atrophy, and I think that's true.
Because when I think of Paul, I don't really feel anything. And I think that's the sure sign that I don't love that man anymore. Not one bit. The opposite of love isn't hate, it's indifference, and that's a perfect way to describe how I feel about Paul. It's how I feel about Max and Spencer, too.Nothing.
But when I think of the man in front of me, and I compare the love I once felt for Paul to it, it's like comparing a flickeringcandle flame to the sun. Not just the feeling of love that I feel for Callum, but the way he loves me and cares for me.
To Callum, love is a verb. To Paul, it is a noun.
"What do you think I should do, otter?" I ask, crawling up from my spot and into Callum's open and waiting arms. He places a sweet kiss on my temple and folds me into his embrace, gently rocking us back and forth on the couch.
"I don't think I can tell you what to do with this, sweet girl," he murmurs against my skin.
"I know, but I want your thoughts. Did he even seem genuine? Because the last time I saw him, he said..."
"Because I don't know how to be what you need through twelve weeks and surgery and radiation and the—and... we haven't had sex in a long time—"
"And the surgery—losing your breasts—it's—that's... it's a problem for me."
"I'm sorry. More than you can know. I'm so sorry, Sophie."
I shake my head to clear the words, and Callum tightens his arms around me. He knows. I told him all of it. The ugly words that he's done so much to erase from my brain—every single fear Paul brought, Callum didn't even blink at. They'll never fully be erased from my brain, but they don't hurt so much anymore.
Callum cups my face, thumb gently brushing the apple of my cheek.
"I think... he seemed genuine. I still don't like him and I never will, not after what he did to you, but... I think he's drowning in regret right now and is trying to swim out of it. And he thinks your forgiveness might be a life jacket. You don't owe him a thing, though, Sophie."
I've been texting Donna ever since Paul told her about me in the hospital, and she talked to Maeve about what was going on. She still keeps her 'no talking about Paul' rule with me, but she let it slip the other day and said something about Paul andhis dad putting up her Christmas lights, so I know he's back living there with them. And that's totally fine. I never wanted to isolate Paul from his family. I had been genuinely—pleasantly—surprised when they cut him off for me, but if Donna has let him back into her house, then she must see a change in him.
Which is good, I hope he does change.
I hope he never does to anyone else what he did to me.
"I can't say that I'm not curious to hear what he has to say," I sigh, but peer up at Callum's face. "But, how do you feel about me speaking to him?"
"I trust you."
His answer is immediate and instinctive, and it makes me smile.
