"Hey,” he smiles, like he’s so happy to see me. “There she is."
And with that—Ibreak.
All of these weeks of trying to hold it together and doing it on my own. It's all catching up to me, washing over me like a wave that leaves me gasping for air. The nausea, the exhaustion from not sleeping well last night, the fatigue from chemo, my hair falling out, and then finally, the image of Paul and Elise together playing over and over in my head.
I'm so tired, and I'm not okay.
It's like one of those dreams where you try to run but keep stumbling. I need something steady to hold onto. I need to get my bearings. I need someone to catch me. I need—
"Callum..." I squeak out, my throat tight and my eyes burning. The first tear slipping down my cheek wipes the smile from his face, and he immediately pushes from the truck to stride over to me.
"Sophie?" His tone is worried, a little frantic, and his hands hover between us, as if he's not sure he can touch me. When his strong arms open, looking so welcoming, I fall right into them. He immediately pulls me closer to him, his embrace is so big, so steady, so warm, and I just...
I let go.
I take a deep, hitching breath and sob right into his grey t-shirt, darkening it with my tears. I let myself feel, and cry, and break in the arms of this dependable, immovable man. He pulls me in even tighter, and his large hand cups the back of my head. I can hear his heartbeat, strong and a little fast. Mine the same in my own chest.
"I... I-I'm... I'm not—"
"I know," he murmurs, his voice achingly soft and tender. "I know, Sophie. I'm here."
"I'm sorry—"
"Don't be. You don't have to be okay, you don't have to be anything but Sophie right now." Callum shushes me, gently rocking me side to side in his arms.
It's like something finally clicks into place inside of me after being just off for too long. I need to let go, to be weak, if only for a second.
However, this surrender doesn't feel like defeat.
It feels like victory in a way, just being here in this moment, held in Callum's arms, his voice against my temple murmuring,
"I've got you, sweet girl."
Chapter Seventeen
Callum
I knew she wasn't okay.
But, God, she was tryingsohard to be, and if it didn't break my heart to see her struggle. I want to help, I want to be there for her, I want to hold her and shield her from the problems she's facing, and take them all myself.
This beautiful, wonderful woman has endured all these terrible things, and she still keeps smiling and being kind. The injustice of it is so unfair, and I feel helpless.
All I can do is be here for her, help however she needs, and take care of the heavy lifting and the small tasks so she can focus on healing her body and her heart. As I said before, I'll be whoever she needs me to be, a friend above all.
She seems so reluctant to rely on anyone. Sophie thinks that asking for help is somehow seen as admitting weakness or surrendering, and I understand that I can't force it out of her.
Whenever I offer my support, there's a momentary flicker in her eyes that could be gratitude or maybe relief. Sometimes she even gives a faint smile, as if surprised by the kindness and unsure how to respond. It's small, barely there, but it tells me that she's starting to accept that she doesn't have to face everything on her own. That I'm here for her.
To be honest, these last couple of weeks have been some of the best in my life because of her. I've always had good times at book club or hanging out with Jack and Oliver, and I did feel content before I met Sophie.
But now, with her in my life...
It's justbetter. All around, everything is better with her in it.
I wasn't lying when I said I've never known anyone like her before.
She's kind. Not the kind of kindness you put on for show, but the real kind that makes people feel seen. She always speaks politely to waitresses or customer service workers, calling them by name and asking how their day is going. She tips well and thanks them like she really means it.
