Away from Paul.
Toward healing.
Toward Callum.
His chest rumbles under my head, sounding like a bear waking up, and I have to hold back a giggle. I feel him slowly becoming aware of his surroundings, but I stay right where I am. It's cold, Callum is warm, and I'm just too comfortable to move. He tenses for only a moment until he feels me snuggle deeper into his embrace.
"Good morning," he rumbles in my ear, his voice scratchy andraspy from sleep.Good lord...
"Good morning," I reply softly, tilting my head up to meet his eyes.
Now he's the one who looks a little sheepish at our position, just like I had been last night after I fell asleep on him during Matilda. His cheeks darken above his beard, he opens his mouth to say something—apologize without need, most likely—but I don't move.
No, I just grin up at him, showing that I'm not displeased. Quite the opposite.
The flush on his cheeks remains, but the expression on his face relaxes into a grin that matches mine. His arm tightens around me, and I just snuggle into him once more with a contented sigh.
"Sorry for—"
"That was the best sleep I've had in a while," I cut him off, keeping my voice soft. "Thank you, Callum."
"I didn't do anything," he tries to brush my words off, minimizing his impact, but I refuse to let him do that to himself.
"I needed you to stay, and youstayed," I shrug, once again lying my head down on his shoulder. "That's all I needed."
I feel a slight pressure on my head, and I bite my bottom lip to somehow tame the happy smile on my face, knowing he just kissed my head.
Twenty minutes later, my bladder is screaming at me, too insistent to ignore anymore. Reluctantly, I untangle myself from Callum, who immediately lets me, though his face reads a little disappointment, too. I stand and stretch, groaning a bit at the small pops up and down my back. Callum then stands too, his own back cracking, and he stretches the arm and shoulder that I was lying on.
"Sorry," I apologize, though there's a small smile on my face, and he just chuckles.
"Worth it for you to get good sleep," he shrugs, stretching his arms up and giving me a peek at an abdomen dusted with dark hair. My brain goes blank at that small strip of skin.
Oh...
I swallow and clear my throat, nodding toward the hallway.
"The bathroom is down the hall to the left."
I hurry into my own en-suite bathroom to attend to my business. I quickly brush my teeth and rinse my face, grimacing at my reflection in the mirror—sleep rumpled, an indent on my cheek from Callum's t-shirt, and my hair is looking crazy. I should feel embarrassed, I would normally, but I don’t.
It'sCallum.
He's seen me, the worst of it so far—vomiting, crying, broken, and balding Sophie—and he's not running for the hills.
Still, I smooth my hair down and change out of my pants and hoodie. I grab a pair of black leggings, a white sweatshirt, and new white socks with little hearts on them to change into. When I take my phone out of my bag and plug it in, I see it's a little past eight in the morning. I really hope that I didn’t mess up his or Maeve’s morning routine.
When I walk into the kitchen, Callum is already there making us coffee. I smile and grab two mugs out of the cabinet. Just as it did yesterday, this action, this mundane ritual, feels incredibly domestic and comfortable. Callum just smiles at me as I take my usual morning medication with a glass of water.
A knock at my door makes me frown in confusion, since I don't expect any deliveries or visitors this early. For a moment, I panic thinking that it'sPaul, that he's back because he forgot something, or worse, wants to wish me a happy birthday. Callum sees my frown, the flash of worry on my face, and is already moving, heading toward the door.
"I got it, Sophie," he assures me, and the protective stance, combined with the way he just immediately walked to the doorfor me, makes me smile. I have to distract myself by pouring our coffee and trying not to spill it.
"Uh, Sophie?" Callum's voice asks as he comes back into the kitchen, sounding a little confused and surprised. "Is it your birthday?"
Turning my head, I see him carrying in a large fruit bouquet that makes me laugh—Tess. Even halfway across the world in a different time zone, she still remembers to send me my usual birthday gift from her.
"Yeah," I smile, taking the bouquet from him and placing it on the counter. His eyes widen at my response, but I just nod toward his coffee on the counter, made the way he likes—two sugars, no cream.
