“No!” I cut him off. “I would have understood about the record deal and the tour. I would have been happy for you, and I would have wanted you to do it. I knew your dreams when I fell for you. I just thought I was a part of them, too.”
“You were.” His voice was thick with regret, and my anger stilled as I watched the torment reflected within his irises. He swallowed, closing his eyes.
I gave him a moment, but when he didn’t say anything else, I shook my head slowly, deliberating.
A very real part of me had wanted this so bad for so long; for Calum to show up and tell me he regretted leaving. But now that he was standing in front of me, laying it all out…I didn’t know how to react.
Fool me once.
“Clearly, that changed the moment you got something you wanted more than me.”
“That’s not true,” he said, his eyes popping up, his fixed gaze as resolute as the truth in his voice.
“Okay,” I finally said, clearing my throat. Understanding Calum used to come second nature to me, but after he left, I second-guessed my ability to read him. “It doesn’t really matter, though. What’s done is done.”
He ran his hand over his jaw and leaned back, appraising me warily. “What now?”
“What do you mean?” I asked, my stomach dropping with nervousness.
“Where do we go from here?”
All I could do was stare at him blankly, shaking my head softly as anger rose like a wave within me. “I don’t really know what you’re asking right now, Calum.”
The room was too quiet, I could hear my own pulse and each pull of air into my lungs.
“I came back to apologize for the way I left things between us. I didn’t exactly expect to find out I had a son. Not going to lie, that’s a bit of a shock, and I’m trying to process that.” He laughed, almost bitterly.
“Take your time,” I said dryly. He shot me a look, his nostrils flaring slightly. He was angry—at me, at himself, at it all. I reacted to the fire in his eyes, my stomach clenched with white-hot desire—misplaceddesire, I told myself.
Taking a stabilizing breath, I ignored it, pressing it back down, deep inside, where it needed to stay.
Calum turned, pacing away from me, gracing me with his muscular back as he pushed his fingers through his hair with aggravation. Pivoting, he confronted me again.
“What does he know about me?” he asked, swallowing thickly, eyes sweeping over my face as if he was trying to see into the years he’d missed. The guilt twisted in my stomach.
The thought that he might be mad—might hate me—for not trying harder to reach out to him struck me. I closed my eyes, needing the respite from his heavy, penetrating gaze. When I opened them again, I focused on his collarbone as he moved closer. He stopped, leaving a foot of space between us.
“I told him your name was Cal, and that you travelled a lot for work.” I kept my gaze affixed to his collarbone. The breaths tumbling from my lungs were shallow, and tears burned behind my lids.
When Asher was younger, I’d tell him the story of how I met his father and how we fell in love. I altered the ending and told him his job required him to spend years travelling. In a way, it was true.
The story would comfort Asher, and he’d drift off to sleep with positive thoughts of a father he’d never known, a man I’d once loved so desperately. I’d only ever wanted to share the good with my son.
Calum exhaled heavily, and I felt the warmth of his breath on my lips, stirring old familiar feelings. I licked my lips, brow creasing as I forced myself to take a step back. The closer I was to him, the harder it was to think.
He nodded, watching me with eyes that seemed to miss nothing. I was trapped in his gaze. “Can I meet him?”
I bit my lip, my brows creasing as I deliberated. I had no idea what Calum’s plans were, but I doubt they included sticking around. I didn’t want to have Asher growing attached to someone he’d only see once every decade or so.
But Calum had a right to know him, and more importantly—Asher had a right to know his father, however frequently he’d get to see him. I couldn’t stand in the way of that.
Pain flickered through his irises at my hesitation, but he nodded with a resigned understanding.
He went to move toward the door, but my hand shot out to grasp his bicep to still him. I swallowed hard; my throat impossibly dry. “Calum, wait—”
I couldn’t remember the rest of what I was going to say, not with his eyes burning and flickering the way they were. All too easily, I was transported to another time and place; a time before the hurt and a place before the desertion.
“I do want you to meet him, to know him,” I said, finally finding my voice. Realizing I was still clenching his bicep, I dropped my hand. “But Asher is smart and very,veryperceptive. All I’ve given him is your name, and the moment he hears it…he will know exactly who you are.”
