She’d waved out the car passenger window as she and Dad drove off, leaving me at my mate’s house for the day.Love you, Cal. See you in a few hours.
I’d waved back, a bit embarrassed by her telling me she loved me in front of my friend.
I could see her face, clear as day. The smile in her eyes, the love. Dad reaching past her to wave at me as they drove off.
And I never saw them again.
Grief clawed at my throat as I blinked rapidly against the tears. Beth shifted in her sleep, bringing me back to the bedroom.
I love you so much.
Beth’s voice now. Gazing up at me, adoring. Coming around me at those three wee words given to her freely.
Every day could be the last day she said those words back to me.
Suddenly … I was fucking terrified.
My arm tightened around her.
I didn’t sleep a wink that night.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
BETH
Strolling through the doors of my childhood home, I mentally chastised myself for the butterflies flapping crazily in my belly. This was my mum and dad, for goodness’ sake. Maybe I was uneasy because it almost felt like I’d been lying to them since I was eighteen years old. Or maybe it was the dread plaguing me this week because Callan was acting …off.
I couldn’t put my finger on it. He was with me, but there was a wall up. He didn’t want to talk. He came home from training, we ate, we watched some TV, we had sex. We even made love. But we weren’t talking and that wasn’t us. Even if we had nothing in particular to chat about, he and I were still good with the banter. Once we had an entire twenty-minute discussion about the best flavor of Walker’s Crisps.
However, since we’d saidI love you, there had been no banter. Sometimes I caught him watching me with a sad but worrisome intensity. I didn’t tell him I loved him again and he hadn’t told me. It frightened me. What it could mean.
For now, I had to put that to the back of my mind. It was difficult. I could feel that particular fear crouched there in the shadows, not willing to fully fuck off.
The front door slammed shut at my back. “It’s me!” I called.
Callan was training today for their away game tomorrow against Kingston, the other big Glasgow club. This game was the Scottish Series Cup semifinals, not the Pro League.
So I’d asked my mum and dad if we could talk alone.
“We’re in here!”
Following my mum’s voice, I found her and Dad in the kitchen.
They both got up from the dining table to hug me, their gazes searching. Concerned.
“Want a coffee?”
“I’ll get it.” I moved toward the coffee machine. “You two good?”
They sat back at the table and gestured to their mugs.
“So … what’s this about?” Dad asked without preamble.
There were those swooping nerves in my stomach again. “Let me get my coffee first.”
“Is it about Callan? Because your mother and I would really like to meet him if you two are getting serious.”
“We are serious,” I replied. “I thought it would be less intense for him if he came to a Sunday dinner. That way he’s not facing you two alone. And he’s already met Elle and Grandma Elodie and Grandpa Clark. They liked him.”
