I swallowed. “I have endometriosis. And early ovarian insufficiency. We’re not even sure if it’s possible. And I’ve only just started managing it better. So the idea of trying right now would be… a lot. For my body. And my mind.”
I paused, letting my gaze fall to his hand, then up to his face. And for the first time, I was okay saying it out loud. We’d walked through hell together, and we came out the other side still holding hands.
“Besides,” I added softly, “we’ve already had one loss together. We both need some time.”
Callum’s smile was barely there—small, somber, but deeply full of love. His eyes searched mine like he was memorizing them all over again. He knew how big of a moment this was. Not just voicing the engagement or meeting his parents, but talking about the miscarriage.Namingit for what it was. Aloss. Not as something that broke us, but something we survived. Together.
The screen went quiet. Only the faint hush of the Aegean reached us through the open windows, waves lapping in slow rhythm, like the world was holding its breath with us.
Dougal looked toward Malina, uncertain and uncomfortable.
I was about to offer some nervous reassurance when Callum’s voice broke the silence.
“We’ve got an appointment in the fall,” he told them. “With a specialist in London. We just want to understand the options. So when we are ready—whenever that is—we know what to expect.”
Malina didn’t blink. She just pressed her lips together and nodded slowly. “That’s smart,” she said, her voice warm and low andreal. “That’s no easy thing to carry, Aurélie. And I’m so proud of you for carrying it together.”
My eyes welled unexpectedly.
“That’s the man I raised ye to be, Callum,” Dougal said. “Fearless in the face of the unknown. Supportive through the hardest storms. Loyal when it matters most.”
Callum didn’t speak, but his grip on my hand tightened. The heat of his palm never left mine.
“I know what ye walked away with when ye were just a boy, son. I know how ye were made to feel. But I have never—not once—been anything less than proud of ye. And this?” He nodded toward the screen. “What ye did? Standin’ by this woman, sharin’ something like that with us, holdin’ her hand through it? That’s not just strength. That’s love. The kind worth buildin’ a life on.”
Callum swallowed hard. I leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek, aware of the fact that he’d never felt his dad was proud of him. It wasn’t something he grew up hearing when Malina and Dougal were fighting over everything in their marriage. Callum looked down at our joined hands, thumbs brushing slow over each other like a heartbeat.
Then his shoulders sagged slightly, as if something in him had finally exhaled.
“I’ve known many a woman who’s struggled with fertility,” Malina said, so neither man felt pressured to say more. “Delivered many a bairn, too. ’Course, I was a midwife for fifteen years. It’s sacred work. Dedicated paths, but different for everyone. Midwives' ears hear more stories than most. But I’ve also witnessed more miracles than I can count.” She blinked rapidly, eyes glistening. “So when the time comes—and only when you’re ready—I’ll be here. With teas, herbs, and every daft Scottish ritual you can stomach.”
Then she leaned forward, her tone playful again. “But no more talk of wee bairns right now. No pressure. Just joy. And rest. And letting yourselves be in love. That’s all I want for you.”
The weight in my chest loosened. My throat burned.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
Callum looked at me, like he wanted to ask if I was okay. I gave the smallest nod, then raised my brows slightly. He returned the nod. We were good.
I smoothed a hand over my lap and added lightly, “Besides, I’m still at the start of my career. We’ve got plenty of time.” I grinned. “Especially now thathe’sretiring.”
The second the word left my mouth, I felt the shift in the air. Callum cursed under his breath, fingers paused against mine. And on the screen, both of his parents froze like someone had just unplugged them.
A beat of dead silence.
Malina narrowed her eyes in a scary mom-like action. Callum and I both withered from the look, sinking closer together on the pillows. “Sorry. What was that?”
I turned toward Callum slowly. “You… didn’t tell them?” I asked, voice barely above a whisper.
His jaw flexed, eyes dipping to where our hands were joined.
Dougal leaned forward slightly, brows pinching. “Retiring?”
Malina was already processing, mouth parted. “You’re retiring?”
Callum didn’t answer right away. And that saideverything.
The pathdown to the private beach wasn’t long. Lush tropical plants curled around the stone walkway, casting lazy shadows over my ankles as I padded barefoot from the back door to the soft curve of sand just beyond. There were two entrances from here: one led to the bedroom, the other to the sunlit kitchen Callum had disappeared into when he said, “Just give me a few minutes. I need to tell them properly.”
