When your mother died.I wanted to say the words but held back. He’d felt pain when I rejected him too.
And he’d just hit someone for me.
Callum wasn’t a violent man. I’d seen him challenged in clubs and bars, I’d seen him break up fights that his friends got themselves into, Jonah once, but I’d never seen him really become angry or fight.
“You didn’t need to hit him.”
“I did.” Two words said so calmly. “He was going to really yank you. The shit he’d have ended up in would’ve been huge.”
“You did it to protect him and not me?” I was now kicking myself for sounding like a precious little girl.
That laugh again. “No. He put his hands on you when you didn’t want them there.”
I turned around, still in his arms, still being held. Matt was now well away from us, taken somewhere by the airport staff. I didn’t care. I wouldn’t allow myself to feel responsible for what he’d done or guilty.
“You would do that for anyone?”
I heard him sigh. “Yes. The fact it was you made me want to rip his limbs from his body and feed them to a lion though but I do have some self-control. And a contract to fulfil. Let’s check your bags in. Then get something down you to help with the flight.”
I sagged against him. The flight. The fucking flight.
“Wren, bags, checked in, then we find cocktails. We’re stopping over in Pretoria for a night.”
That was a change.
“Why?”
“Change of crew. Denny’s having to go back home – his mother’s had a heart attack, so someone else is flying out.”
“Oh.” There was the perspective I needed. “Is she okay? Will she be okay?”
“I don’t know. We’ll find out more later.”
We went through check in, and then passport control, reality finally kicking in and the feeling in my legs returning.
Callum sat next to me, the rest of the team laughing and joking, talking about where we were going, doing, making a few jokes about Matt.
He was silent, smiling. No hint of what he was thinking crossing over his beautiful face.
I stay back and sipped on my drink. There was something scarier than flying.
Callum.
Falling in love with Callum Callaghan.
Callum
Harare. Pretoria. Botswana.
I skimmed through the photos I’d taken so far and looked at what to send to the family group chat. There was one of Wren with a couple of pet dogs, owned by Mika who ran the sanctuary in Botswana or another with Wren, this time with a chimpanzee hanging off her. More of Wren. A couple of me with Wren. A selfie of us both, mountains in the distance. Any I sent would be analysed and reported back on.
I chose three and pressed send.
Marie:I thought you had died.
Seph:Aren’t you stalking him on Instagram? He’s far too self-obsessed to die.
Marie:You’re disallowed from Sunday lunch.
