“I know.”
She leaned forward slightly. “You shouldn’t have to deal with people like that alone.”
Warmth surged in my chest, radiating outward until holding still felt impossible. It was such a simple gesture—her words, her hand on my shoulder—but they settled deep, grounding me.
“That’s sweet,” I said softly. “But I’ve got it under control, and I’m not alone. Callahan has been really helpful.”
Her brow lifted. “As he should be.”
My sisters exchanged amused looks.
“But,” I continued, smiling, “it’s nice knowing I have backup.”
My mom squeezed my shoulder. “Always.”
The conversation lingered for a moment before I stood up from my seat.
“I’m going to the bathroom,” I announced to no one in particular.
My sisters were already whispering again by the time I left the room. I walked down the hallway, genuinely planning to go to the bathroom. But when I passed my father’s office, voices drifted through the slightly open door.
My brother’s voice. “…just asking.”
I slowed. Then I heard my father. “Answer the question.”
Curiosity tugged at me. Without really meaning to, I paused outside the door. My brother spoke again. “Are you in love with her?”
My heart skipped. I wanted to barge in and tell him he didn’t have to answer, that my family was just being nosy, but I couldn’t. Not that I expected him to be in love with me; it was probably too early for him to be, even so. The way he answered the question would determine how we moved forward. I was annoyed they’d question his feelings when it was still so new, and at the same time, I was grateful to hear his response.
There was silence, then Callahan spoke. “She’s my oasis in a desert.”
His words knocked the air from my lungs. I froze, not daring to breathe, terrified the sound would betray me. The simple poetry of it—she’s my oasis in a desert—lanced deep, raw and unexpected.
His voice remained calm, sincere. “I don’t think I even realized what I was missing in life until I met her.”
My chest tightened. Emotion rushed through me so quickly that it made my eyes sting.
“If I had a choice,” he continued, “I would choose to meet her sooner just for the chance that she might choose me too.”
“I believe in choice. People choosing each other every day.”
“If that’s what love is,” he finished quietly, “then I’m deep in it.”
Tears rushed to my eyes instantly. Oh no.
No, no, no.
I had to get out of there. Before someone opened the door and found me standing there like a dramatic eavesdropping fool. I turned and hurried down the hallway. By the time I reached the bathroom, my vision was blurry. I shut the door behind me and leaned against it, pressing my hand over my mouth as I forced myself to breathe.
“Get it together,” I whispered.
But my chest felt too full. Too warm. Because the truth was, if I had the chance… If someone asked me to go back and choose again… To say yes to his ridiculous proposal. To enter that fake marriage. To step into his chaotic world.
I would.
Without hesitation.
Every single time.
