The words hit the air and settled over everyone like dust. I felt every eye in the backyard shift toward me: his father watched carefully, his sister toyed nervously with her napkin, and the staff hesitated, pretending not to listen while clearly straining to catch every word.
I tightened my hand around Callahan’s. He didn’t pull away. His fingers laced with mine instantly, strong and steady, grounding me. For a split second, I considered staying quiet. Letting Callahan handle it. Letting the storm pass.
But if I stayed silent now, I would stay silent forever.
I frowned.
“What do you really want?” I asked.
“I just told you what I want,” she snapped.
“No,” I said calmly. “You told me what you think of me. That’s not the same thing.”
"Maybe we should all just take a break," Mr. Sterling suggested, aiming to lighten the mood, though it was too late for that.
“Do you want to force your son into a relationship with a woman he doesn’t like?” The words fell out of me. “Or do you want to get to know the woman he chose to spend his life with?”
Her lips parted slightly, her eyes narrowing in disbelief at my response, jaw tensing as she searched for words.
But she didn’t say anything.
I waited.
One second.
Two.
Three.
Silence.
When she still didn’t respond, I continued.
“You think I married him for money,” I said. “Do you know how insulting that is? Not to me—but to him?”
Her chin lifted. “My son is the heir to a billion-dollar company. It is only logical to assume...”
“That he’s incapable of being loved for who he is?” I cut in softly.
Callahan shifted beside me. “Evania,” he murmured.
“No,” I said gently, not taking my eyes off her. “If this is going to happen, it’s happening now.”
I swallowed once and decided if I was going to burn, I might as well burn completely.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I said, my voice strengthening. “I will be the one he has children with.”
Callahan inhaled sharply.
“I will be the one he grows old with. The one who shares his bed, his fears, his burdens, his victories.” I looked directly at her. “The one who holds his hand when you’re no longer here to do it.”
That landed.
Her face paled slightly.
“So you can either get with the program,” I continued evenly, “and watch your son be happy, or you can get used to the idea of being estranged.”
16- callahan
