“Good. Very good.” Now it sounded true. Because he had some time off work and he was there with— “I came here with a… friend.”
Her look was too knowing. “A friend? You mean agirlfriend?”
He sighed. “We haven’t spoken about that yet.” Which sounded stupid because she already had his heart in her hands since the first moment he had met those beautiful green eyes. “Did you already talk to my mam?”
“Of course. She was excited and nervous. She was scared after Vanessa that you’d never find someone again.”
“Great,” he groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Love the faith.”
“I looked her up,” Rhiannon said casually. “Pro surfer, huh? She’s cool. Just not who I expected.”
Callum frowned. “And who did you expect?”
“Well, you dated Vanessa. They’re like night and day.”
He couldn’t argue with that. Vanessa was composed, conventional. Alejandra was all waves and fire. Vanessa was a beige suit. Alejandra was a barefoot thunderstorm. He couldn’t have fallen in love with two more different people, but the Callum who had loved Vanessa wasn’t the same one who was inevitably falling in love with Alejandra. With Vanessa, they met at Harvard, when he was still a very inexperienced twenty-something from Wales with dreams not yet crashed by life. With Alejandra, maybe he needed unpredictability, maybe he needed the chaos her life was at the moment. Maybe it was destiny they needed to navigate this period together, to find a meaning. Or maybe the meaning was just being together.
“She’s in town, by the way,” Rhiannon added, snapping him back to reality.
“Who?”
“Vanessa.” She frowned.Yeah, stupid question.“With that Garramond guy.”
He grimaced. “Is that real?”
“Saw him grab her ass with my own two eyes.”
His scowl deepened. “Maybe that’s what she needs now.”
“Political connections? For sure.” Rhiannon clicked her tongue, clearly not agreeing with her decisions.
He looked at his grandfather again. He was more important than Vanessa’s love life. “I’ll check on him. I’ll bring Alejandra by later tonight. How’s that?”
“Can’t wait to meet my first Olympic medalist.” She winked, heading back behind the bar.
Callum approached his taid, nerves buzzing. He placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. It took a long moment for him to turn and look at Callum. The blue eyes—so much like his—were distant, unfocused.
“Grant.”
His heart sank.
“I’m not Grant, taid. It’s me, Callum. Your grandson.”
The older man blinked. Looked again. Took him in slowly, like trying to find a memory underwater. And then, finally, something shifted. A flicker of recognition. Maybe.
“Sure, Callum. Look at you, how tall you are. Come here,” he said, arms opening.
Callum leaned into the hug, breathing him in. And for just a second, it felt like home again, even if the memories were fading fast.
48
ALEJANDRA
You Are The Reason - Calum Scott
Callum’s childhoodhome was cozy in a way Alejandra had almost forgotten homes could be. A fire crackled softly in the stone fireplace despite the mild evening chill, filling the room with warmth that smelled faintly of burning wood and rosemary. Bundles of dried herbs hung from the wooden ceiling beams alongside copper pans that reflected the golden light spilling from old lamps around the kitchen.
Eira moved easily between the stove and the kitchen table, stirring something simmering in a heavy pot while carrying on a conversation with Alejandra as if they had known each other for years. The entire house hummed with quiet life—the clinking of plates, the ticking clock on the wall, the low music playing somewhere in the background, the worn floorboards creaking whenever someone crossed the room.
