Page 84 of Legacy

I sighed despite the seriousness of the subject. “Felicity.”

“No, you’re not that much older than me. And we’re friends. Our family is close. How did I not know you were married?”

“It was right after college. When I was in the NFL? Did you not follow me at all then?”

“I was a little busy at the time. And we didn’t see each other at all during that time. Which, in retrospect, is a pretty decent idea because it would’ve been weird considering I was like in high school or something.”

I shuddered. “Okay, stop talking about ages like that.”

“Exactly. You were married?”

“Yeah. I was.”

“And now you’re divorced. Right? Oh my God, I’m not sleeping with a married man, am I?”

“Baby.” I pulled her beer out of her hand, set it down, and cupped her cheek. “No. You’re not sleeping with a married man. But no, I’m not divorced.”

“What do you mean? It doesn’t make any sense.”

“I’m really not good at this.” I let out a breath and went to take a step back. Felicity immediately grabbed my hand.

“Talk to me.”

“My wife’s name was Georgia. Hence the name of the first beer we ever made.”

“Oh. I thought it was because of, like, the state or something. Which didn’t really make any sense since we live in Colorado, and you were in LA when you were playing in the NFL, but really? You were married. Wait. You said was.” Her eyes filled with tears again, and I cursed under my breath. “Oh, Callum. I’m so sorry.”

“It was a long time ago.”

“Not that long, and it doesn’t make grief any easier.”

“You’re right. It doesn’t.” I ran my hands over my face and paced the kitchen. “Georgia and I met in college. We got married at twenty-two. She was dead by twenty-five.”

“Right when you moved here.” Her voice broke.

I nodded. “I’ve only been back for a few years, Felicity.”

Her teeth bit into her lip, and she looked down. “May I ask what happened?”

“She had a brain bleed.” I shrugged. That familiar pain long since drilled down into just a sense of grief that ebbed and flowed.

“It came out of nowhere, and her platelets were low for some reason. We’ll never figure out why. Maybe if she hadn’t had the brain bleed, we would have, or maybe even caught it ahead of time. But we didn’t. One moment, she was fine. The other, she was passed out on the kitchen floor.”

“You don’t have to continue if you don’t want to. You’ve never talked about her before, so if it’s too hard…”

“It’s not that. I don’t talk about her a lot because it’s been ten years, Felicity. Ten years where nobody in town really knew her.”

“Do my brothers know?”

“They do. But you and I weren’t really friends or in each other’s realms ten years ago, Felicity. At least, I would hope not.”

“True. Okay, I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sorry too. I’m sorrier that it didn’t take her out right away.”

Her eyes widened at the bitterness in my tone, and I continued so she would understand the monster I felt like.

“She didn’t die right away. She just fell and didn’t wake up. The brain bleed slowly took over. And it was odd watching it over time. Because with each passing moment, when we were in the ICU, life altered. And all I could do was try to figure out the facts.”