Page 101 of The Other Side

The wait was too long, but it sure as hell was worth every tortured second to inhale this.

Her languid stare creeps into my sight. I’m reeled back to the moment with her, and the floral scent of her perfume blends with the remnants of our lovemaking. The sunlight is still crocheted through her brown hair, and she lays the sunflower against her chest.

Her fingers stroke my bicep through the sleeve of my hoodie. “Heels are not an option for work today,” she grumbles. “I truly don’t know how I didn’t break an ankle.”

“You’re a true champ, Cal,” I playfully retort, tapping her knee with my palm. “Most Valuable Player of the night.”

She shines her pearly whites as she giggles. “I have my moments, I suppose.”

My throat rolls, eyes narrowing as I stitch my gaze to hers. I allow the humor to fizzle out, and then I’m mildly wagging my head. “I don’t ever want to miss another moment with you.”

Her head shakes. “I don’t want to miss another moment with you.”

I straighten my posture, crisscrossing my legs. I settle my forearms on her raised knees again, gently clearing my throat before delivering my news.

As anxious as I am, I never want to keep anything from her.

I never did. And I never will.

That’s just the way it was always meant to be between us.

“Callie, I’m going to visit my mom this weekend,” I tell her.

She blinks through a stoic expression, and I grant her a few seconds. My stomach spirals, expecting her to pop up from the bed and sprint out through the door.

“I know I never went into detail when we went for drinks that first night, but she has cirrhosis. Her liver …” My voice tapers as I shake my head. “It’s scarred and not functioning properly.”

Callie lifts herself on her palms, eyes widening. “What?” she whispers, almost panicked.

“No, it’s not anything new,” I assure her. “She has a home health aide that takes care of her a few times a month. It’s all I can afford right now without her insurance covering it,” I clarify, my chest constricting. “She was diagnosed a couple years ago, but she’s in the intermediate stage. I haven’t visited her this past month, and my heart tells me I should go see her.” I’m swallowing thickly before I add, “So, that’s what I’m gonna do. I’m going back to Willowhart this weekend.”

My eyes dart to her rolling throat. “Well, I-I’ll go with you.”

“No, Callie,” I reject quickly. “I don’t want you going back there.”

Her brows incline, offense written all over her face. “Who are you to tell me where I go and don’t, huh? I said I wanna go with you, and that’s what I’m gonna do.”

“I’m telling you no because I know all the skeletons,” I challenge. Then I swing my legs off the bed to stand to face her. “You haven’t looked back in ten years. Can you honestly say you’re prepared to handle it?” I absently flail an arm out. “Don’t lie. Especially to me. Because I’ll just call you out on your bullshit, and you know that.”

Her lips tuck as she slams the sunflower on the bed to stand. “Maybe I’m not, Brant. Okay?” she counters, hiking her shoulders as tears paint her green eyes. “I don’t know if I’m ready or if I ever will be, but I know that I want to be wherever you are. And I know that you’re acting strong about this, but deep inside it’s killin’ you. I know that I want to be there for you. There’s nothing here that could keep me from riding to Willowhart with you. Nothing.” She gulps tightly, and a wobbly breath sprints from her mouth. “And if you try to shun me out of this trip, I’ll just jump in the bed of your truck when you’re not lookin’. Do you understand me?”

Her last threat almost has me smirking. But I inhale the urge, sinking my hands into the front pocket of my hoodie.

“I always thought about bringing you back there,” I admit calmly. “I always told myself that if I ever got the opportunity, I’d help you build the memories you were supposed to craft all those years ago. Maybe enough of them that you’d want to return after. Not to live there, but to visit with me.” I eject a breath, ingesting another before I’m vomiting more words. “I don’t want you to go to Willowhart for me. I want you to go for you. Because that’s how you truly heal, Callie. Not by running away. You heal by creating a better future.”

Her eyes glisten uncontrollably as she steps closer to me. “I’m done running,” she croaks out. “I’m absolutely terrified, Brant. But I know I’m done running.”

My throat bobs as I close the last couple inches between us. My arms cross around her shoulders just as hers snake up my back. I plant my lips in her hair at the top of her head, and her cheek pastes to my chest. We fall into a position we’ve sunk into a million times before. “Okay, I get that,” I hush. “Just don’t ever stop running toward me.”

She wags her head in my embrace. “Never.”

* * *

Friday afternoon, we’re three hours into our five-hour drive. The two-lane road is smooth as it gently climbs and dips. Wildflowers and patches of grass line either side of it.

My truck lowly hums underneath us. The sound blends with the whizzing of the wind through the cracked windows. Across the center console, my palm finds Callie’s bare thigh, her velvet skin melting into my coarse palm like butter.

I sneak a glimpse at her, my stomach leaping like a teenager. My eyes trace her brown mini dress with these short sleeves that are mildly puffed. A square neckline to accentuate the swells of her full breasts. Her hem is flowy, and her white slip-on sneakers peek at me from the car floor.