Page 103 of The Callahan Effect

"It doesn't quite feel real to me either."

"It will."

"You think so?"

"I know so."

I drew back just enough to look at him properly, my hands still resting lightly against his waist.

"I've spent weeks wondering why you seemed...different."

He tilted his head.

"Different?"

"Happier. More confident. More at peace with yourself." I shook my head slowly. "I thought it was because I was getting better after the accident. I thought maybe things were finally settling down after everything we'd been through. The whole time you were carrying the biggest secret of your life."

Coach cleared his throat gently, drawing our attention back toward him.

"I hate to interrupt this but the two of you have somewhere else you'd probably rather be than standing in my dining room listening to an old hockey coach getting emotional."

"You're throwing us out?" I asked in disbelief.

"I'm giving you some privacy. I'll clean up in here."

"We can help," I offered automatically.

He dismissed the suggestion with a wave of his hand.

"Not tonight."

"Dad..."

Coach looked at Jack.

"Go and spend the night with your man."

A warmth settled quietly in my chest. There wasn't the slightest awkwardness in his words. No hesitation. No discomfort about Jack and me sharing a room, a life, or loving one another.

Just acceptance.

Complete and unquestioning.

Coach stepped forward once more and embraced Jack briefly before turning to me and pulling me into an equally firm hug.

"Take care of each other."

"We will," I promised.

The November air greeted us the moment we stepped outside, cool enough to carry the sharp scent of fallen leaves and the faint bite that warned winter wasn't far away. The campus was quiet as was typical for a Sunday evening. Scattered lights glowed in residence hall windows and small groups of students wandered along pathways wrapped in hoodies against the chill. Around us, life continued exactly as it had every other night, completely unaware that the world had shifted beneath our feet.

Jack reached for my hand almost immediately and our fingers intertwined naturally.

Neither of us spoke as we began the walk back toward my dormitory.

For once, silence didn't need filling.

It wasn't the old silence that had accompanied Jack for most of his life.