Calum’s bright eyes swept over me before locking with mine, his jaw clicking with emotion.
For a moment, I got sucked into their depths—into the swirls of green and blue. Depending on his mood, they’d appear more one way than the other. Right now, they were more blue than green.
I could practically see the thoughts spinning behind his pupils, but we were running out of time. Any moment now, Asher would be walking through the doors, just like he did every day after school. That jolted me back to the present, and I took a solidifying breath, about to ask him to follow me into the back.
When the door chimed, I froze. Asher’s voice drifted over, and my heart thudded unevenly in my chest.
“I figured I would—“ he began, his focus still on me, but Asher chose that moment to come barreling toward the counter, his sudden appearance at Calum’s side sending him into a shocked silence.
Asher’s dark hair was wind-tousled, his hat nowhere to be found, and his navy jacket unzipped, despite my warnings to stay bundled. It was early April, and still cold out.
White headphones rested around his neck, and I knew the iPod he carried everywhere was tucked securely in the pocket of his North face jacket. He might forget his hat and zip up his jacket, but he was endlessly careful with my old school 5th generation iPod—the same iPod Calum had gifted me for my eighteenth birthday.
“Hi Mom!” he said, halting before the counter and peering up at me. “I’m starving! Can I get a donut?”
Calum froze, his eyes moving to Asher, who hadn’t noticed him yet. Not that our son would recognize him. After he left and fell off the grid, I packed away every single photo of the two of us, placing them in a shoebox on the top shelf of my bedroom closet. I couldn’t bear to look at them anymore. Even if Asher had seen the photographs; Calum had changed so much.
But Asher had his father’s ever-changing eyes, his dark hair, even his lips. Their resemblance was undeniably obvious, and Cal’s head turned to me for an explanation. His irises darkened, and it seemed as if he was reading the answer plainly written on my face.
I looked away from his intense gaze, reaching into my pocket for some money. “Get something for Nik, too,” I said, nodding to Asher’s best friend, who was waiting by a table of new releases, his head down and his hands in his pockets. “And get started on your homework.”
He nodded, flashing me a grin so much like his father’s, that it figuratively knocked me back. In my peripheral, Calum pulled his hand away from the counter to rub at the stubble on his jaw, his gaze volleying from me to Asher and back again.
“Thanks, Mom!” He reached out, taking the bill off me, and walked back to Nik. While the two boys stood in the café line, I turned my attention back to Calum. The intensity of his stare made me feel off balance.
Before I could open my mouth to tell him we needed to talk, he leaned forward, his hands pressing against the counter. Hands that had once cradled my face before he kissed me. Hands that once had brought me so much pleasure. Hands that hadn’t bothered to pick up a phone and reach out.
“How old is he, Harper?” His accusatory eyes flashed.
Mine narrowed defensively. He was drawing attention to us, now. People in the store were starting to recognize him. Shelly was openly watching the exchange, her eyes wide with astonishment. We couldn’t have this conversation here, nor could we have it out on the street, thanks to his celebrity status.
“Shelly, I’m taking a quick break,” I told her. She nodded and moved over to the counter, sending a starstruck smile to Calum. He didn’t even notice; his eyes were locked on me, his jaw tense. “Follow me,” I said, my tone clipped as I led the way to the back of the store. We passed by the café, and Ellery looked up, her eyes widening with shock when she realized who was behind me.
I glanced from her to Asher and back, and she nodded, wordlessly assuring me she’d keep half an eye out on him while I handled the latest storm ripping through my life.
Pausing long enough to type in the code, I opened the door to the back rooms, leading him into the storage room. We’d have privacy here. I stopped walking, turning to face Calum. His jaw ticked, his steel eyes swirling with emotion and questions.
I opened my mouth, finding words elusive. This isn’t how I envisioned things happening, in the storeroom of my business.
“How old is he?” Calum repeated tersely.
“He’ll be eight on April 21st.”
“Is he mine?”
“No. He’s mine, but you are his father.” I couldn’t move my eyes away from his profile. I watched every emotion that flickered through his eyes as he ran his hand over his jaw. Disbelief, hurt, regret, shame, and right back to disbelief.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“And just how was I supposed to do that? Over Twitter? Instagram, perhaps?” I demanded hotly, eyes flashing, and hands clenching at my sides. “You left without a word. You changed your number, your email address. You’re the one that took off without saying goodbye, Calum.”
He froze, absorbing every word like a punch. He was looking at me with an overwhelming intensity that made me want to cry. But I wouldn’t. Focusing on the wall of boxes directly behind him, I drew in a stabilizing breath.
“I thought leaving you was the best thing I could do for you,” he admitted, pulling my attention back to him. “You wanted something I couldn’t give you.”
“Be honest, Calum. You wanted something I couldn’t give you.” I could tell I struck a nerve by the hurt that flashed through his eyes.
“I didn’t know you were pregnant!” he fired back.
“I didn’t either!” I exclaimed. “I found out a few months after you left, when it was apparent that you weren’t coming back,” I added, my voice softer and wavering even as I lifted my chin in stubborn resolve. “You broke my heart, and I wasn’t about to be that tired cliché. You chose your future, so I chose mine.”
Calum looked to the ceiling, drawing in and releasing a deep breath audibly before dropping his gaze back to me. “I’m sorry, Harper. If I’d known—“
“You’d have what?” I asked, shaking my head. He turned his chin, giving himself a moment. When he looked back at me, the shattered regret in his eyes made my breath catch.
“I would have been here, Harper.” I scoffed with disbelief, and he shook his head, stepping closer to me. “I’ve regretted leaving things the way I did since the moment I boarded that plane. I’ve thought about it every second of every day because it’s another moment I let pass before coming back. But if I’d known, Harper—” he choked up, swallowing hard.
His scent, his presence, his words—it all overwhelmed me. Calum stepped in front of me, bringing his hand up to frame my face, his thumb tracing along my jaw, his touch instinctually reverent.
I nearly forgot about every scar he’d left on my heart because in that moment, I wanted so desperately to believe him. I leaned into his touch a fraction, coveting the heat of his palm, the familiar calluses on his fingers from guitar strings, and closed my eyes.
But then, I came to my senses, and I remembered everything that had happened between the last time I saw him and now. His touch couldn’t erase it all.
I stepped back abruptly, shaking my head. “You can’t say that, Calum. You left me because you didn’t want the commitment of a girlfriend ruining your chances at whatever came next.”
His blue eyes locked on mine, stealing my breath, and he shook his head slowly. “It wasn’t about you ruining anything, Harper. It was all me—I thought I couldn’t be it all, and I needed to be this.”
“Well, you’re that,” I said, my tone hard. Pulling my gaze away from his enticing, stormy eyes, I shook my head. “Was it worth it?”
“No,” he swallowed, his gaze was heavy with regret, and it pierced through me, reminding me of my own. His hand dropped to his side, and my eyes tracked the moment. “I’m sorry.”
I nodded stiffly, pulling my eyes away from him for a moment to collect myself. “I
’m sorry too. I didn’t keep this from you to hurt you, but you…you never came back.”
The last words stung coming out, but I pushed them through my lips anyway. I couldn’t tell him that a tiny part of me had waited, almost expecting him to come back, and each day he didn’t…
Calum watched me reflectively, the sorrow deep in his eyes. He already knew what I couldn’t say. He was shouldering the blame, taking on this burden, filing it away with his other failings. “I get it. I should have never left like that in the first place.”
“Why did you?” In all these years, I’d never had the opportunity to ask him why. Through the tabloids and the photos, I assumed that he’d done so to enjoy the spoils of fame. My heart twisted at the mental reminder of how many had touched him since me.
His gaze lifted, caressing over me, from my heels to rest on my face.
“I couldn’t say goodbye,” he finally replied, swallowing.
“So you left?” I shook my head, the tear finally breaking free and rolling down my cheek. I wiped it away with frustration, glaring at him. “It was the shittiest, most hurtful of goodbyes, Cal.”
“Harper—“ he tried, reaching out to me.
“No!” I cut him off. “I would have understood about the record deal and the tour. I would have been happy for you, and I would have wanted you to do it. I knew your dreams when I fell for you. I just thought I was a part of them, too.”
“You were.” His voice was thick with regret, and my anger stilled as I watched the torment reflected within his irises. He swallowed, closing his eyes.
I gave him a moment, but when he didn’t say anything else, I shook my head slowly, deliberating.
A very real part of me had wanted this so bad for so long; for Calum to show up and tell me he regretted leaving. But now that he was standing in front of me, laying it all out…I didn’t know how to react.
Fool me once.
“Clearly, that changed the moment you got something you wanted more than me.”
“That’s not true,” he said, his eyes popping up, his fixed gaze as resolute as the truth in his voice.
“Okay,” I finally said, clearing my throat. Understanding Calum used to come second nature to me, but after he left, I second-guessed my ability to read him. “It doesn’t really matter, though. What’s done is done.”
He ran his hand over his jaw and leaned back, appraising me warily. “What now?”
“What do you mean?” I asked, my stomach dropping with nervousness.
“Where do we go from here?”
All I could do was stare at him blankly, shaking my head softly as anger rose like a wave within me. “I don’t really know what you’re asking right now, Calum.”
The room was too quiet, I could hear my own pulse and each pull of air into my lungs.
“I came back to apologize for the way I left things between us. I didn’t exactly expect to find out I had a son. Not going to lie, that’s a bit of a shock, and I’m trying to process that.” He laughed, almost bitterly.
“Take your time,” I said dryly. He shot me a look, his nostrils flaring slightly. He was angry—at me, at himself, at it all. I reacted to the fire in his eyes, my stomach clenched with white-hot desire—misplaced desire, I told myself.
Taking a stabilizing breath, I ignored it, pressing it back down, deep inside, where it needed to stay.
Calum turned, pacing away from me, gracing me with his muscular back as he pushed his fingers through his hair with aggravation. Pivoting, he confronted me again.
“What does he know about me?” he asked, swallowing thickly, eyes sweeping over my face as if he was trying to see into the years he’d missed. The guilt twisted in my stomach.
The thought that he might be mad—might hate me—for not trying harder to reach out to him struck me. I closed my eyes, needing the respite from his heavy, penetrating gaze. When I opened them again, I focused on his collarbone as he moved closer. He stopped, leaving a foot of space between us.
“I told him your name was Cal, and that you travelled a lot for work.” I kept my gaze affixed to his collarbone. The breaths tumbling from my lungs were shallow, and tears burned behind my lids.
When Asher was younger, I’d tell him the story of how I met his father and how we fell in love. I altered the ending and told him his job required him to spend years travelling. In a way, it was true.
The story would comfort Asher, and he’d drift off to sleep with positive thoughts of a father he’d never known, a man I’d once loved so desperately. I’d only ever wanted to share the good with my son.
Calum exhaled heavily, and I felt the warmth of his breath on my lips, stirring old familiar feelings. I licked my lips, brow creasing as I forced myself to take a step back. The closer I was to him, the harder it was to think.
He nodded, watching me with eyes that seemed to miss nothing. I was trapped in his gaze. “Can I meet him?”
I bit my lip, my brows creasing as I deliberated. I had no idea what Calum’s plans were, but I doubt they included sticking around. I didn’t want to have Asher growing attached to someone he’d only see once every decade or so.
But Calum had a right to know him, and more importantly—Asher had a right to know his father, however frequently he’d get to see him. I couldn’t stand in the way of that.
Pain flickered through his irises at my hesitation, but he nodded with a resigned understanding.
He went to move toward the door, but my hand shot out to grasp his bicep to still him. I swallowed hard; my throat impossibly dry. “Calum, wait—”
I couldn’t remember the rest of what I was going to say, not with his eyes burning and flickering the way they were. All too easily, I was transported to another time and place; a time before the hurt and a place before the desertion.
“I do want you to meet him, to know him,” I said, finally finding my voice. Realizing I was still clenching his bicep, I dropped my hand. “But Asher is smart and very, very perceptive. All I’ve given him is your name, and the moment he hears it…he will know exactly who you are.”
“That’s kind of the point of an introduction, no?” Calum retorted. One brow arched in angry protest.
“You need to be prepared for what that means,” I said, my eyes narrowing, conveying exactly how serious I was. “He’s going to want to spend time with you, and he will probably have a lot of questions for you.”
And me, I thought.
He nodded slowly as he considered my words. “Okay,” he swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the motion.
“It just…it might be a lot for him to handle all at once,” I said as diplomatically as I could. “Right now, I mean.”
“Tell me about it,” he said dryly. Still, I knew he understood, and I relaxed.
“Why don’t you come over for dinner Saturday night?” I suggested. It’d give me a couple of days to talk to Asher, prepare him a little bit, and prepare myself.
“Ya?” The corner of his lip tugged up in the boyish half grin that first drew me to him. My afflicted heart thudded frantically in my chest; the beat as familiar as it was old.
“Yes,” I repeated, trying to keep my expression neutral, fighting against the hope that bloomed suddenly and unwelcomely in my chest. It was completely maddening, how he still made me want to smile.
“Okay, I’ll be there.” I watched as his hand reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone.
“My number is still the same,” I told him before he could ask, my forced smile slipping a little at the stricken look in his eyes when he glanced back at me. “I need to get back to work,” I added, chewing on my bottom lip.
Calum nodded, sliding his phone back into his pocket and following me as I walked briskly to the door, holding it open for the both of us. We walked silently through the store.
In the time we’d been gone, a small crowd had gathered in the bookstore, made up of mostly local teenage girls.
Asher still sat in the café with Nik, his unwaverin
g gaze locked on the both of us, tracing our movements as I nervously walked Calum toward the doors.
He hesitated, his steps faltering when Asher’s inquisitive eyes focused solely on him. Giving him a slight nod, Calum turned to me, his expression impassive but his eyes swirling with emotion.
“Saturday night. Okay?” I reminded him, sending a pointed look to the crowd of teenagers that had gathered in the science fiction section—conveniently close to where we were standing.
Calum briefly acknowledged the gathering crowd and nodded, his jaw ticking with restraint. Glancing once more at our son, he returned his focus to me. His gaze lingered for a touch longer than polite before he strolled out the door.
|
Harper
The entire drive home, my eyes kept going to the rear-view mirror to look at Asher. He’d been unusually quiet ever since I’d emerged from the back room with Calum. Although he’d scarcely said a word, I could almost hear the wheels turning in his head.
“Who was that, Mom?”
“Hmm?” I asked distractedly, my eyes locking on his through the mirror.
“The man with the tattoos...the one you were talking to earlier.”
I drew in a slow breath, putting my indicator on to turn onto our street. “It was an old friend of mine.”
“Oh.” Asher was silent for a beat. “What’s his name?”
I paused, drawing out the silence until I’d pulled into the driveway of our house. My tires crunched against the gravel as I parked near the back porch. “Calum Jacobs.”
Asher nodded, his lips pursing thoughtfully. “How come I’ve never met him before?” When my son tilted his head, I knew he’d figured it out for himself—or at least suspected it.
“I haven’t seen him in a very long time,” I replied, pulling my key out of the ignition. I reached over to grab my purse and laptop bag from the passenger seat while he unbuckled his seat belt and opened his door, waiting in the gravel driveway.
I stepped out, closing my door behind me. “How long?” he asked.
“Almost nine years,” I answered.
Off Beat (Forgotten Flounders Series Book 1) Page 6