“You’re dreaming! Oh my god, you are actually delusional. I don’t want you.” I can’t believe he even thinks that. He must have developed a pretty decent drug habit back in New York and be high as fuck right now to have even contemplated that.
Callan looks down at me, his eyes sparking with fury and something far more frightening. “Then why is your whole body shaking right now? Why can I feel your heart hammering in your chest? And don’t tell me it’s because you’re angry. Don’t fucking lie to me anymore.”
I look down at myself and see that he’s right. Callan’s still holding onto me, but he’s barely applying pressure anymore. My hands are trembling like crazy, along with my arms and legs, and the rest of me too. I feel like I can’t catch a damn breath.
“Tell me what you’re feeling. Right now. What are you feeling, Coralie?”
“I’m—I’m just—” I can’t even think straight. It’s really unfair of him to be doing this to me. “I don’t want to—”
“I know you don’t want to do this. I’m not an idiot. But I’m done feeling like shit, okay? And I’m done wondering where the both of us would be if we just gave in and we were vulnerable for just five fucking seconds. So admit it. Just tell me what you’re feeling.”
I’m rethinking that knee to the balls right now. I imagine how satisfying the swift upward motion would feel when Callan sinks like a stone to his bedroom floor. Only, when I imagine it, it doesn’t feel satisfying at all. It feels unjustified and reckless, not to mention pointless. Ever since I left Port Royal, hardening my heart, becoming strong, coping with everything that went down here, has been my sole focus. I haven’t had time for anything else. Right now, I’m losing it; Callan is taking a wrecking ball to the high brick wall I’ve spent so long constructing, and it feels like it’s all about to come crashing down.
“I feel…lost,” I whisper. “I hurt. I hurt so much.” I look up into the face of the man who stole my heart so long ago, and I know without a doubt that I’m still deeply in love with him. It’s a crippling realization—one I’ve been denying for so long. Callan’s expression is fierce, protective and possessive all at once. How can he feel this way after so long? How can he still want to love me? Or even be near me after everything we both put each other through?
“I hurt, too,” he says quietly. “But you have the ability to make that hurt stop, bluebird. Just like I can take your pain away. Every last scrap of it. I won’t rest until the past is dead and buried and you’re happy, if you let me. Please. Please…please just let me.”
If I were even vaguely sane right now, I’d say no and bolt out of the house before he could stop me. It would be the safest, smartest thing for me to do. And yet, I don’t want to. I’m so sick of trying so hard. I’m so sick of fighting against every wish and desire I have. I’m so sick of pretending I’m not still completely lost to this man, and I’m so damn sick of being without him. Slowly, filled with terror and relief, I let my body fall slack against him. With my forehead resting against the broad span of his chest, I let out a deep sigh that feel like it comes from the very depths of my soul.
“I don’t know how to let you,” I whisper. “Not anymore.” I almost lock up again when Callan lets go of my wrists. His hands rise slowly, until he’s cupping my face in his palms. He doesn’t make me look at him. He lets me lean into him, and the warmth from his hands grounds me, brings me back to many other places and times where he did the same thing. It’s almost as if I can feel the love pouring out of him and into my body, and it strikes me that it’s a reprieve I don’t deserve.
“It’s easy.” My temple burns where Callan places his mouth against my skin. His lips graze against me as he talks low and soft. “Just let go. Stop fighting. Stop working so hard to hate me. Hating me feels safe, I know, but loving me would be so much better. How can anything terrible come from something so beautiful? The way I love you feels beautiful to me, bluebird. It doesn’t make me scared. It doesn’t make me angry, or make me feel cheated. Loving you is just part of what makes me who I am. I knew that the moment I met you, and you did, too.”
I close my eyes. He makes it sound so easy, like being with him would be as simple as breathing, but how can it be? I need to tell him that I have to go home. I need to tell him that I’m serious, that I do really want him to leave Port Royal, for my sake. How, though? I feel like I’m home for the first time in years. Tiny electrical sparks of panic bite at me when I think about him letting me go.
“I’m going to kiss you soon, bluebird,” Callan whispers into my hair. “And if you don’t stop me, I’m going to touch you. I’m going to take your clothes from your body and I’m going to kiss every single inch of you. I want to feel you melt for me. I want to feel your body sing for me. I don’t expect to fuck you. I won’t be inside you. I’ll leave all of my clothes on if that makes you feel better. I just need to hold you, and feel your skin under my hands.”