Page 87 of His Red Carnation

I hesitated, my thumb hovering over the screen before I finally answered.

“Hey, Sloane,” his voice came through, softer than usual, almost cautious. “I’m glad you answered. I just…I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

There was a pause, the weight of his words hanging between us. After everything that had happened, after everything he had done, he was apologizing. Part of me wanted to tell him it was too late, that it didn’t change anything. But another part of me—the part that still wanted to hold on to the idea of him—couldn’t let go that easily.

“I’m not asking you to forgive me,” he continued, sensing my silence. “I just wanted you to know that I’m sorry. For everything.”

I swallowed hard, unsure of what to say. I wasn’t ready to accept his apology, not yet. Maybe not ever. But I couldn’t dismiss it, either. At least not completely.

“Okay,” I said finally, my voice quiet and guarded. “I hear you.”

I didn’t offer more, and he didn’t push. The call ended, leaving things unresolved, like so much between us.

I stared at my phone for a few moments after the call ended, the weight of it still pressing down on me. The apology lingered, but it wasn’t enough to wash away everything that had happened. I wasn’t sure it ever would be.

Callan sensed the shift in my mood because as he walked in our room, his eyes were soft with concern. Without a word, he sat beside me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and pulling me close. I leaned into him, grateful for the quiet comfort that only he could give.

“You okay, baby?” he asked softly, his voice low and soothing.

I nodded, though the knot in my chest told a different story. “It was my dad,” I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper. “He apologized…for everything.”

Callan stayed silent at first, pulling me a little closer. “How do you feel about that?”

I sighed and smiled. He was so used to talking about his feelings now, and I was proud of him. I rested my head against his chest and said, “I don’t know. I’m not ready to accept it yet.”

“That’s okay,” he said gently. “You don’t have to be.”

We sat there for a few moments, the silence between us comfortable, and I felt the tension slowly start to ease. Callan always had a way of making me feel like everything would be alright, even when my mind was a mess.

“Come on, baby,” he whispered after a while, pressing a soft kiss to the top of my head. “Let’s go to bed.”

I let him lead me to the bedroom, his hand warm and steady in mine. The weight of the day, of the call, started to slip away as I curled up next to him. In his arms, the weight on my chest began to lift, and I felt like I could finally breathe again. Whatever came next, I knew I had the strength to face it. With Callan by my side, the burden would always feel a little lighter.

40

Callan

The warm sun heated my skin as I lounged on a beach chair beside Sloane, the soft crash of waves filling the air. Fiji was fucking perfect, but being next to Sloane made it even better. I glanced over at her, lying on her stomach on a matching chair, her eyes closed, a faint smile curving her lips. She looked at peace, and knowing I had a part in that made my heart swell.

Sloane had changed me in ways I didn’t even realize at first. It wasn’t just about love—it was about everything. She taught me how to open up, to be vulnerable, to let someone in completely. She’d shown me that even though she was twenty years younger, she had a wisdom that sometimes made me forget the age gap altogether. In her own way, she’d become my greatest teacher, even if she didn’t know it.

I often forgot how much younger she was, because when we were together, it didn’t matter. She challenged me and made me a better version of myself. For the first time in a long time, I feltworthy. Worthy of love, of happiness—things I’d pushed away for so long, thinking I didn’t deserve them. But with Sloane, I knew I was lucky. And loved.Sofucking loved.

She stirred beside me, stretching slightly before her eyes fluttered open. She caught me looking, and that familiar smile spread across her face. “What?” she asked, her voice soft and teasing.

“Nothing,” I said, grinning. “Just thinking about how fucking lucky I am.”

Her smile widened, and she reached for my hand, her touch grounding me in this moment—this perfect moment where everything felt right.

“Come on,” I said, standing up and pulling her with me. “Let’s sit by the water.”

We walked to the edge of the shore, settling in the warm sand, the gentle waves lapping at our feet. We dug our toes into the sand, feeling the soft grains beneath us. The ocean stretched endlessly before us, and for the first time in a long time, I wasn’t thinking about the past or what could go wrong.

I was just here, with her. My perfect fucking girl. And that was all I needed.

41

Epilogue

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