Page 61 of Starrily
“I have something for you.” Simon leaned to the side and pulled a flat white box from underneath the remaining blanket. It was bound with a simple satin ribbon; Callie undid the bow and opened it.
A smooth stream of dark silk spilled onto her arms. A shawl, painted by hand, in shades of blue and purple, sprinkled with tiny planets and galaxies.
“It’s not meant to replace the one I lost you,” Simon said. “It had special meaning to you, and I won’t overwrite that. I just wanted to give you something back.”
“You …”
“I painted it, as it might be painfully obvious.” He chuckled. “I don’t think I have a future in art …”
“It’s lovely.” She swallowed. What could she even say to such a gift? Such a sentiment? “Thank you.”
“No, I’m the one who should thank you.” He looked at her, the softest smile playing on his lips. “I’ve had an interesting few years. I wouldn’t call it rough, because that’s not the predominant feeling about them, but there have been some struggles.”
“With the company?”
“With myself.” He looked at the ground. “Somewhere along the way, I lost,forgot, a part of me. And I didn’t even realize I’d been missing it until I met you.” He laughed. “I know that sounds cheesy. But there are things I used to love and forgot about them—and when I started working with you, I remembered that love anew.”
“Astronomy,” she remembered. “You suddenly knew things I didn’t think you would.”
He nodded. “Some, I remembered on my own. Others, I started studying again.”
Strange that he’d forget the things he used to love. Maybe he just got too busy with the company? Or did his accident have something to do with it?
“So that scarf is for you,” he said. “To hopefully not think of me as the man who’s made life worse for you, but as someone whose lifeyoumade better.”
“You didn’t make my life worse.” The words were inadequate to express just how far from the truth his statement was.
“Good. I was …” he let out a short, nervous laugh. “I was hoping for that.”
In the back of her mind, an alarm blared.Don’t get close. Don’t do this to yourself. There’s nothing but suffering in it.
She swallowed a lump in her throat. “I have to go.”
“Wait.”
“The instruments—I have to check for the weather—”
“There isn’t a cloud in the sky. Your telescope is fine.” He shifted on the blanket and gently cupped her face with one hand to make her look at him. “Let me say one more thing.”
“Simon …”
“One more.”
She closed her eyes for a moment and nodded.
“Jessica didn’t have a work emergency. I asked her if I could come here instead. I wanted to because I need to talk with you, and I found no other way, or the right time, to do it.” He took a deep breath and sighed. “I don’t know why you’re running away from this. If it’s my fault, say so. If it’s something yours, and yours alone, and you don’t want to tell me—that’s also fine. But you have to make up your mind. For the sake of both of us.” He caressed her cheek. “Decide, Calliope. You can tell me to leave, and I will. After we return home tomorrow, you never have to see me again. Or you can tell me to stay, but you have to stand behind it. I don’t need to know your secrets, but I need to know how you feel. I need to know that you, too, will stay.”
There were no more hints of a smile, not on his lips nor in his eyes. No more joking, no more teasing; he meant everything he said, and as she stared into his eyes, dark and glittery and magical, like the sky above, Callie realized the big logical flaw in her plan.
She didn’t want to get close to Simon because, in a hypothetical future, she was afraid of losing him. But by pushing him away, she’d already lost him.
Almost. There was one chance left, the last sliver of hope hovering between them.
So, for the first time in twenty years, Calliope Guidry decided to be brave. In half an intake of a breath, she closed the distance between them and kissed him.
At first, Simon must’ve been shocked, because his free hand still hovered over her back, as if he was afraid of touching her. But then he smiled, and of all of his smiles, she loved this one the most, because she could feel it against her lips. She climbed onto his lap, and his hands closed around her waist, while hers held the sides of his face and ruffled his hair.
“Callie,” he whispered before he sought her lips again, slowly pushing in, letting their tastes mingle. His was that of the best dream she’d ever had, of a bright summer day and a warm autumnal night. It was comfort and delight, safety and adventure—it was everything she’d taken out of her life, and he’d brought back.
