Page 87 of What Hurts Us

“I cut grass. Scrubbed graffiti. Did the grunt work of hauling fold-up chairs and tables for Ladies Auxiliary fundraisers. Did everything I had to do to pay my restitution. And in return, the town saved me. They gave me a place. Saw to it that I stayed out of trouble. Gran never had to worry about me leaving her house. Every resident in the town limits kept an eye on me.”

He pressed his lips to my temple. “Did you know that Estelle Gould is a retired school teacher? She helped me get settled at Falls Creek High and made sure my grades stayed out of the toilet. Grady Benson gave me a summer job at the hardware store. It let me squirrel away a little money of my own. I had an appetite bigger than Gran’s bank account. Twice a week, we’d have people bringing casseroles, baked goods, and extra produce from their gardens. One winter, the McManns gave us half a cow out of the livestock they sent to slaughter.”

I tipped my head back on his shoulder. “Did your parents visit? Did they help at all?”

He scoffed. “No. In their eyes, Gran took a problem off their hands, and they got to go back to their perfect little lives. My mom had more kids. I don’t even know how many half-siblings I have now. I don’t talk to her. My dad actually showed up to my high school graduation, but he left before I walked across the stage. One of his kids had a birthday party to go to.”

“Zahreh mar,” I muttered under my breath.

“By the time I was eighteen, it didn’t matter to me anymore. I stopped trying to call them. Stop trying to visit. Stopped caring that holidays were just Gran and me. I went to community college, you know. During my first semester, Gran had me working with Clarence Wilkins, the old police chief, at a Ladies Auxiliary fundraiser. They were raising money for new bulletproof vests for the police department. He and I hit it off, so he started letting me shadow the department. I did grunt work—making coffee, taking out the trash, and cleaning the break room. But I liked it. I mentioned to him that I thought it’d be cool to be a cop, but with my record, making it into the police academy was a long shot at best.”

I tipped my head back and pressed my lips to the edge of his jaw. “How’d you get in?”

He smiled. “Chief Wilkins held a town-wide meeting. The Ladies Auxiliary passed out paper, pens, envelopes, and stamps and told everyone to write a letter of recommendation. No one was allowed to leave until they turned in their letter. They had deputies stationed at all the exits.”

I laughed. “You’re lying.”

Cal chuckled. “I shit you not, honey.” He pecked the tip of my nose. “I had over five hundred letters sent in on my behalf.” His tone turned solemn. “I owe them everything. They gave me a home, a family, and a job. They gave me a place to belong when I had nothing to give them in return. This town… They’re a menace to society. A danger to themselves and others. Sometimes I think the cows on the McMann farm have more common sense than the human population put together. But I owe everyone here a bigger debt than I ever owed the court. And I’ll have to spend every moment I have left on earth repaying it.”

I turned in his lap, straddling his hips. “And you think that means you can’t be happy too?” I cupped his face, memorizing the way his stubble scratched my palms. “Cal, they did that for you because they love you. Not because they expected you to repay them or expected you to treat the rest of your life as some kind of purgatory.” I was angry. Angry that he couldn’t see just how twisted his idea of how the town perceived him was.

He saw himself as a burden.

But Callum Fletcher wasn’t a burden. He was beloved. He was a pinnacle in the community.

“Cal,” I whispered as I kissed his forehead. Strong hands skated up my thighs, slipping under the hem of my nightie. “I have to tell you something. Something Gran told me on the way to the hospital.”

He rested his temple on my chest, having finally laid his burden down. I couldn’t imagine living in a town where you never felt good enough. Where you believed there was an expectation of eternal servitude.

His cock was thick between my legs, but I made no move to tease him. “Baby, your Gran, the Ladies Auxiliary—they started the date auctionfor you.”

Thick brows drew in, confused. “What?”

“On the way to the hospital, Gran told me that the Ladies Auxiliary started the date auction fundraiser to giveyoua reason to go on dates.” Laughing, I added, “Even if they were with eighty-year-old librarians. They figured that if they couldn’t get you to ask someone out, they’d get the suitors to come to you. Apparently, after the first year they did it, the concept was so successful that they couldn’tnotkeep doing it.” I braced my arms against his shoulders and looked him dead in the eye. “Cal,” my tone was gentle. “Don’t you see it? That ridiculous fundraiser made you get out of your rut. It made you step outside of your comfort zone simply because you were trying to avoid stepping out of your comfort zone.”

I never expected him to smile, much less laugh. But he did. Callum shook his head, chest rumbling as he chuckled in disbelief.

“Goddammit. Gran’s plan worked. Maybe not how she expected it… Hell, she probably never thought I’d fake an engagement to get out of that damn date auction.” He pressed his forehead to mine, calloused fingers scraping along my hips. “Probably never thought I’d find a woman like you. Someone sweet and warm. Healing. Sustaining.” He slanted his mouth to mine and drew me into the kiss. It was deep and slow. I felt the presence of it in my soul. “I found honey. Myasalam.”

Three words were on the tip of my tongue. Three words that I knew would not be reciprocated. It was one of the things that hurt: loving someone and knowing they didn’t love you back.

But holding back love rather than freely giving it without the expectation of reciprocity is painful, too.

“I love you.” Tears pricked at the back of my eyes. “I love you, not because of anything that you’ve done for me, but because you are worthy of it regardless. You don’t realize it, but you have the greatest capacity to love that I’ve ever seen. You’re calm and patient. You serve sacrificially. It’s beautiful, and it’s a damn shame that all this time, you look at it as a penalty. As a means to some eternal restitution.” Bloodshot eyes met mine. I held his strong jaw in my hands. “And I think you love me, too. I feel it in my bones.”

His lips moved, but no words were formed. The wind was knocked out of me as thick arms clung to me with the desperation of a prisoner tasting freedom. Deep gasps echoed from his lungs as he clutched me against his chest, face buried in my shoulder.

“Tell me again?” he whispered in a tremulous breath. His eyes were glassy. “Please… Please, honey.”

“I love you, Callum Fletcher.” I kissed him hard and breathless. “Dooset Daaram, Eshgham.”

“Again,” he begged in a breath. “Please.

“I love you,” I whispered as tears streamed down both of our faces. Over and over, I told him I loved him. I was determined to say it until he believed it. Until he felt it. Until he knew it in his soul, too.

“Stay,” Callum said, stronger this time as he rolled me onto my back and braced those tattooed arms on either side of my head. “Tonight. Tomorrow.” He pushed the black satin slip that grazed my thighs up to my chest. I lifted my arms, allowing him to raise it over my head. “Stay. I want every day with you.” The shackles on his heart fell to the ground as he pressed his lips to mine. “Every day.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” I whispered reverently as I reached up and touched his face. The man hovering above me was broken, but breaking is often the first step in healing. I skated my hands up and down the taut muscles on his arms.

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