Page 137 of The Havenport Collection

Callum

T his had been one of the most incredible nights of my life, and I didn’t want it to end. Violet and I finally got a full night together, and we were so excited that neither of us could sleep.

We were curled up on my couch, watching the harbor and eating Sour Patch Kids at three a.m. A whole night with Violet felt like some kind of dream, a special occasion, so neither of us could sleep.

We alternated having sex with snacks, YouTube cooking videos, and watching the ocean from the giant floor-to-ceiling windows in my condo.

We talked about anything and everything. She told me about her travels and the challenges of parenting. We reminisced about our childhoods in Havenport and shared some laughs.

I loved talking to Violet. She actually listened, never interrupted, and considered everything I said. She didn’t try to fix my problems or tell me what to do, instead she just sat with me and listened.

I didn’t have to be self-conscious around her.

I didn’t have to police what I said or how I reacted.

I was free to be myself, and it felt good.

I had spent my entire life trying to be perfect.

Hiding my anxiety and never letting anyone in.

I had already shared more with her than anyone else in my life.

But I was afraid to take the next step. What would she do if she knew why I stood her up in high school?

Violet was curled up on the couch wearing only one of my T-shirts, one freckled calf draped across my lap. Her hair was wild and spilling over the back of the couch, and I was struck by just how deeply I was in love with her.

I knew I had to do it. I knew that I had to tell her everything. If I wanted this to work—and I wanted that more than anything—then I had to do it. I had talked it over in therapy, and I knew it was the right thing. But no matter how much I tried, I couldn’t get the words out.

I stroked her calf gently as she stared out the window, reclined on my deep couch. I steeled myself. This was the right moment. I knew it.

I shifted and sat up straight. “I owe you an explanation.” I knew I was in love with her, and we couldn’t take things to the next level without exorcising our high school demons.

She cocked her head and wrapped her arms around her knees.

She looked so irresistible, I almost abandoned this stupid idea about being honest and forthright in favor of grabbing her and kissing her.

But I couldn’t hide behind our sexual chemistry if I wanted this to go the distance.

I had to make myself vulnerable and tell her the truth.

Violet scooted closer to me on the couch and rested her head on my shoulder. We sat there, still and silent for several minutes. But feeling her touch and breathing in her scent comforted me and made me feel less alone.

I began to unpack one of the most painful and terrifying nights of my life.

“Violet, I need to tell you some things. And I am so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

She squeezed my hand. Her presence felt so good, so right.

“I want to explain what happened back in high school.”

“Callum, it was twenty years ago. I’ve forgiven you. We don’t have to rehash our teenage drama.”

I sat back, putting some distance between us. “I appreciate that, but I haven’t forgiven myself. And that’s why I need to tell you.”

She nodded quietly and looked up with those big brown eyes.

“I guess I always wondered what happened. We were together for a few months and then you stood me up, didn’t even call me, and then broke up with me the next week.

I was confused and hurt, but I’m over it now. We’re adults, not children, Cal.”

Although Violet claimed to live in the moment, I knew she had a tendency to dwell on these things. So I couldn’t brush this aside and never talk about it again. I needed to do this. I needed her to understand so we could officially put high school behind us.

“The day of the Homecoming Dance, I had my first panic attack. I had always been a high-strung, anxious child. I guess it was part of being the oldest, always wanting to take care of everyone, and feeling the weight of responsibility on my shoulders. Around sophomore year in high school, things started to get worse, and some days it felt impossible to get up and be Callum Quinn. The expectations were too high; the pressure was too crushing.”

She held my hand and nodded, not saying a word. She didn’t have to. I knew I had her full support.

“It had been a super busy day. I had been up early to work out and then had a soccer game where we lost and hurt our chances for the playoffs. I didn’t play well and was beating myself up about it.

Then I had to head home, do homework, and work on my Eagle Scout requirements.

” I remembered it all so clearly. My heart clenched for my sixteen-year-old self.

I was doing way too much and putting so much pressure on myself.

“I decided to squeeze in a PSAT practice test before I had to shower and get ready for the dance. My mom brought me up some food since I hadn’t even taken time to eat that day. ”

I got up and started pacing around my darkened living room. “I bombed the practice test and then realized I had to get ready to go to the dance with you. And I was so looking forward to it. You were this incredible bright spot in my life, and I was so excited to be with you.”

She gave me a sad smile and pulled her knees up.

“And then everything just started to spiral. I wasn’t smart enough. I didn’t work hard enough. I was going to disappoint my parents, my brothers, my community. And you. I worried that you wouldn’t want to be my girlfriend if I was a loser.”

She gasped, and I kept going. “And then it just got worse. Soon, my hands and feet started tingling, and I couldn’t breathe.

My vision got splotchy, and my heart raced.

Declan found me on the floor of the bathroom, hyperventilating.

” As I think back on that day, I remember that I’d thought I was dying.

I thought my life was over. And although I would never admit it out loud, part of me was relieved at the thought of not having to keep going.

“My parents called an ambulance and took me to the ER. They thought something was wrong with my heart, and they transferred me to Children’s Hospital in Boston. We were there for two days while they gave me every possible test. There was nothing physically wrong. I had experienced a panic attack.”

“Oh, Callum.” She got off the couch and wrapped her arms around me, and we stood there for a few minutes, just breathing and holding one another. It felt amazing and gave me the courage to keep talking.

“I was so ashamed. My parents spent so much time and money trying to figure out what was wrong with me, and it was just my stupid, broken brain. The embarrassment was crippling. I was so ashamed, Violet. I didn’t want to hurt you.

But at sixteen years old, I lacked the emotional capacity to explain this all to you.

To be honest about my shortcomings. It seemed better just to break up and focus my energies on getting better. ”

Her face was buried in my chest. “I am so sorry this happened to you.”

“I am so sorry I hurt you.”

She gathered my face in her hands. “Callum Quinn, you didn’t hurt me. You bruised my teenaged ego, for sure, but I wish you had told me. I wouldn’t have cared about the stupid dance.”

“I know. But I couldn’t face it. It was bad enough my parents looked at me differently.

The last thing I wanted was my girl to think I was crazy.

” What I didn’t say was that I had spent the last twenty years trying to hide this from everyone.

That I still wasn’t resilient enough to face it and be honest with the people I loved.

“Thank you for telling me. I forgive you. I feel honored you shared this with me. It must have been such a dark time for you.”

I nodded. “It was. I couldn’t function. Everything got so hard. It took everything I had to get up and go to school. To go to practice, to get up every day and be Callum Fucking Quinn.

“But I got better at hiding it. That’s when it started—the pretending. I realized that everyone wanted perfect Callum. No one wanted the anxious, messed-up version, so I learned to hide him away and play the role everyone expected me to.”

She gazed up at me in the moonlight and cupped my cheek. “I don’t want you to ever feel like you have to pretend for me. I fell in love with the real Callum, and he’s the only man I want.”

Her words warmed me from the inside out, slowly putting some of my broken pieces back together. I held her tight.

“But that’s just it. The fucked-up thing about anxiety is that it doesn’t just hurt you, it hurts the people you love. I don’t want to hurt you again or hurt the boys. I can’t do that. I couldn’t live with myself.”

“I trust you. I know you won’t hurt us.”

“I fight this every day of my life. And I’ve been losing this battle for the last twenty years.”

She stepped back, and her eyes were fiery. “Losing? You can’t seriously look me in the eyes and say that.”

I stood, unable to respond.

She pointed a finger at me. “This, right here, is your problem, Cal. You treat yourself like shit. You hide it behind a veneer of success and handsomeness, but you are absolutely brutal to yourself. Don’t talk about the man I’m in love with like that.”

She stood there, arms crossed, hair messy and unkempt, while my oversized T-shirt clung to her shapely thighs. Her eyes shot fire in my direction, and I felt the embrace of her protective mama-bear instincts. Her declaration hung in the air between us as I worked up the courage to say it back.

“You are not weak. Doing what you do? Living with this every day and fighting it for yourself and those you love? That is the opposite of weak. That is true strength. I think you are strong and powerful. You make me feel safe and secure.”

She pushed me down so that I was sitting on the couch. She stood in front of me, looking like a wild, protective goddess.

“I am here to help you and support you. Whatever you need, I’m here. But one thing I will never be is disgusted. I am impressed by you. You aren’t some golden boy for whom everything is easy. You struggle and strive, and fuck, that is admirable, not to mention hot.”

“Thank you. I love you too, Violet. Thank you for loving me, faults and all.”

A beautiful smile spread across her face. “You’re not going to chase me away that easily, Cal. If anything, I am more attracted to you than ever.” She climbed onto my lap, straddling me. The hem of my T-shirt inched farther up her thighs.

“Oh, really?”

She smirked. “Yes. Honesty is fucking hot.” She kissed my neck.

“Intimacy?” She kissed the other side. “Smoking.”

She writhed on top of me, lighting up every cell of my body with need.

“And well, emotional vulnerability?” She leaned back, peeling the T-shirt off and giving me a moonlit view of her sexy curves. “It melts my panties off.”

I kissed her, a crushing, possessive kiss. I was in love with Violet, and she was in love with me. This woman faced down my demons and didn’t care. She didn’t see me as broken; she saw me as strong, capable, and sexy.

As our bodies came together, I felt our connection, our intimacy, grow and expand. We clung to each other as if the last few hours had not been enough. And it hadn’t been. A lifetime wouldn’t be enough time with this incredible woman.