Chapter 16 – A Name for the Ache

Eleanor had always thought loneliness was loud.

That it was something that clattered inside her ribcage, something that screamed in empty rooms.

But in Braemar, she was learning that loneliness could be quiet too. That it could slip between the cracks, gentle but unrelenting, like water wearing away at stone.

She had never let herself belong anywhere before.

Now, she wasn't sure if she knew how.

"You ever think about going back?" Callum asked one night, his voice low in the flickering firelight.

Eleanor sat across from him, tracing patterns into the wooden table with her fingertips. "To London?"

He nodded.

She exhaled slowly. "I don't know."

That wasn't entirely true.

She did know.

She knew that London was still there, waiting. That the life she had left behind—the name, the expectations, the weight of all of it—hadn't disappeared just because she had.

But the thought of returning felt like closing a door she hadn't meant to open in the first place.

Callum watched her for a long moment before speaking. "You don't have to know right now."

That was the thing about him.

He never demanded answers.

He just let her sit with the questions.