Chapter 19 – The Edge of a Goodbye

She didn't tell Callum right away.

Because saying it out loud would make it real.

Instead, she carried the weight of the letter with her for days, tucking it into the corners of her mind, pretending it wasn't pressing against her ribs every time she breathed.

But Callum wasn't an idiot.

He noticed the way she hesitated more, the way her laughter was a little softer, like she was trying to hold onto something before it slipped away.

And then, one evening, as they sat by the fire, he finally asked.

"You're leaving, aren't you?"

Eleanor's fingers stilled against the rim of her tea cup.

She didn't say yes.

She didn't have to.

Callum exhaled through his nose, shaking his head slightly. "Right. Should've figured."

"It's not—" Eleanor swallowed. "It's not what I want."

"Then don't."

"It's not that simple."

Callum scoffed. "It is, actually. You stay. That's all it takes."

Eleanor wished it were that easy.

She wished she could wrap herself in Braemar, in the sound of the river, in the warmth of this tiny, stupid village that had somehow become home.

But she wasn't made for staying.

And Callum—he deserved someone who could.

She pressed her lips together. "I don't want you to wait for me."

Callum's jaw clenched. He ran a hand through his hair, looking away.

"Did you ever think," he said quietly, "that maybe I'm not waiting? Maybe I just want you here."

Eleanor didn't know how to answer that.

So she didn't.