Callan had gone for three weeks and two days. He had stayed away from her since the last time, not talking to her, not responding to her greetings until he travelled to France to meet with the real estate companies who were in charge of the new business he planned to venture into.
Orla was well aware of the reason her husband was distant and it broke her heart into shreds.
She had been all alone by herself, and Betty was getting sick again. She fed her the last piece of steak in her hand and watched her until she fell asleep in her arms.
The house was empty without Callan. His absence made her life desolate and she loathed that. Even though he didn't talk to her when he was at home, his presence in the house inexplicably encrusted her and she always yearned for it.
She picked up her phone to call Callan with the number she had gotten from David a week after he travelled, but she couldn't bring herself to dial the number even though she so badly wanted to.
She had no idea how long he would be gone and when he was coming back and that hurt her even more than when he rejected her.
Sometimes, It hurt so bad that Callan didn't think highly of her, he didn't respect her enough to tell her that he'd been away for weeks. She was his wife but he didn't treat her as such.
The beeping sound her phone produced jolted her out of her reverie, and she hoped as she reached for the phone, prayed that it would be Callan who was calling. They didn't communicate much yet she dreadfully missed him.
She picked up the phone and dismay pierced her insides to see that Liam was the one calling.
He called to check on her, to know if she was doing well and if she was coping without Callan.
Orla wasn't doing well without Callan. She really wasn't, but she lied. She didn't want Liam around. He was good to her, but she didn't need his company now.
After the call, she resumed back to fretting about Callan and there she drifted to sleep on the divan, hands snaked around Betty.
-
-DREAM-
"You two should stay here. I will go get your juice, okay?" She kissed their cheeks, running her fingers through their curly hair.
Orla giggled, grabbing her sister's hands.
"Stay right here and don't go beyond this side, okay?" She instructed again and they both nodded.
When their sister was away from them, the little girl turned to Orla and smiled sheepishly. "Will you tell her if I step forward?"
Orla twinkled her eyes. "No, I won't but on't do that." She smiled innocently, her huge eyes blinking as she stared at her sister who looked just like her except for the difference in hair colour. "Sophia doesn't like it when you disobey her," she whined, folding her arms around her chest.
"Orla, I will step forward, but you will hold me back. Will you do that?" The little girl smiled, staring at her sister. She trusted that she would hold her back, she always did. She was the same as her, they always did things for each other.
"No, don't do that! If you do, I will tell Sophia about it." Orla sounded mad. She was little, so little yet her voice sounded stern. She hated it when her sister disobeyed their elder sisters, and this time she was ready to tell on her if she moved a step.
"Orla," she smiled again, melting her sister's heart.
"Remember I didn't tell on you when you gave your hairband to Aria in school."
Orla said nothing, she watched as her sister slowly moved backwards, taking her legs as if she could barely walk.
"Mia wants to buy vanilla ice cream for me, I will share it with you if you don't tell her about this." Her legs were close to the coping and she was laughing now.
Orla was enticed by her sister's offer, she loved ice cream anyway and vanilla was her favourite just like they were for Mia. "Okay, just don't go into the water. Mom will find out if you get wet and she will be mad at us."
"I…" She slipped, falling right into the pool with a heavy thud. "Orla!" Were her last words as ripples formed on the surface of the water when her tiny weight dropped down. She floated along the tide of the water.
Orla was terrified. With her little brain she screamed, turning back to run into the house to call one of their sisters but one appeared right before she did. But it wasn't Sophia who had left them, she was another but it didn't matter, she could help.
"She," Orla pointed at the almost lifeless body that was floating on the water. "She fell…" Tears dropped down her cheeks. She was young, way too young to even process what was going on around her. What could a six-year-old brain process?
Her eyes trailed Orla's tiny fingers that were pointing into the pool. With fear in her mind, she yelled. "Orla, what have you done to your sister?"
-REALITY-
The words continuously reverberated in her ears until she jerked back to life. Panic squeezed her, and goosebumps formed all over her skin. It was the same nightmare, same girl, same dress and a different event again.
She breathed hard, clutching Betty onto her body. Her heart raced erratically, it was still vague to her, unclear and guilt seeped through her again.
She sobbed, looking around to see if someone would walk into the living room and save her. If someone would hold her the way Callan did the last time she was troubled, but she saw no one.
No one was close, no one showed up for her. She burst into uncontrollable tears. But just when she thought she was alone, the door pulled open to that scent she had recognized even without seeing his face and suddenly, it didn't matter if he was an asshole for leaving for weeks without letting her know.
Her hormones acted too fast before she could decide, she leapt out of the couch and ran into his arms.
Surprisingly, he caught her, fixing her within his embrace and wrapping his arms around her waist. He had missed her so much. He regretted being a jerk the last time and he wanted to make up for it.
"Are you alright?" He asked in a soft voice.
Orla shook her head, hot tears pouring down her cheeks.
"Callan, I am not alright." She confessed, she really wasn't alright.
He gently patted her back, holding her for a long time and never letting go.
He knew she needed him, and he was ready to be with her, hold her until she felt better. If only that would make up for what he did to her that night he rejected her.
She had been on his mind the whole time he was in France and he wanted to see her again. He left before the day scheduled for the meeting elapsed.
He didn't know why he missed her that much, but having her in his arms quenched that hunger he felt throughout his stay in France.
It didn't matter what it was, holding her in his arms felt so good he didn't want to let go.