Orla knew what he was talking about and that aggravated her annoyance. He didn't deem it fit to talk about his late brother and now he wanted to know about her family.
She chewed the inside of her cheeks and shrugged her shoulders. "We are not close, Callan. I don't feel comfortable telling you about my past."
The response pierced his chest, deeper than a cut. He tried to wave it off with a smile, but Orla glimpsed the mortification in his eyes.
"Will you tell me all about it if we're closer than this?" He asked.
She looked at him, studying him as he studied her. The smile was back on his face and the light in his eyes. She could melt by just staring at him.
"Callan. Everything that happened is in the past now, I don't think we should go over them again." She finally finished off the food on her plate and Callan secretly beamed with satisfaction.
"There are in the past but they left scars behind. Unhealed scars that we want to heal."
She smiled. Placing her hand on her jaw, she looked at him intently and spotted a scar on his wrist. It was small and could easily be unnoticed if proper attention was not given to it.
"Scars?" Her eyes remained on his wrist for a little longer. "What if we have decided to turn the scars into beauty?" Her smile grew bigger and Callan shook his head in disagreement.
"Some scars can never become beautiful. Memories of how we got them will never make them beautiful, Orla."
His eyes became dark, his face void of emotions. Orla saw him jerking backwards from the chair and something about him mesmerized her. Something different about him, something that didn't define the old Callan. Something deeper and dark that she yearned to know about.
"Callan?"
"I like it when you call my name. You make the name suit me well."
That was the same for her. Her name was precise and swift in his mouth. A smile was about to pop out when she remembered how he used to call her Slow Girl. Her anger rose to the highest.
"Why did you stop calling me Slow girl?" She suddenly asked.
"It was something I shouldn't have started, Orla."
He sighed and rose to his feet. Walking closer to her, he sat at the edge of the table and took her hands in his.
“Orla, I am sorry for those times I was ignorant. I could say sorry a zillion times, you know?"
"This," she shook her head, gesturing between them. "This whole thing is sudden and almost unreal, Callan. Why are you being so cool to me?"
"I want you to tell me everything that happened to you the next time I ask you about your family. I want to be closer to you, Orla. Will you let me?" He gently tilted her head to his side and her eyes met his.
He stared lovingly and gingerly, the emotion that burned within her through each second Callan stared at her made her heart throb.
She clasped her hands with his. "Callan."
"Orla." His heart beat softly.
Every moment with her was peaceful and he wanted his peace to last.
He had missed out on being peaceful all these while, he just wanted her back. Her innocent stares, her cute smiles and just the little things she did melt his heart.
"Are you fine?" She saw the redness in his eyes as he clutched his tummy.
"I have an allergy to strawberries."
Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Too many things she didn't know about her husband. Her hands became shaky as she held her husband.
"Don't panic, I didn't take too much." He winced.
Tears were already gathering at the corner of his eyes. Orla was terrified, she had never seen him that way. It annoyed and bothered her that he was still acting all cool when he was dying in front of her.
"Where are your medications?" She queried, pissed that he took the juice when he knew about his allergy. She refused to imagine what would have happened if he had drunk too much.
Looking at Callan in pain broke her heart into shreds. She stood from the chair and let him flump on it.
"Where are they?" She repeated, but Callan laughed a little and then louder.
"Sit down, Orla. Close to me, right here." He gestured to the chair.
Orla stood still, she drew the chair closer and sat next to him. "Callan." She called, holding his hands.
"My medication is here. I will be fine just staying here with you. You don't have to worry about me, I just need to relax for a bit and I will be fine." He was all smiles and that annoyed Orla more.
How could he be so cool when he was in pain?
"You shouldn't have taken the drink." She whispered, rubbing her palm against his chest. "Now, I don't even know what to do."
"I told you to stay here with me. The pain is subsiding by just staring at you." He drew her closer and hugged her tightly. "Thank you for holding me."
"I should tell you thank you for cooking for me." His eyes on her did a thousand things to her. She tried to avoid his eyes, but he seemed to be everywhere, all over her.
"And I should thank you for letting me cook for you. I have never been more alive, Orla." He winced again.
Orla continued to rub his chest, she had no idea what else she could do.
The pain was mild and he could manage it. But holding her hands while staring at her face felt like heaven and he wasn't sure how long she'd let him do that. So, he took advantage of the leverage of being allergic to strawberries.
She watched Callan when he stared away and her heart was filled with so much joy mixed with hurt. She was happy that Callan had completely changed and hurt that Callan was in pain.
She tried not to admit it, but it wasn't working. No matter how hard she tried to deny it, she knew she cared about Callan and she couldn't hide that fact.
"Do you feel better?" She asked but there was no response. When she looked down at him, his eyes were already shut. "Callan?" Her lips twitched into a smile that couldn't be helped.
Callan was a big baby.
The almighty Callan was asleep in her arms and she wanted to watch him all morning.
She took his hand, running her tiny fingers through the scar on his wrist.
His words immediately echoed in her ears. She smiled, eager to know the story behind the scar, his late brother and many other things that she needed to know.
Hello, my beautiful readers.
So, how do you see Callan and Orla getting along with each other?