When they settled in the car, Orla burst into intractable loud sobs. "How can anyone be so wicked, Callan? How can Mia be so wicked?"
For a minute, Callan got drowned in the sea of thoughts. He wondered what would have happened if he had listened to his mother, and chose Mia that day they visited Arnold Sullivan's mansion.
This day would never come up, Orla would never be vindicated, she would still live in distress, and he just knew he would never love Mia as much as he loved Orla.
Relief washed through him for his choice. No one would have been better.
"How do you feel?" He asked, taking her hands in his. A habit he was now used to and didn't want to ever stop.
"I don't know what and how to feel, Callan. I don't want to be a part of that family anymore." She shook her head, dejected. "They made me believe I was a murderer all along. How could they be so wicked to gaslight a young girl into believing that she killed her twin sister? Just how?"
"Don't get yourself worked up. I have all the evidence recorded. We can use it against them if you're willing to sue for defamations."
Callan passed his phone to her, scrolling through to play the voice recordings he had secretly made as her sisters confessed to their crimes.
Orla stared at him, not certain of what she wanted at that moment.
"It's okay, I will let you think about it. You can let me know whatever you decide on." He patted her back, whispering, "no rush."
She nodded her head, wiping tears from her eyes. "Thank you for staying with me, Callan. I wouldn't have stayed if you weren't there. I don't know what I would have done if you weren't there with me."
Callan smiled.
He gently caressed her hands, "I am proud of you, Orla. Your reactions, and everything you did. I am glad you faced them, and didn't get too vulnerable."
"I was able to do that because I had you by my side." Sharing a long gaze with him, she stopped sobbing and bit her lips. "Do you promise not to leave my side?"
Her eyes flickered in worry. She just lost all her family members, and Callan was the only one left for her. She needed his validation that he would never leave her.
"There is no way I am leaving you, Orla. Leaving you means death. I don't want to die now, I want to spend many more years with you and our nine babies."
"Nine babies?" She laughed, squinting her eyes. Finally, something to lift her mood. "Nine? I have a tiny body, I can't carry nine babies."
"We can reduce them to eight," he sent her a nasty smirk. "Or seven at the least."
"Oh, Callan!" She tried to hit him, but he held back her tiny hands.
"Orla," he dubbed, staring deeper into her eyes. When she nodded her head, he smiled. Placing a kiss on her hand, he said, "I have never been so complete, Orla. I need you every day to survive, don't leave me alone."
She didn't plan to leave him. There was no way she was ever going to leave Callan. He was like the air that she breathed.
As they stared at each other, they smiled. If this is what love was all about, then it was safe to assume that she loved Callan. No one had ever touched her heart in the way that he did.
"Where do you want to go from here? Not home, that I know."
Orla wiggled her head. She didn't want to go home, but she had somewhere on her mind to go. Somewhere she hadn't been in about two years.
The place she snuck out to go whenever everyone was against her when she still lived in her father's house.
She wanted to see her late sister and mother again. She wanted to let them know that she'd been vindicated, and she didn't kill them.
"I want to see my mom, and sister again. Will you take me there?"
Callan nodded, "I will do anything for you." He leaned down tenderly to press his lips against her forehead, lingering there for a while. "Just help me with the descriptions."
Orla's eyes dawdled on the mansion, hoping that her father would come out to check if she was still there, but he didn't show up. Then she concluded that he wouldn't be sincere with whatever he had to say when he called her to stay back.
As she thought of it, she wasn't sure how her relationship with her father was going to be from then, but she knew well that nothing would ever bring them close.
All her life, he had hated and ridiculed her, maltreated her, and didn't hesitate to let the world know that he hated his daughter. Orla didn't want a relationship with him, he didn't deserve it for all that he had done to her.
"Callan?"
"Yes, my love." He absentmindedly took her hand as he drove. His eyes fixed on the road, not staring at her. But the effect he had on her was crazy. She was melting as their hands connected.
How could he be so perfect? She thought inwardly. Plus he never used those words for her.
"Now that we've settled mine. What about yours?"
Sighting a bump close by, he slowed down and tilted his head to stare at Orla. "Mine? What's with mine?" Confusion dominated his gaze.
"Callan, your mom." That was all she had to say for him to perfectly understand her.
He nodded his head, taking a turn to the street that she described earlier.
"You don't have to worry about my mom and me." He shut her off, but she didn't let him.
"She's mad at you, Callan."
"Because I decided to love you, Orla." He didn't realize what he just said until the words left his mouth. He had never said that to her, but she knew.
She knew perfectly well that Callan adored her.