Chapter 23: Chapter XXIII: Behind the silence

Callum sat on the edge of the leather couch in his living room, his fingers drumming absently against the edge of his phone. The room smelled faintly of the dark roast coffee he had just made and aged wood—familiar, grounding scents—but nothing could still the storm stirring in his chest.

Julian, seated opposite his couch, watched him quietly. “You’ve been staring at that phone for ten minutes.”

Callum’s jaw tightened. “I need to speak to her.”

Julian didn’t ask who. He already knew. The same way he knew that Callum hadn’t been himself since Ariana left for Manhattan that morning.

“You’re not great at this,” Julian said, not unkindly. “You want her close but you push her away. That’s not going to work with someone like her.”

“I know,” Callum muttered, pressing his thumb against his temple. “I just— I thought putting distance between us would protect her. From Milanna. From the media. From everything coming our way.”

“Did you explain that to her? You know she’s capable of understanding what we have going on.”

Callum’s silence answered the question.

Julian sighed, then gave him a pointed look. “I advise you top sitting there like a coward and call her.”

Callum exhaled slowly, stood, and walked to the window overlooking the city skyline. The phone felt heavier than it should as he finally hit the call button.

The line rang once.

Twice.

Three times.

She didn’t pick up.

Each unanswered ring was like a stab to the chest. He hadn’t expected her to answer with warmth. But the silence felt like punishment. Deserved. Brutal.

He ended the call, closing his eyes as he leaned his forehead against the glass.

What if she doesn’t want to speak to me again?

He’d done what he thought was right—sent her away, kept her at arm’s length to keep her safe—but the cost of that decision was sinking in deeper now. In pushing her away, he’d let her believe she didn’t matter. That she was just another pawn in the game he played far too well.

But this time… it wasn’t a game.

He scrolled down to her contact again, debating a second call when the screen suddenly lit up with her name.

Ariana.

He answered immediately.

“Hey,” he said, trying to sound steady.

There was a beat of silence on the other end before she spoke, her voice calm, but distant. “Hi.”

He swallowed. “I—I called earlier. You didn’t pick up.”

“I just saw your calls.” Another pause. “I’m not sure I’m ready to talk.”

That hurt more than he expected. “But you called back.”

“I didn’t want to leave it like this,” she admitted, still guarded. “Even if you apparently did.”

Callum closed his eyes, pressing his fingers against the bridge of his nose. “Ariana…”

“You sent me away without a word, Callum,” she said, her voice low and tight. “Not even a goodbye. After everything—after the gala, after all the drama—after the kiss—” Her voice cracked slightly, then steadied. “You let me walk away like I meant nothing. You weren’t even concerned with how I got on.”

“That’s not true,” he said quickly. “You—God, you mean more than you know. I just... I thought I was doing the right thing. I didn’t want you caught in the crossfire of everything coming. I was trying to protect you.”

“By abandoning me?” she asked. “By treating me like I was a problem you had to manage? How does dismissing me protect me? What am I even been protected from?”

There was a brief moment of silence.

He knew her questions deserved answers but those weren’t answers he was ready to give yet. He knew Julian was right that she needed to understand the full picture but he was scared.

What if she finds out who he really was and wanted to leave?

Callum turned from the window, pacing now. “You weren’t a problem. You’re the one thing that’s made any of this bearable.”

A long silence stretched between them again. Her breathing was the only sound on the other end of the line.

“I didn’t know what to say,” he continued, his voice rough. “Every time I tried, it sounded like an excuse. And then it was morning, and I figured... maybe letting you go quietly would make it easier for you.”

“It didn’t,” Ariana whispered. “It made it worse. It felt like a walk of shame leaving this morning.”

Callum sank into a chair, the weight of regret pulling at his spine. “I’m sorry.”

Another pause. Then, softer: “I didn’t want to leave, Callum. But you made it so easy to believe I should.”

He rubbed a hand over his face. “I was scared.”

“You?” she asked, a sad note in her voice. “What could scare you?”

He hesitated. Then the truth slipped out, more vulnerable than he expected. “You saw through me. That terrifies me more than any threat or the press. With you, I can’t hide behind the version of myself the world expects. And I don’t know how to be that man—the real one—and keep you safe at the same time.”

Silence stretched again.

“I never asked you to be perfect,” Ariana finally said. “I just needed you to be honest with me. To carry me along so I know what is going on.”

“I will try my best to do better.” Callum said, standing again. “No more distance. No more decisions without you.”

She exhaled slowly, not quite convinced. “You say that now.”

“Then let me prove it.” His voice was steady, firm now. “Stay in Manhattan for now. But give me time. Let me handle Milanna and the drama. Let me fix the situation.”

“I’m not some fragile thing you have to fix. I need you to remember that.” Ariana said quietly. “I just want to matter.”

“You do.” His tone softened. “You always have.”

There was no grand resolution. No promise of everything being okay. But there was something in her voice when she finally said, “Okay,” that gave him hope.

Hope that this wasn’t over.

Not yet.