Page 72 of Keepsakes and Kismet

My heart is beating so fast. I want to give Callum a chance to explain, but I’m also riddled with questions, and—beneath it all—I’m hurt. I’m hurt that he kept this from me. I have every right to ask, but I want to ease into it.

“Hey, Pey. What a nice surprise.”

Callum’s voice breaks up my thoughts, and I swivel around to find him standing behind me on the sidewalk.

His lips curve into a soft grin. “I just finished my inspection and saw you walking, so I⁠—”

“When were you going to tell me what happened at the Harvest Festival?” I place my hands on my hips, trying to catch my breath.

So much for easing into it.

“About…”

“About what happened with Daniel.”

He swallows. “Did he tell you?”

“Jesus, Callum. Does it matter how I found out?”

He shakes his head. “No, I⁠—”

“Was it a trigger?”

Callum drops his chin to his chest, looking completely defeated. “Yeah.”

I sigh, trying to slow down. “Let’s go somewhere more private and talk about it. Maybe the library.”

“Alright,” he says quietly.

We walk into the library just behind us, and Doris, the town librarian, says hello. Giving her a short wave and walking as quickly as possible, I pass the children’s section until I find an unoccupied study room. He walks in first, slumping down in a chair, and I follow, closing the door behind us.

I pull out the chair across from Callum, sliding into it before I realize it looks like an official interrogation. Quickly moving around to his side, I take the seat next to him instead. “I’m sad that you didn’t tell me. I had a panic attack in front of you. I’ve let you in, and… you’re, what? Confiding in everyone but me? Why?”

Callum drums his fingers on the table nervously. “I’m sorry for not telling you what happened at the festival. Honestly, I was embarrassed, and I didn’t want to ruin your day. You were having such a great time with your friends, and I really wanted to make a good impression.”

“I get that.” My heart aches for him.

He rubs his temples. “I should’ve let you in sooner. But I also just didn’t want you to think of me differently. You’re healing, too.”

“We’re both healing, Callum.”

“I know, and I’d already planned to talk to you about it on our coffee date today. Even at the festival, I told DT that my intention was to tell you as soon as possible. And I’d still like to do that—now, if that’s okay.”

I lean forward, giving him my full attention.

He takes a steadying breath. “You know that I’ve always kind of referred to what’s going on with me as ‘mental health stuff.’” His shoulders tense. “I have Uncomplicated PTSD from something that happened a very long time ago. The ‘uncomplicated’ means that my trauma stems from a singular event. I’m not necessarily ready to give you the play-by-play of that yet, because there are some things that I want to do first—goals I want to accomplish. DT doesn’t know those details, either. But I’d like to tell you about it one day. If you want to know.”

We both sit with what he said for a minute. I want to make sure that what I say next is going to come across as supportive. I’m about to reply, but he speaks again before I can, his words tumbling out in one big breath.

“PTSD can sound scary, especially if you’re unfamiliar with it. There are a lot of stereotypes out there. Like having it means I’m unpredictable. Unstable. That people with PTSD can’t be trusted to manage it on their own. But that’s not always the case.”

“Callum, I’m not⁠—”

“My medication helps, and I have coping mechanisms I use when I’m triggered. If those don’t work, it just kind of manifests in me as sadness. You don’t have to be afraid that I’d get angry, or⁠—”

“Callum.” I cover his hand with mine. “Please don’t worry, because I’m not worried. I know you’re taking care of yourself. This doesn’t change anything for me, or the way I feel about you.”

I watch some tension slide off his shoulders as he relaxes into his chair.