Page 222 of A Courage of the Chosen

I made him watch The Princess Diaries, and he won’t admit it to anyone, but he laughed out loud on multiple occasions, and he now has a healthy obsession with Star Wars, after we’d watched that, too.

He often groused that he missed home, and couldn’t wait to get back to Elfayne, but something I used to take for granted would pique his interest and he’d ask a million questions about it. It’s been endearing, really.

The biggest revelation for me . . . I didn’t miss a single thing about Brooklyn.

It’s been nice to visit, but this isn’t home anymore. And after three weeks away, I’m ready to feel the magic of the Seelie world in my veins again.

We’ll be flying to the UK tonight, and be back in Elfayne by tomorrow evening.

Reyne and Eòghann’s wedding is next month, and we promised them we’d be back to help with preparations. But we timed this trip specifically so I could visit Mom on the fourth anniversary of her death.

Callahan stands and I lean into his chest when he pulls me close.

“I took him to our favorite coffee place, Mom,” I speak to her grave. “But they’ve stopped doing the pastry you used to go mad for.”

“I thought the pistachio croissant was pretty good?” Callahan says.

“It was alright. Not as good as the chocolate dipped raspberry one they used to do.”

“You should’ve seen her face when she discovered two more books in this series she’s obsessed with,” he chuckles, as he recounts the tale for my mom. I’d lost my shit in the airport, and then ignored him for approximately forty-eight hours while I consumed them both, cover to cover.

They’re one of the few things I’ll be taking back with me.

“Something about dudes with wings?” he adds, and I playfully pinch his side. Callahan darts out of my reach with a grin, and then it drops as he reaches into the pocket of his jacket.

It was a little disarming at first to see him dressed in jeans. They exist in Elfayne, but I’d just never seen Callahan in them. My god, did he wear the heck out of them.

He pulls out a black fabric pouch, cinched together by drawstring.

“I’ve been keeping this for a little while,” he murmurs.

He’s turned serious, and a fissure of alarm ripples in the back of my mind.

“What is it?” I ask, my eyes darting between his hands and face.

“These are Màiri’s ashes.”

We’d burned Granny’s body near that temporary camp, set up by the rebellion to house people before moving them on to Morven. I couldn’t tell you where that pyre was if I had a hundred years to find it.

“How?” I breathe.

“I went back in the dead of night after the funeral and gathered some,” he shrugs.

“But, why?” It comes out wobbly, and Callahan’s stormy gray eyes lift to meet mine.

“I knew how much she meant to you, and I wanted you to have a piece of her. Now, you can scatter them here with Heather, so she and Màiri can be together in this life and the beyond.”

The gesture is so incredibly thoughtful, and he did that when I was a stranger to him. He didn’t know me, didn’t trust me, and at a time I was convinced he hated me, he still had the compassion to gather those ashes.

He saw what her death did to me, to Grandpa, and made sure I had something to hold onto aside from my memories.

I step forward and take his face in my hands to kiss him softly. “You are the most thoughtful man I’ve ever known. I don’t know what I did to get so lucky, but I’ll be grateful every day that you chose me. I love you, Cal.”

He bands his arms around my waist. “I love you, too.”

I hug Callahan fiercely, and kiss him a final time before I peel away and take the velvet pouch containing Granny.

Turning back to the headstone, I smile. It’ll no longer be just Granny’s name that exists here. I scatter the ashes quickly, with Callahan’s hand resting on my lower back as a tear escapes onto my cheek.