CHAPTER 208: LEAVING

Hailee’s POV

"I’m sorry... I just can’t do this..." I whispered, keeping my eyes down because I couldn’t stand the pain I saw in his.

Callum stayed still for a moment. The air between us felt heavy, too heavy. Then I heard him let out a quiet sigh. "It’s because of Nathan, isn’t it?" he asked softly.

I shook my head, my voice trembling. "Not really about him," I said honestly.

And it wasn’t. Not completely.

Yes, Nathan’s memory still clung to me like a shadow I couldn’t shake, but this... this was more than that. It was guilt. Confusion. The feeling of being torn between who I used to be and who I was trying to become.

Callum watched me carefully. His eyes were soft now, not angry—just sad. "Then what is it, Hailee?" he asked quietly. "Because every time I think I understand you, you pull away."

I swallowed hard, struggling to find the words. "I don’t know who I am anymore, Callum," I admitted. "Everything feels wrong. Like I’m walking through something that doesn’t fit me."

He nodded slowly, his jaw tight, but his voice was calm. "You don’t have to explain if it hurts."

"I need to," I said, my chest aching. "Because you deserve the truth."

I looked up at him finally, meeting his eyes. "When I’m with you, I feel safe. I feel wanted. But then..." My throat tightened. "Then I remember all the people I’ve hurt. And I can’t breathe."

Callum stepped closer but didn’t touch me. He just stood there, giving me space. "I understand you perfectly."

His words hit something deep inside me, but I couldn’t respond. I was too full of everything—guilt, fear, longing.

"I’m sorry," I whispered again.

He gave a faint smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. "You always say that."

And with that, he turned and walked toward the door. Before leaving, he looked back once more and said, "Good night."

The door closed gently behind him.

After Callum left, the room felt cold. I stood there for a long time, staring at the door like he might walk back in. But he didn’t.

I finally forced myself to move. My body felt heavy as I walked into the bathroom. The warm water from the shower hit my skin, but it didn’t wash away the ache in my chest. I closed my eyes and let the water run over me, trying to breathe, trying to feel normal again.

Tomorrow, I was going back to Nathan.

The thought alone made my stomach twist. I didn’t know what to expect—anger, pain, silence. Maybe all three. Whatever it was, I knew it wouldn’t be easy.

When I got out, I changed into my nightgown and lay down on the bed. The sheets were cool, but the air around me felt heavy. I stared at the ceiling, listening to the soft hum of the night outside. My thoughts wouldn’t stop spinning between the weight of everything in between.

Eventually, sleep came—but it wasn’t peaceful.

I dreamed of blood.

Of my boys—Oliver, Oscar, and Ozzy—lying in a pool of it. Their small hands limp, their eyes open but empty. I screamed, reaching for them, but the more I ran, the farther away they drifted. The red spread across the ground.

"Mom!"

I woke up with a gasp, sitting up so fast that my chest hurt. My heart was pounding. My skin was damp with sweat. It was already dawn outside, but my room felt suffocating.

I threw the covers aside and rushed down the hall, my bare feet hitting the floor hard. My breath came fast, my heart thudding against my ribs as I burst into their room.

The lights were on.

And there they were—all three of them.

Alive. Awake.

Oliver was sitting on the edge of his bed, already dressed. Oscar was fixing his tie, grinning at himself in the mirror. Ozzy was tucking his sketchbook into his backpack.

"Good morning, Mom," Oliver said, smiling.

I froze, the breath I’d been holding finally leaving me in one shaky exhale. "You’re... you’re all up."

Oscar laughed softly. "Of course we are. We’re going back to Alpha Nathan’s place today." His eyes shone with excitement. "I can’t wait to see him again."

Oliver’s smile faded a little. "Yeah..." he said quietly. "It’ll be good to see him." But I could tell he wasn’t ready to leave. He liked it here, maybe more than he wanted to admit.

Ozzy, the quiet one, just looked between them. "We’ll be fine, right?" he asked softly.

I walked over and cupped his cheek. "Yes," I whispered, forcing a smile. "You’ll all be fine."

I watched them for a while—how calm they seemed, how grown they were for just ten. My dream still echoed in my head, but seeing them alive, smiling, eased some of the fear.

"I’ll go take my bath," I said finally. "Then we’ll leave."

They nodded, and I turned back to my room.

When I was done bathing, I dressed quickly in a simple gown, nothing fancy. I brushed my hair, packed the last of my things, and looked at my reflection one last time.

"You can do this," I whispered to myself. "Just breathe."

Then I picked up my bag and walked back to the boys’ room. They were ready, standing by the door with their small backpacks.

"Let’s go," I said softly.

They followed me down the stairs, their footsteps light against the floor.

And there he was—Callum He stood near the doorway, hands tucked deep into his pockets, looking tall and calm like always. The morning light from the windows touched his golden brown hair and made it shine a little. He didn’t smile this time, but his face was gentle—calm, steady, and difficult to read.

The boys slowed their steps when they saw him. Even they went quiet, which almost never happened.

For a moment, none of us spoke. The house felt too quiet, like it was holding its breath. The air between us was heavy, filled with things we wanted to say but couldn’t.

Callum’s eyes moved from me to the boys, then back to me again. There was something in his gaze—maybe sadness, maybe care—but it was there, unspoken.

I felt my chest tighten. I wanted to thank him, to say something, but my voice didn’t come.

So we just stood there, all of us caught in a silence that said more than words ever could.