CHAPTER 249: HOME

Callan opened his tired eyes and sat up straighter as the Jet touched the ground in Ludus with a soft bump.

He ran his hand over his face when the door opened and let out a slow breath as he rose and got out of the plane.

As he stepped into the airport his heart beat faster. He looked around quickly, searching for his parents, who never failed to pick him from the airport whenever he traveled.

His heart skipped a beat when he saw them.

His mother, Delilah, was waving both hands high, her eyes already shiny with happy tears. His father, Hunter, stood tall beside her, his arm around her shoulders.

The moment Callan’s eyes landed on them, his tired face broke into a smile as his mother rushed forward. "Callan!"

"Mom," Callan breathed, hugging her tight.

He hadn’t realized how much he missed her until that moment when she hugged him and he felt like he was home.

His arms locked around her like he was a little boy again, back in the orphanage him where they had met.

Delilah kissed both his cheeks again and again. "I have missed you so much," she whispered against his face, rubbing his cheeks fondly, the way she always did when she was too full of love.

"I’ve missed you too. I’m sorry it took so long to visit you," he said, smiling at her.

Hunter stepped forward. "Why are you treating a grown man like a little boy?" He asked, making both his wife and Callan laugh as they pulled away from each other to face him.

His hand came down heavy but warm against Callan’s back. "How are you doing, son?"

Callan let out a dry laugh, but his voice was low. "I’ve been anxious since I got your call. I’ll feel better once I know what’s going on."

Hunter nodded, his eyes serious. "I thought as much. Let’s get home first."

Together, they walked out to the car waiting at the curb.

The drive was quiet only for a moment. Then his mother started asking question after question about Husla, about the company, about how he was eating, about Emily.

"She’s fine," Callan said softly, and a little smile tugged his lips when he thought of Emily’s stubborn face.

He wondered how she was doing and what she was up to. He knew she was worried about him, and he appreciated it.

His father joined in, asking about business and friends. Callan answered, his voice trailing sometimes as his eyes grew heavy. He’d barely slept all through the long flight because of how worried he’d been, but now that he had seen them he felt more relaxed.

Their voices sounded normal. They even laughed as they talked. Everything was okay. Relief spread through him like warm water.

He let his eyes close. The sound of their voice as they chatted wrapped around him. Soon, he was fast asleep.

By the time the car rolled to a stop in front of the house, Callan stirred awake. His heart quickened at the sight of the building that had been his home for years.

Every time he came back here he remembered the first time he was here. Not as their son but as a guest because he’d been upset and Delilah had been kind enough to want to give him respite from his thoughts away from the orphanage.

The kids had the orphanage all thought of Delilah as an angel, and he had come to think of her as that too after the first time he met her. He never would have believed that of all the calm and sweet kids at the orphanage, she’d choose to adopt a troubled kid like him.

Over the years he’d heard rumors that they’d only adopted him because of some sort of scandal, still he had been grateful that they’d adopted him and given him the life he now lived.

"What are you thinking about? Let’s go in," his father said, slapping his back, and he smiled as he went inside with them.

At the foot of the steps his mother pressed a kiss to his hair. "Freshen up, darling, then come down let’s eat."

"I’m not really hungry," Callan said, rubbing his neck.

Her eyes narrowed, but her voice stayed soft. "Don’t you dare say that again. I left all I had to do to cook specially for you."

Hunter advanced with threatening steps, pointing at Callan. "Better not waste her effort."

Callan laughed, lifting both hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. I’ll be right back."

He went upstairs into his room. The air smelled faintly of cedar. His bed was neatly made, his books stacked just as he had left them years ago.

His chest loosened. It felt like home.

Remembering what he had planned to do while on the Jet, he dropped onto the bed, took out his phone, and dialed Jamal’s line.

Somehow he believed that Jamal would know what was going on, since it couldn’t be coincidence that just after he told Jamal to help him look into his biological mother’s whereabouts, he was summoned home regarding his biological parents.

The line connected, and Jamal’s voice came through. "Hey, Cal!" Jamal greeted, wondering if Callan was calling because he’d heard from his parents about Ryan.

"Hey! I’m in Ludus. My Dad asked me to travel down," Callan said at once. Then, his voice dropped. "Did you... did you tell Tom or anyone else that I was trying to find Karen Combs?"

There was a long sigh on the other end. "Cal... talk to your parents first. Then we’ll talk."

"Why?" Callan’s brows drew tight. "What’s going on? Did you really tell them?"

"You’ll understand better after you hear it from them," Jamal said, voice firm. "But I can tell you this much, Karen Combs is not your biological mother."

Callan sat up straighter, his hand clenching the phone. "That’s not true. I was told she was. Even my parents tried to find her."

Jamal’s tone grew heavier. "Let’s talk after you hear from your parents." And then the line went dead.

Callan stared at the screen. His chest thudded.

Jamal sounded too serious. It seemed like whatever his parents were going to tell him was a big deal and now he was anxious all over again.

He shoved the phone down, stripped, and showered quickly. When he was done he changed into his old clothes, then returned downstairs to join his parents at the dining.

The smell of warm food filled the air as he drew closer to the dining room.

Callan paused when he saw his father standing by the window in the living room with his phone pressed to his ear, and his shoulders were stiff.

"Do you think that is a good idea?" He heard his father ask, his voice was low and serious.

When Hunter noticed Callan, he walked out to continue the call elsewhere.

"Mom," Callan said, stepping close to Delilah, who had been sounding some feet away from her husband. "Is everything alright? Dad’s call sounds pretty serious."

She forced a smile. "Let’s eat first, darling. We’ll talk when your father joins us."

Reluctantly he sat down at the long table. The food was steaming as she served some on his place. As he ate, she reached out and touched his face lightly. "Have you been sleeping well?"

"Yes, Mom," Callan lied, though his eyes wavered.

"Are you sure?" She asked doubtfully.

"Yeah. Sure," he assured her, not wanting her to worry about him as he knew she would.

"Your nightmares, are they gone?"

"Hm hm," he hummed, and shut his eyes, pretending to be enjoying the meal, "this is so good. I think I’m ready to move back home now. I’m only worried I might become overweight."

She laughed, then looked at him with serious eyes. "Are you seeing anyone seriously now?" she asked, her eyes hopeful.

He grinned. "I’m seeing many people seriously."

Delilah swatted at his hand, laughing. "Be serious."

"I am serious," he teased, and she sighed but decided to let it go for now.

Just then Hunter walked back in. He lowered himself into the chair at the head of the table. "That was Damon," he said.

"How is he?" Callan asked with a small smile.

"He’s fine. I told him you’ve arrived and he sent his greetings," Hunter said and Callan nodded.

"I’ll try to stop by to see him and Aunt Jessica before returning to Husla."

"They will probably come over later in the day," Hunter said, then his eyes found Callan’s. "I know you’re curious about why we called you home."

Callan’s fork stilled on the plate. "I am," he admitted.

Hunter leaned back, rubbing his jaw. "I thought I’d have time to figure out how to broach the subject. But now that you’re here, I still don’t know how."

"Is it something bad?" Callan asked, and Delilah reached for his hand.

Her fingers squeezed gently. "Do you remember what we promised you when we first brought you home?"

He nodded slowly.

"Tell me, darling," she urged.

His throat bobbed. "That you’d always be honest with me. That you’d help me find my mother. And if she ever came looking for me, you’d tell me, and if I wanted to go with her, you’d let me."

Her eyes shone with tears and she nodded. "We tried, Callan. We really did. But it was futile. And we finally got to know the reason why."

His heart skipped. "Why?"

Delilah shook her head. "Because the woman we thought was your biological mother is not your mother. She was your mom’s close friend and was with her when she had you. She abandoned you because your mom died and she couldn’t care for you."

His chest grew tight. "What are you talking about?"

He looked between them, trying to understand what Delilah had just said, but before he could process it all, his father spoke again.

Hunter’s voice was low. "Your biological father is trying to find you. From what we hear, he has been trying to find you for a really long time now."

The words hit Callan like a punch in his gut. His eyes widened. "What? No. I... I don’t understand."

Hunter leaned forward. "It’s complicated. Only him can explain the details to you. But from what I’ve heard, you know him. Maybe not personally. But you know who he is."

Callan frowned, his pulse racing. "How is that possible? Who is he?"

Hunter’s eyes locked on his son’s. "Ryan Harris. Does the name mean anything to you?"