Chapter 9: The Price of Walking Away

Three days passed without a single word from Callum.

I expected to feel anxious.

Instead, I felt strangely calm.

My sister had helped me find a small apartment across town.

It wasn't large, and the furniture was nothing like the carefully decorated home Callum and I had shared.

But every corner belonged to me.

No one could walk in and decide who slept in which room.

No one could give away something that belonged to me and tell me not to make a scene.

For the first time in years, I could breathe.

***

On the fourth morning, my lawyer called.

"Maren, Callum has agreed to cancel the wedding."

I paused.

"That's good."

"There's more."

Her voice became cautious.

"He also wants to transfer his share of the house to you."

I frowned.

"I don't want his house."

"He says it's not a gift."

"Then what is it?"

"He said the house was supposed to be your home. He doesn't want to keep something that was built around your plans together."

I stared out the window.

Once, I would have been touched by those words.

Now, they only made me tired.

"Tell him to sell it if he wants."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

I had already spent too much of my life fighting over things that no longer mattered.

***

That afternoon, I went back to the hospital for a follow-up appointment.

The doctor carefully reviewed my bloodwork.

Her expression remained serious.

"Your levels are still low. You need to rest and avoid unnecessary stress."

I nodded.

"I understand."

"And because your blood type is so rare, we need to update your medical records and discuss future precautions."

I listened quietly.

Seven years of storing blood had always felt like a strange burden.

Now I finally understood why I had done it.

Not for Callum.

Not for anyone else.

For myself.

***

When I left the hospital, I saw someone standing near the entrance.

Callum.

He looked exhausted.

His hair was messy, and there were dark circles beneath his eyes.

He spotted me immediately.

For a moment, neither of us moved.

Then he walked toward me.

"Maren."

I stopped several feet away.

"Why are you here?"

"I wanted to make sure you were okay."

I gave him a faint smile.

"I'm doing better."

His eyes dropped to my hands.

"Are you still anemic?"

"Yes."

His jaw tightened.

"I'm sorry."

I didn't answer.

"I should have protected you," he continued.

"Instead, I was the one who put you in danger."

I looked at him.

"You finally understand."

"I do."

He swallowed.

"But understanding doesn't make it hurt any less."

"No," I said quietly.

"It doesn't."

***

Callum took a breath.

"Poppy is stable now."

I nodded.

"That's good."

He looked surprised by my response.

"You don't hate her?"

"She's a child, Callum."

I shook my head.

"I never hated her."

"I hated that you used her suffering to justify hurting me."

His expression crumpled.

"I know."

He looked down.

"Brielle and I aren't together."

I raised an eyebrow.

"You don't need to explain that to me."

"I know. I just wanted you to hear it from me."

I said nothing.

"After everything happened, I realized I had been confusing responsibility with love."

He gave a bitter laugh.

"I thought saving Poppy made me a good person."

"But I didn't stop to ask what kind of person I was becoming while doing it."

His eyes met mine.

"I hurt the person who trusted me most."

I looked away.

"That's something you'll have to live with."

"I will."

***

A car horn sounded behind us.

My sister was waiting at the curb.

I took one step toward her.

Callum suddenly spoke again.

"Maren."

I turned.

"I won't ask you to come back anymore."

I watched him carefully.

"Then what are you asking?"

"Nothing."

He forced a small smile.

"I just wanted to say goodbye properly."

Something inside me softened.

Not enough to return.

Just enough to let go.

"Goodbye, Callum."

His eyes reddened.

"Goodbye, Maren."

I turned around and walked toward my sister.

This time, I didn't look back.

***

That night, I opened the final box from my old home.

Inside were photographs, letters, and small gifts Callum had given me over the years.

I picked up one photograph from when we were teenagers.

We were standing together beneath the summer sun, both smiling.

I stared at it for a long time.

Then I placed it into a storage box.

I didn't destroy the memories.

I simply stopped letting them control my future.

Tomorrow, I would start looking for a new job opportunity.

I would rebuild my routine.

I would make plans that belonged only to me.

And somewhere along the way, I would learn how to live without waiting for someone else to choose me.

Because I had finally chosen myself.