The next morning, a faint light filtered in.
Callum immediately woke. His back ached, and his shirt was damp with sweat. He crawled over to Dahlia, who was still wrapped tightly in a blanket. Her eyes opened, pupils dilated with pain. "Morning," she said quietly, attempting a small smile.
He winced.
"Rough night?" Dahlia continued.
Callum didn't answer right away. He reached into the first aid kit they'd found and pulled out fresh alcohol wipes and a larger bandage. Dahlia's bandaged arm had swollen overnight, and the edges of the old wrap were soaked through with blood. "Lie down," he said softly.
He anchored her down with an extra pillow behind her. Dahlia hesitated, gaze locked on his. "Let me do it," he insisted, voice gentler than she'd ever heard. "We need to clean this." She nodded and extended her forearm reluctantly.
Callum began to unwrap the old bandage. Dahlia sucked in a breath as blood oozed into the sterile cloth. "I can't even tell what day it is," she whispered as he swabbed. "It's the second day," Callum said, focusing on his movements. "Yesterday was hell. We'll survive today." He slowly dabbed at the cut, new red tissue visible around the edges.
Dahlia gritted her teeth, tears in her eyes, as he cleaned away the dried blood. She winced at a scrub of antiseptic. Callum's hands were steady as he applied a thick antiseptic gel from a small tube.
"Does it hurt?" he asked quietly.
"A lot," Dahlia admitted, holding back a cry.
Callum poured a clean saline flush from a bottle to irrigate the wound. The saline hissed on contact. Dahlia jerked. Callum caught her hand. For a moment, their eyes met.
"Deep breaths, Dahlia," he coached, voice taut with tension. Her fingers squeezed his.
"Do you…hate me that much?" Dahlia's voice trembled. "That even now you won't hold me?"
Callum's jaw tightened. He looked away, shaking his head. He cut another piece of bandage.
"I don't," he said softly. "I just…knew right from wrong."
Dahlia closed her eyes, and tears escaped down her cheeks. "Sera got more than gold."
Callum placed the bandage and secured it tightly around her arm. His knuckles turned white with pressure.
"Don't cry," he said, more to himself. "We both know how sacred marriage is..."
Callum looked at her and smiled, "You taught me that."
The statement heavily filled the room. Dahlia felt the air drop from her lungs. She quietly began to sob, muffling her face into her other sleeve.
Callum instantly regretted his words the moment they left his lips. He started to say something, but Dahlia turned her face away and sobbed, tears soaking the sheets. He looked helpless and angry at himself. He sat on the edge of the bed, one foot on the floor. His shoulders trembled slightly – with guilt, exhaustion, or both.
Dahlia's body shook with quiet sobs. Callum clenched his fists against his knees, overwhelmed by the situation.
However, every time he wanted to give her a hug, his hand always chose to play with the ring on his finger, reminding him he is right.
He thought of Seraphine – her calm – and the string of vows they had shared. He didn't follow his heart. He wouldn't allow vulnerability now.
Thus, Callum stood abruptly, pacing back to the door- letting the hands of time comfort her.
Dahlia wiped her face with trembling hands. After a moment, she managed, "I— I understand," her voice small. "I drove you away."
Callum took a deep breath. The guilt tightened in his chest, but he gave Dahlia a small nod. "Maybe... It's our destiny."
He walked to the closed balcony door and unlatched it. Outside, the storm was still raging. Rolling thunder growled as a sudden draft swept into the room, fluttering the curtains. Dahlia shivered as the cold air hit her bare arms. "Stay here," he told her softly. She saw regret in his eyes. But instead of stepping out, he only opened the door about three inches and leaned his ear to the wall, listening for any hint of rescuers.
Silence answered him.
He returned to his corner by the door. Dahlia watched his silhouette, angry at herself for the guilt in her heart.
"I'm sorry," she silently begged. But as the thunder boomed outside, there was no response from him.
---
Callum looked at the closed balcony door, and memories made him stiff.
Last year's anniversary...
Dahlia is pushing Callum out onto the suite's small balcony. The sky was clear, and in the distance, fireworks unexpectedly bloomed into brilliant colors.
Surprised, Callum turned to her, raising an eyebrow. "Surprise?" she asked, grinning. He pulled her into his arms. Below, the resort's lawn had a small fireworks display that employees had set off. Laughing, they danced barefoot under the sky as red and gold sparks whirled above them.
In Dahlia's pocket jingled the silver bracelet he had given her; on his wrist flashed the watch from the first anniversary.
They swayed to the crackling finale.
Afterward, on that same balcony, Callum tucked a strand of hair behind Dahlia's ear. They kissed under the stars. His arms tightened around her as if he could hold the moment forever.
Present...
Dahlia felt the shudder of the wind, silent now. With the balcony door cracked, a gust of coldness burst in. She rose from the bed and stepped out into the rain, letting it hit her face.
The cool mist contrasted with the heat of her tears. In that shocking rain, all the guilt washed over her. Dahlia closed her eyes and breathed in. Standing barefoot on the wooden balcony, she felt both the freedom and the futility of that moment. The falling rain pelted hard, drumming a furious rhythm.
Behind her, Callum pressed close, wet hair sticking to his forehead. He hesitated, watching her, but said nothing. Dahlia leaned against him, feeling his warmth through the damp clothes. The rain was cold but strangely cleansing. She placed her hands on his chest. He looked at her solemnly, letting her hold on. Finally, Dahlia whispered through chattering teeth, "I wish things were different."
Callum didn't respond.
Instead, he pulled her inside and closed the door. As they were inside, Callum let go of her and answered.
"Dahlia... past can never be our present."