The Blood Between Us

ChapterThree

CHAPTER THREE (3)

Eve’s POV:

Callan finally broke the silence, just when it was almost becoming unbearable.

“Don’t worry about him,” he said calmly, his hand tightening around mine. “He’s no one important.”

Julian stepped in, flashing a tight smile. “Alright, buddy,” he said sternly. “Time to give her some space.”

The man—Kieran, he called himself—hesitated, tightening his jaw. His eyes lingered on me like he was memorizing my face.

“I’ll come back,” he said quietly. “As many times as it takes. Until you remember me. Until you can finally remember us.”

And with that, he turned and left. The door clicked shut behind him, but the room still felt heavy with whatever had just happened.

I turned to Callan. “Who was that?” I asked softly. “Why did he speak like he’s known me for a long time?”

Callan’s expression softened as he reached for my hand, linking his fingers with mine. “Darling… he’s the reason you’re here. He caused the accident. He nearly took your life—and our baby’s. Maybe now he’s just trying to atone.”

I blinked. “But then why… why did he talk like we were in love?” My voice cracked with confusion. “Like we shared something real?”

Callan gave a short laugh, shaking his head. “Unbelievable! Wait… he actually said that to you?”

I nodded slowly.

He sighed and sat beside me on the bed, taking both my hands in his. “Eve, he’s trying to manipulate you. You’re vulnerable, and he’s trying to take advantage of that. Please… don’t let him confuse you.”

His thumb brushed a strand of hair from my cheek and tucked it behind my ear, his eyes locking with mine in supposed sincerity. “I’m here for you, for our baby. I love you. You’re my whole world, Eve.”

The heat of his palm against my cheek grounded me, and in my haze of confusion, I swallowed hard and nodded. “Okay. I’ll be careful… I promise.”

He kissed my hand and smiled. “That’s all I ask.”

Julian clapped his hands together. “Great, now that’s settled—Eve, is there anything you’d like to eat? I can grab something for you.”

I smiled faintly. “Something light… maybe fruit and toast.”

“You got it,” he said, smiling warmly at me.

I called, “Julian—what about Mum and Dad?”

He paused with his hand on the handle. “They’re on their way. Mum’s been a wreck—she barely left your side the first month. They’ll be here soon.”

Then he was gone.

---

Over the next two weeks, Kieran returned every single day quietly, persistently and patiently. He seems to be one who isn't going to give up easily.

He spoke about places I can’t recall, stories I couldn’t verify—stories about moments spent together at several favourite places of mine, including the city's famous bookstore and café.

He described versions of me that sounded foreign yet oddly comforting. A part of me wanted to believe him but another part of me wasn't sure what to believe.

That afternoon, I sat by the window, lost in thought, when I felt a light tap on my arm. I turned—and there he was again.

Kieran.

He looked different today. Devastatingly handsome in an effortless way. His dark hair, tousled yet clean. His sharp jaw slightly shadowed with stubble. He wore a deep navy shirt rolled up at the sleeves, veins subtly visible beneath tan skin.

There was a gentleness about him, but something weary too—as if sleep had abandoned him. His eyes held exhaustion and longing in equal measure.

“Eve…” His voice was soft, almost reverent. “I’m not here to upset you. Just… please, hear me out. One last time.”

He moved closer but didn’t sit—maintaining a safe distance apart.

I didn’t answer and I didn’t stop him either.

“You remember the night we’d watch the sky from the rooftop?" He began. "It was the night we'd returned from the Cinema and you couldn't get over the premier movie, "The Hole" which was unveiled at the cinema that night. We counted stars and dream names for our children. We agreed that one day we’d name our kids after constellations. Three kids, remember? Two girls and a boy. You picked the names: Aster, Isla, and Leo.”

My heart stuttered. Something about those names tugged at something deep inside. The words slipped into the corners of my mind like smoke. Familiar. Too familiar.

He stepped closer, still careful. “We made promises, Eve. No lies. No walking away angry. No matter what, we’d always find our way back to each other—even if the world tried to pull us apart…”

While he spoke, something flashed.

Images flickered in my mind—a rooftop, laughter, fingers entwined under a star-filled sky. And just as quickly—it was gone. Then a sharp, blinding pain stabbed behind my eyes.

I gasped and clutched both sides of my head. “No… stop—please stop talking!”

“Eve?” he stepped forward, alarmed. His voice filled with panic as he tried to reach for me.

“No—don’t—!” I cried, shaking him off. The pain was unbearable, stabbing behind my eyes like glass.

“Get away from me!” I shouted when he kept on insisting. The pain was too much, like my mind was trying to force something forward that wasn’t ready.

Just right at that moment, the door flew open. My nurse followed by one of the doctors, rushed in.

“She’s agitated. Sir, you need to leave—now,” the doctor said firmly to Kieran.

Kieran hesitated at the door, staring at me like his world was crumbling. “Eve, I—”

"Please, you need to leave Sir," the nurse snapped, interrupting him.

The doctor moved closer to Kieran at the door and murmured something to him—something I couldn’t catch.

I was curled up, sobbing quietly as the nurse stroked my hair. Kieran glanced back at me one last time, then he was gone.

The room went quiet except for my quiet sobs and the nurse’s soothing voice.

---

Three Weeks Later

Sunlight filtered through my bedroom blinds. The house was quiet and peaceful.

I’d been discharged and brought back to my Childhood home.

I sat on the edge of my bed, hand resting on the small swell of my belly. I felt calm and better now. No more strange dreams. No more painful flashbacks. And most importantly, no more Kieran.

There was something I needed to discuss with father. I slipped into a comfortable wear and in few minutes I was heading out the door.

Downstairs, I found one of the maids.

“Good morning, Lily. Where's everyone?”

“Mrs. Whitmore went to the mall, Mr. Julian had a hockey match. And your father is in the study… with Mr. Callan. He arrived not long ago.”

“Callan’s here?” I blinked. “Already?”

She nodded. “He asked not to be disturbed.”

I wandered toward the study after I'd dismissed her. As I neared, voices floated out.

“Do you really think she’d approve?” my father asked, low and uncertain.

“Just agree,” Callan was saying. “Once it’s done, I’ll handle the transfer. She doesn’t need to know anything.”

There was a sudden silence in the room.

“She’s my daughter, Callan,” my father replied, his tone uneasy. “This isn’t—”

“She’ll be fine. Especially once the engagement is announced. Trust me," I heard Callan assured.

“She won’t need to know. Not if everything goes according to plan.”

I paused just outside the door, my heart thudding. What were they talking about?

Before I could think more, I stepped into view.

Both men went still.

“Pumpkin!” he called, quickly smoothing his face into a smile. “Come, sit.”

“Do you need something?” My father asked, tapping me gently on the shoulder as I seat next to him.

I looked between them. “What were you talking about?”

Callan laughed lightly. “Just business, sweetheart. Nothing serious.”

“Are you feeling okay?” my father asked, changing the subject. “Need anything?”

I didn’t press, instead, I said, “I’ve been thinking… I want to go back to work. Staying home all day is driving me insane.”

Callan frowned. “You don’t have to rush, sweetheart. You have me and you need to have some more rest."

"Besides you don't need to work. I can take care of you," he added.

I smiled. “My job isn’t just a job. It’s my passion. Cultural heritage isn’t going to preserve itself. Will it?”

“I know you can take care of me but my work matters to me. Restoring cultural pieces, preserving history—it’s part of who I am,”

My father nodded in support. “Alright then. You can go ahead if that makes you feel better.”

Callan forced a smile. "It's okay by me. As long as it makes you happy."

Before anything else could be said, one of the maids knocked at the door and was allowed in.

“Miss Eve, your breakfast is ready.”

"Alright… Thank you," I replied warmly, after which I excused myself and left with her.

---

Julian barged into my room with a huge grin a week after.

By now I had already resumed back to work and was working on my system.

“Get dressed. I’m taking you out,"

I raised a brow. “Where?”

He grinned mischievously. “You’ll see.”

I stared at him for a beat, amused. “Fine. Give me ten minutes.”

He brought me to a hidden spot in Clearwater Ridge. The moment I stepped out of the car, something about the place made my heart ache in the weirdest way. Deja vu, maybe.

We walked further in. Then I saw a clearing with fairy lights twinkling in the trees, a table set up, people I recognized laughing and clapping.

And then—Callan.

He stepped forward, knelt on one knee, and pulled out a diamond ring.

“Eve Whitmore,” he said, “will you marry me?”

Everyone cheered.

I looked at my parents, at Julian, they all smiled.

Then I looked at Callan.

My lips trembled as tears streamed down my cheeks.

Tears of joy? I can't really tell.

“Yes,” I whispered.

And everyone erupted in joy.

But inside me… something shifted. Like the echo of a memory, calling from far away. One I couldn’t yet reach but knew… was still there.