Back to the Love We Left Behind

Chapter 6

Callum's eyes were dark as midnight, revealing not a flicker of feeling.

Seven years in a position of power had cloaked him in a crushing presence, and Maren found herself stepping back involuntarily.

Callum caught the movement, and with a chilling detachment, he pivoted and strode into the old Prescott family mansion.

Maren didn't know what else she could possibly say. All she managed was a feeble, "Cal..."

That tiny voice pierced the dead silence of the night with startling clarity.

Callum heard her. But he never paused, never glanced back.

Through the windows of the mansion, the sounds of clinking glasses and merry laughter spilled out into the night. Maren stood on the outside, barred from entry. It hit her then—seven years had passed, and that world had become a circle she could never hope to fit into again.

At that moment, Maren felt it with piercing clarity: time had swept forward, yet she alone had remained frozen in place while Callum had already left her far behind. Could it really be that there was no chance left for them?

Her mind was a tangled mess, her heart in chaos, that in a foggy daze, her feet carried her to the park they used to frequent as children. There, in the corner, the big sandpit still lay waiting, and the row of swings beside it stood, their iron frames eaten by rust from years of neglect.

As she drew closer, a vision flickered before her eyes: a gaggle of little kids gathered here, playing house, their laughter echoing from a distant past.

In her ears, she could almost hear the childish voice of a young Callum. "This isn't just a game! When I grow up, I'm gonna marry Maren!"

She had been just a little thing herself back then, but those words, spoken with a milky lisp, had etched themselves into her memory.

But Callum had apparently forgotten, or else why would he be engaged to someone else now? A bitter self-mockery curled in her chest, and even the air she breathed tasted acrid.

Abruptly, her phone shrilled. It was her advisor from the research institute.

She picked up, and her advisor's voice came through. "The project's about to kick off. When are you getting here?"

"Professor, just give me a few more days. There are some things I need to sort out first—I can't focus on research like this."

The advisor replied, they exchanged a few more words, and then the line went dead.

Maren cast one last look at the sandpit, then turned on her heel and headed back to the Prescott mansion.

*****

The party was over, and the Prescott mansion had sunk back into stillness.

Clutching the ceramic doll, Maren planted herself beneath Callum's window and kept dialing his number, over and over.

But no one picked up. It just rang and rang.

The second-floor balcony was shrouded by thick drapes, hiding whatever was going on inside.

With each unanswered ring, the hope in her heart withered little by little.

In the end, out of options, she once again begged the Prescott family butler to fetch Callum.

But the butler shook his head. "Ms. Ellison, the young master gave explicit orders. He doesn't wish to see you. Please, just go home."

Maren hadn't expected him to go that far. Her throat tightened, choking back a sob, but she held her ground. "No. I have to see him. There are things I need to say. Please, just help me. Can you take me to him?"

The Ellison and Prescott families had always been close, so the butler couldn't bring himself to refuse her again. Reluctantly, he led her upstairs.

At the door to Callum's room.

Maren stared at the shut door, steeled herself, and raised her fist to knock. "Cal, I still have things to tell you... and something to give you." She had no idea if Callum would open the door. So she just stood there, pouring her heart out to the cold, unyielding door. "I still love you. I truly don't want to lose you! Give me one last chance, Cal. I'm dying to start over with you."

Suddenly, the door creaked open.

Maren's eyes lit up like stars, but the moment she saw who was inside, all that nervous anticipation froze solid.

It wasn't just Callum standing in the doorway, Nadia was right there beside him.

So... Nadia had heard every single word she'd just spoken?

A wave of scalding humiliation washed over Maren. All the things she'd longed to say to Callum jammed in her throat, and she quickly hid the ceramic doll behind her back.

"I told you to stop clinging to me." Callum's icy voice yanked her back.

She lifted her gaze and met his eyes—those deep, mesmerizing eyes, before she forced herself to find her voice. "I don't believe it, Cal. If you didn't have me in your heart, you wouldn't have kept my contact info for seven whole years."

"Then watch closely." Callum shut her down cold.

He whipped out his phone, and right before Maren's eyes, he added her to his blacklist.