Page 25 of Callow

There wasn’t a spare minute in the day to let the frustration, anger, sadness, and overwhelm completely wash through me.

But when you put off a crying session for too long, occasionally it came out of nowhere, pulling you under the waves, leaving you helpless but to let it keep crashing.

“Hey…” Callow said, voice surprisingly soft. “Hey, it’s gonna be alright,” he said, his hand going to press into the center of my back.

Which only made the dam burst fully open.

This wasn’t a dainty cry.

It was a loud, snotty, sobbing cry that shook my whole body and released dying animal type noises out of me.

“Okay, alright,” Callow said.

Then his arms were reaching for me, pulling me until my legs were over his lap, and my head was against his chest.

I turned my face into his chest, breathing in his crisp, spicy scent as his arms went around me.

It had been so long since I felt a man’s arms around me. The comfort of it, the security of it, only made me cry harder.

Callow, the poor soul, didn’t try to say anything. He just held onto me as I purged all of the feelings I’d been dragging along with me for far too long.

When the tears finally stopped pouring and I managed to catch my breath, the embarrassment had me starting to pull away.

Only for something in the corner of my eye to catch my attention.

And there was my daughter.

Watching me.

Looking horrified.

“Hey,” Cali said, coming up behind Daphne. “Let’s give your mom a couple more minutes, okay?” she asked, reaching to steer Daphne away as she looked at me, eyes wide.

“Great,” I said, wiping hard at my cheeks as I sniffled.

“Maybe it’s good,” Callow said.

“What?” I asked, not able to look at him after that little breakdown.

“That she sees her actions have impact,” he said, shrugging.

“Maybe,” I agreed.

I’d always tried to be stoic for Daphne. I think it was a way of overcompensating since she would have no one else to go to if I was emotionally fragile. There was no one coming to entertain her while I broke down. So I just… kept it together.

Even when we were days away from being evicted. Even when the lights got cut off or I was trying to make twenty dollars feed us for a week. Even when I was sick, exhausted, anxious, depressed. I had to be that stable person for my kid.

So aside from the occasional time when I was physically hurt—like when I’d broken my wrist or sliced off the tip of my finger—I didn’t let myself cry in front of her.

I thought it was for the best.

But maybe Callow was right. Maybe she needed to see that her actions had both physical and emotional consequences for others aside from her.

Callow’s bullet wound from saving her.

My tears of just absolute overwhelm.

“Things are gonna be alright, Sabrina,” Callow said, voice like a soothing balm over sore wounds.