Stolen Identity: Mute Heiress-Chapter 378: Home

The rest of the flight slipped by gently, like time had decided to be kind to them.

Emily and Callan talked about everything and nothing. About shared childhood memories, silly stories from high school, dreams they once had and dreams they were only just brave enough to say out loud. Sometimes Callan would talk, his voice low and calm, and Emily would listen with her chin resting on her palm. Other times, Emily would ramble, her hands moving as she spoke, and Callan would just watch her with a soft smile, like he was memorising her.

They played simple games on his laptop. Scrabble, chess, ludo, car race, etc. Callan was terrible at Guess-the-song, and she laughed every time he guessed wrong. He pretended to sulk, then leaned close and whispered the wrong answer again just to make her laugh harder.

They shared earphones and listened to music, their shoulders touching, sometimes leaning into each other without even realising it. When a slow song came on, Callan squeezed her fingers gently, and Emily squeezed back.

They started a serial movie together. At some point, Emily curled her legs beneath her and rested her head against his shoulder. Callan shifted slightly so she’d be more comfortable and kissed the top of her head without thinking. She smiled but didn’t look up.

By the time the captain announced their descent, Callan felt like something had changed deeply between them.

Emily felt it too.

She looked at Callan and felt it in her chest, that warm, steady certainty that their relationship was stronger now than before.

Whatever fear or doubts she had, had greatly lessened now.

When the plane landed in Husla, she felt almost reluctant to stand up. She wished they could remain on air like this in their own world.

They walked out side by side, Callan’s hand resting possessively on the small of her back as he guided her outside.

Outside the terminal, it was dark and his driver was already waiting.

"Welcome back, sir," the driver said politely.

Callan nodded. "Good to be back," he said as he opened the car door for Emily and held it as she got in.

She smiled at him, heart full for reasons she couldn’t fully explain.

The drive to his house was quiet but comfortable. Emily rested her head on his shoulder, her hand enclosed in his.

When they arrived, Callan stepped out first and came around to her side again, offering his hand. She took it, feeling happy and cherished.

The moment they walked into the house together, Emily froze, and Callan with her.

In the living room, a blonde in her late twenties sat on the couch legs crossed and wearing an oversized sweatshirt. A glass of wine rested in her hand and a movie played on the screen.

She turned when she heard their footsteps.

Her face lit up. "Allan!" she said, standing quickly. "I was beginning to wonder where you went. Your line hasn’t been connecting."

Callan snapped out of his shock instantly. "What are you doing here, Aria?" Callan asked, his heart racing as he hoped this wouldn’t cause any problems with Emily.

"What do you mean by that? Did you forget our rendezvous?" She asked with a breezy laugh as she stopped in front of them.

Emily didn’t say a word. She watched as the lady embraced Callan and gave him a smacking kiss before glancing at Emily.

"You’re Emily, right? Callan’s cousin. Don’t be surprised I know about you. I make it my business knowing such details about the men in my life," she said with a sweet smile, holding out a hand.

Emily’s grip tightened on the strap of her handbag but she managed to force a smile. "Callan is a man in your life?"

"Aria," Callan called, shaking his head.

Aria’s smile wavered as she looked from Emily to Callan, then back again. "Am I missing something?"

"Emily is my girlfriend," Callan explained, and Emily walked away without another word.

Callan. "Emily—"

She didn’t stop.

"Em, please," he said, hurrying after her. "I’m sorry. This was a past arrangement. Before you even came to Husla."

She turned on him, her gray eyes flashing angrily. "Go and deal with your mess," she said coldly. "Leave me alone."

She walked into the guest room and shut the door.

Callan stood there for a second, then turned back to the woman.

"What are you doing here, Aria?" he asked annoyed.

She frowned. "What do you mean? We agreed I’d spend my two weeks in Husla here. With you. I wouldn’t have had access to your house if you didn’t give it, would I?"

"That was before," he said. "Plans changed. Everything changed. Besides, I didn’t expect that you to turn up at my place when you didn’t hear from me."

She laughed without humour. "Are you saying my inability to reach your line was deliberate on your end? You blocked my line and expected me to ’get the drift’?"

"I thought you would," he admitted shamefacedly.

She shook her head. "That’s childish, Callan. And I’m honestly disappointed. The least you could do was take my call and tell me you didn’t want me here anymore. Instead of treating me like I’m some stupid bitch forcing myself on you."

"I’m sorry," he said.

She scoffed. "To hell with you and your apology."

She marched toward the guest room, grabbed her bag, and left without another word.

Callan waited until the door closed behind her before he ran a hand through his hair and headed to Emily’s room.

He knocked but she didn’t answer, so he opened the door and walked in.

Emily was organizing her closet, her jaw tight.

"She’s gone," he said softly. "I’m sorry about that."

Emily didn’t respond.

"Please talk to me, Em," he said.

Emily kept unfolding and folding the clothes.

He stepped closer and gently held the shirt she was trying to fold. "Em."

"Let go," she said quietly, tugging at it.

"I can’t," he replied. "Not until you talk to me."

She turned, eyes bright with hurt. "I don’t want to talk to you right now, Cal. I do not want to say something I might regret."

"Please, Em. I just had the best thirty-six hours flight of my life with you and I don’t want it to be ruined over something like this. I’m sorry it happened. Considering my past, this was bound to happen sooner or later..."

"No," she cut in. "It happened because you haven’t changed."

"I have," he said quickly.

"You haven’t," she replied. "You treat every girl the same way. That girl just now probably felt exactly how I felt all those years ago when you brought someone else home right after you deflowered me."

He flinched as though she hit him, and she regretted saying that but didn’t take it back.

"Both situations are different," Callan said quietly.

"They’re not," she said. "They’re exactly the same and both happened because you’d rather avoid issues instead of confronting them like an adult. Let me ask you, how many of your girlfriends have you broken up with since you decided you wanted to be with me?"

He was silent.

She nodded. "Exactly what I thought. I’m pretty sure you blocked their lines or you’re probably just avoiding their calls and hoping they’d get the message one way or the other. You’re too much of a coward to tell them you’re now in a relationship and you’re no longer interested in your fling with them. Or maybe you can’t tell them off because you’re hoping you’d have access to them whenever you want. What do I know?"

"That’s not fair, Em," he said.

"It’s not fair to me or them either," she snapped at him. "What I’m not going to be is the girl you use indirectly to send break-up messages to others. If you’re going to be with me, then man up and do what is right."

He swallowed. "Okay."

"Okay what? What does that mean?"

Without responding, he took out his phone. He dialed a number, while Emily watched with a frown.

"Hello, Kia," he said into the phone. "I’m in a relationship now, so our arrangement is over. I don’t want to see you anymore."

He hung up, dialed another, and did the same thing several more times while Emily watched him, stunned.

"Just how many girls were you dating?"

"I wasn’t dating them. They were flings," he said quietly.

She sighed, rubbing her temple. "I don’t know how to deal with this. I don’t think I can deal with this."

Callan stepped closer to her. "I understand," he said. "And that’s why I want us to do couple counseling together. I want this to work."

Her eyes filled with tears. "I want it to work too. But my heart hurts. Thinking about all the ladies you’ve been with and all of this. I know you’ve been with others but now that I’m with you it hurts differently," she cried, touching her chest.

He stepped forward and wrapped her in his arms. She didn’t resist.

"I’m sorry," he whispered. "I lived irresponsibly. I hurt you. I promise I’ll do better. I’ll be better. Please don’t give up on me now."

She rested her forehead against his chest and wrapped her arms around him.

She wasn’t sure how she was going to ever stop feeling the ache in her heart, but she hoped the counseling or therapy would do it.