Love That Came Too Late

My boyfriend passed away from illness. Before he died, he asked me to look after his only younger brother—Callum Ressler.

I put Callum through college, and helped him build his company from the ground up.

Then one night, after a round of drinking at some work function, he ended up in bed with me.

While I wrestled with what we were to each other, I noticed something on his office desk: a photo of me, framed neatly beside an engagement ring.

My heart stirred.

I pushed open the lounge door, ready to finally talk about us.

But just as the door creaked open, a white camisole fell at my feet.

I froze.

Callum pulled the covers tightly around a shocked female assistant.

"Diana, ever heard of knocking?" he snapped.

Face pale, limbs suddenly uncoordinated, I started backing out. But the assistant's timid voice stopped me. "Diana… could you hand me my clothes?"

I ignored the hostility behind her eyes, grabbed the garment, tossed it onto the bed, and left in a hurry.

Once I stepped outside the company building, Callum called. "Diana, you should really stop barging into my room like that."

I laughed and agreed. From that moment on, I never stepped into his world again.

I came home and drew the curtains tightly shut.

Not a sliver of light could seep into the living room. The dimness calmed me, made it easier to breathe.

I curled up on the sofa and dialed my agent's number.

"Samuel," I said quietly, "you suggested I study abroad to refine my technique. I'll go."

Samuel Harper laughed, genuinely pleased. While praising my bright future, he couldn't help but ask, "What about Callum? Can you really leave him behind?"

"You always said he seemed young, like he still needed looking after," he added.

I pulled the blanket tighter around myself.

"He's grown up now," I murmured. "He doesn't need me anymore."

I drifted for a moment, caught in the haze of memory.

When my boyfriend Sean Ressler died, his last and only concern was me—and his little brother, Callum Ressler.

I had no family of my own. Callum was alone too. Loving him, making him the center of my world, gave me a reason to keep going.

After that absurd night, I'd woken before him. I stared at him for a moment, then bolted.

That was the first time it truly hit me—he was no longer a boy.

But the way those feelings shifted overnight left me unmoored. I couldn't sort any of it out, so I left. Traveled. Tried to clear my mind.

Still, Callum called me. He asked where I had gone, as if nothing had changed.

I didn't realize then that he hadn't figured things out—he had simply forgotten.

He had someone else now.

And me? I was no longer someone who had any place in his life.

After hanging up with my agent, I called Callum.

He picked up quickly. "Diana, what's up?"

I had meant to tell him