"She's dead!"

Chapter Five: 1...2...3 Words.

Things were going well for Callum and I. We had been seeing each other for a good four months and decided it was time we met each other's parents. I have always hated introducing anyone new to my parents - friends, colleagues and especially boyfriends. My mother was often very hostile towards new people and my father was just down right embarrassing.

I was particularly nervous about introducing Callum to my parents because I had real feelings for him, I was hoping he would be the guy I married. I was also pretty nervous because I was convinced that he would have the most perfect, humble, caring parents and would be completely shocked by mine. Still, I arranged a dinner at my parent's house - which my sister had offered to cook - and invited Callum round to enjoy it.

My sister, India, is an amazing cook, and works as a sous chef . Although she is a good 5 years older than me, she is and always has been my best friend. I felt terrible about hiding the relationship between Callum and I from India, so I told her a few days after we became official. She had always been the first to meet my new boyfriends, and I had always been the first to meet hers. In fact, I introduced her to her amazing husband. India was more than pleased when I finally decided to introduce Callum to our parents and she insisted on cooking the meal.

I stayed over at Callum's the night before the big dinner, he seemed so calm and collected. Why? Why wasn't he nervous? Why on Earth wasn't he sweating buckets... I was. Something happened that night, and it changed everything - it was the night that we finally realised that we would have a future together.

"Cal, are you sure it's the right time to meet each other's parents?" I asked him, as we lay in bed together. "Of course beau, aren't you?" he replied, stroking my cheek.

I paused for a second, took a deep breath, and continued, "I'm not sure. My parents can be... full on." He squeezed me tightly and said, "I don't care if your parents ask me to fly to the moon and back. I'd do it for you. I'd do anything for you beau."

He pulled up my chin and kissed me softly on the lips. I swear, he had rehearsed every single trick in the book one thousand times over.

I giggled and asked, "Why do you call me that? Why do you call me beau?"

He looked at me, sort of like he expected me to know why. He said, "Beau means beautiful in French, and you are. You are extremely beautiful Tahlia Anderson. Extremely."

"Well, sh*t." I thought to myself, "He is just everything."

"I love you." I announced; his face became overcome with shock.

I had never said those words to anyone outside my family. None of my other boyfriends had ever made me feel special enough to say those words.

Callum paused. I felt his tight grip on me loosen, I felt his breathing pattern change and I felt the touch from his gentle hands become harsh and strident. Silence. 

I thought that would be it. He didn't say it back, so I thought that would be it. I thought I was coming on too strong, being too clingy. 

"You don't have to say it back right now Cal, or ever. If you don't feel the same way, just say so." I whispered, struggling to hold back my tears.

Callum got out of the bed, without saying a single word, and left the bedroom. 

I was completely distraught, he had shattered my heart. I couldn't have imagined him hurting me more than he had hurt me at that moment. I lay in his large bed, rolling between the white sheets. I was bewildered, embarrassed, angry - yet I could not bring myself to leave. He just had a way of making me want to stay, even without trying.

He returned to the bedroom, still without saying a word. He got back into the bed, and noticed me sobbing my heart out. I could not bring myself to face him, so I turned outwards.

All of a sudden, I felt a familiar pair of warm and loving arms engulf my body from behind. The heat leaving his body, and warming mine, was extremely comforting.

"Stop crying Tahlia." he whispered in my ear.

I whimpered in reply, "Do you love me Cal? Do you love me?"

He kissed my neck once and purred "One - I."

I was extremely confused, but butterflies flew around my stomach - so I knew, deep down, that I was into it.

He kissed my neck again, but twice - he then purred again, "Two - love."

I knew where this was going. He was so unconventional. Of course he had to find the most subverted way to confess the three sacred words.

He kissed my neck thrice more - he then whispered, "Three - you."

I turned around in the bed, so I was once again facing inwards. I looked him deep in the eyes and asked, "Do you mean that?".

He looked right back at me and declared, "I love you Tahlia. I love you."

I lunged forward, before slowly leaning in and planting a sweet kiss on his lips.

Love. Just saying the word is enough to make me shiver. So why? Why was I so desperate for his love, why did I want him to love me so badly? Why did I allow those 3 words to change my life so drastically? Why?