Elena’s pov”Hey, you.”
Caleb stood in my doorway, in his casual dressing.
Plain white tees and dark jeans.
Nothing dramatic.
But his hair… he dyed it.
Blonde.
Bright enough to notice, soft enough not to look stupid.
I wasn’t surprised he pulled it off.
I realized I hadn’t heard his voice since the gala.
I hadn’t even let myself think about the moment we shared, I didn’t have time to.
My life had been spiraling fast enough.
Just two weeks.
Two weeks that felt like two years.
I glanced at the coffee table where my glass of wine sat.
I poured it the moment I got home, hoping it would help me relax.
It didn’t.
It barely even took the edge off.
I pushed it aside before he noticed.
He stepped inside, closing the door.
We stood there, a few feet apart, like neither of us knew who should move first.
I squinted.
“Your hair. You dyed it.”
He winced, running a hand through it.
“Yeah… the boys dared me. Long story involving cards and tequila.”
A dry laugh slipped out.
“When did you get back?” I asked, forcing a smile.
“Yesterday morning. Flew in from Tokyo.” His eyes didn’t leave my face.
“Oh yeah. The tournament. How was it?”
”Went well.” He paused.
“I texted when I landed. You didn’t respond.”
Here we go.
“I know. Sorry, work has been…”
”You don’t have to explain.” He held my gaze until I couldn’t hold his.
“Have you been crying?”
My breath caught.
He saw through the makeup I put on to cover my eye bags.
I turned away, heading to the kitchen just to be anywhere but in front of him.
“Do you want something to drink?”
”I don’t want a drink, Elena.”
I stopped.
“Okay…What do you want? I have other…”
”I want you to tell me what’s wrong.”
A broken laugh slipped out before I could stop it.
I didn’t even know where to start.
He stepped closer, leaning against the counter, eyes fixed on mine.
Waiting.
“I haven’t spoken to you since the gala,” I said.
“That was two weeks ago.”
”I know.”
”And you just… waited?
Why didn’t you reach out?”
”I did,” he said calmly.
“You just didn’t have my time.”
“You could have called,” I whispered.
“Demanded to know why I disappeared. Why I wasn’t…”
He cut in gently, shaking his head.
“Would that have helped?”
”Maybe.
I don’t know.” I rubbed my temples.
“I don’t know anything anymore.”
Caleb pushed off the counter, stepping closer.
“Elena, talk to me. What’s wrong?”
So I told him.
About my aunt Catherine.
The will.
The dinner.
The months of manipulation.
He listened quietly, his frustration simmering under the surface.
When I finally stopped, the room felt quiet.
Finally he spoke.
“So your aunt sabotaged your marriage on purpose?” he asked tightly.
“Yes.”
His control snapped.
“Where does she live?”
I almost laughed.
Almost.
“What are you going to do, fight my aunt?”
He scoffed.
“Someone should.”
”Caleb…”
”No, Elena, this is insane.”
I walked back into the living room and sank onto the couch, exhausted.
“There’s more,” I whispered.
“Damien works for me now.”
Caleb froze.
He stood in the kitchen doorway, staring like he didn’t hear me right.
“What?”
”I took over his company.
He now works at Sterling Global.”
He didn’t respond.
He just stared, stunned.
“So you’re going to see him every day.”
”Probably.”
His jaw flexed.
“And the divorce?”
My voice came out small.
“He still won’t sign the papers.”
Something dark flashed in his eyes, sharp and unfiltered.
I recognized it.
Jealousy.
He walked toward me slowly until he was standing right in front of me, forcing me to tilt my head up.
“He won’t sign,” he repeated flatly.
“Huh.”
”He says he can’t lose me.”
Caleb dragged a hand down his face, looking anywhere, but at me.
“So you’re still married to him.”
”Technically yes, but…”
He snapped his gaze back to me.
“There’s no ‘technically,’ Elena. You’re either married to him or you’re not.”
I stood and moved toward him slowly, already knowing what he was thinking.
“It’s not what you think, Caleb.”
His eyes locked on mine.
“And what do I think, Elena?”
My throat tightened.
“That I still want to be married to him…”
”I think,” Caleb cut in, stepping closer, “that you keep trying to convince yourself you’re done with him… but you’re not.”
The words hit like a slap.
“That’s not true.”
He gave a disbelieving laugh.
“Elena, you talk about him like he still owns a part of you. And now you see him daily? What am I supposed to think?”
“It’s always complicated with him.” His voice cracked.
“And I’m always the one standing on the sidelines, trying to act like it doesn’t bother me.”
”Caleb…”
He moved closer again, eyes raw and tired.
“Tell me I’m wrong,” he said softly.
“Tell me you don’t still love him.”
My breath shook.
“I don’t…”
”But you do,” he said quietly.
“You’re still tied to him in ways you don’t want to admit.”
I looked down, blinking the tears away.
My chest ached.
“You don’t understand,” I whispered.
Something shifted in him.
The anger melted instantly.
He stepped toward me slowly like moving any faster would break me.
“Elena…” His voice was so gentle it broke something in me.
I looked up and finally met his eyes.
The air thickened instantly.
He leaned the slightest bit closer, close enough that I felt his breath on mine.
“Caleb…” My voice shook.
He closed his eyes like the sound hurt him.
“I shouldn’t.”
He moved to step back, but my fingers moved before my brain did, gripping his shirt, pulling him closer.
“Don’t,” I breathed.
He opened his eyes, and God, the want in them nearly undid me.
Caleb was in love with me.
And I knew it.
“Elena… you’re vulnerable right now. Everything with your aunt, with Damien… I don’t want to be the person who takes advantage of that.”
”What if I want you to?” I whispered.
His breath hitched.
“Don’t say that unless you mean it.”
I tugged him closer.
“Tell me you don’t want this.”
His hands hovered at my waist, trembling.
“You know I do,” he said, voice breaking.
For a second, I thought he’d give in and kiss me anyway.
But he didn’t.
He took a step back.
Then another, his hands dropping to his sides.
“I should go,” he said, roughly.
“Caleb…” It came out like a plea.
He shook his head, breathing hard.
“I want this. I want us. But not like this.”
I swallowed, my chest tight.
“You need to handle everything else first,” he said.
“You’re not thinking clearly and I won’t take advantage of that.”
He moved to the door, breathing like the distance hurt.
He paused with his hand on the doorknob, and glanced back.
“I’ll call you tomorrow.”
And then he walked out.