18. Caleb
CALEB
Iwatched Jiya as my helicopter descended toward the helipad.
She looked professional in a burgundy, form-fitted pantsuit, the colour rich against her skin. Her strong posture and confident stance reflected the authority she carried. Her hair flew across her face, brushing against her cheeks in the wind created by the spinning blades.
I still couldn’t read her. Even after all these years, she remained just as mysterious to me as she had been the first time I worked with her.
“Welcome back again, Mr. Evans!” she said, putting her hand out.
Mr. Evans? She had never called me that before.
The formality landed cold and deliberate, like a line drawn between us with distance.
I wasn’t about to let it stay that way.
“Thanks,” I replied as I shook her hand. “Caleb is fine.”
Her touch was soft but strong, and the contact sent a jolt through me.
Memories of her hands on my body surfaced. I cleared my throat quickly and let go.
But it wasn’t just that moment.
I hadn’t stopped thinking about her. Not since I’d first seen her again two weeks ago.
I still remember the way she had laughed at the fair, running after her children, dancing with them, and clicking pictures, as though the world hadn’t touched her. As though nothing had broken her.
And then—
Dinner with my family in Vancouver.
My chest had tightened the moment I saw my nieces sitting at the table.
“So, the meeting with the Harris developers… You confirmed without checking with us?” Simon, my brother, asked. “You haven’t said much since you got back.”
“I was expecting some sort of report from you regarding the project… or at least an email,” Sophia, my sister, added. Her blonde hair had grown quite long, and she had tied it back in a ponytail. “But nothing. I thought we could discuss it together before you approved the company as an investor.”
“Sorry,” I said quickly. “I know I should have consulted with you guys first, but it was such a good project, and they had more investors. I didn’t want to lose the opportunity presented to me.” I lied.
I felt uncomfortable lying to them, but I couldn’t help it.
If my family learned the truth about Jiya, they would pull away from the company immediately, and I would lose my only chance to uncover what had really happened.
I needed to face my demons and get my questions answered before I could tell Liam or my family anything.
“The contract has come through, and I’ll email you the presentation from the meeting,” I said, looking at my siblings while trying to avoid any more awkward questions from them.
“But how come you changed your mind about this project when you were the one who doubted its potential?” Cat, my youngest sister, asked, her brown eyes looking directly at me, searching for answers.
I knew I had to respond carefully. My youngest sister knew me better than anyone else, and she could read me with unsettling accuracy.
Looking directly at her, I said, “It was Liam Harris’ brother’s dream before he passed away. He’s trying to complete it on his behalf.”
It was partly true. I had only lied about the relationship of the actual person who wanted to fulfill the dream. A white lie.
That thought made me reflect on the man himself—the brother. I found myself wondering what kind of man he had been. Was he a good husband and father? What kind of relationship had he shared with Jiya? Had they been happy together? Had she loved him the way she once claimed to love me?
“That’s very big of his brother to do so,” my father said, his voice filled with approval. “It’s a wonderful tribute and gesture. Good decision, son.”
I finally stopped tapping my foot beneath the table and let out a slow breath. I had successfully handled the situation and managed to dodge the truth. But I knew I would have to continue doing so for a while longer, at least until I had succeeded in my mission.
That thought had stayed with me long after that night.
And now, standing in front of her again on the helipad, it hit harder than it should have.
She wasn’t Nyah anymore.
She was Jiya.
A partner.
A mother.
A widow.
A woman who had built an entire life I knew nothing about in the years we had been apart.
And yet…
Watching her now, I couldn’t reconcile the woman in front of me with the one I had known.
Or the one I thought I had.
As Jiya and I walked toward the door together, took the elevator downstairs, and entered the car waiting for us, I knew it was time to start my investigation.
I had noticed her wedding and engagement rings, which she still wore.
A year had passed since her husband's death, yet the diamonds remained firmly on her finger.
Maybe she still loved him, or maybe she couldn't let go of what he had left behind.
With Jiya, I wasn't sure what to believe anymore. Every answer seemed to raise two more questions.
“The site is not too far away,” she said. “Just a twenty-minute drive.”
“Great,” I answered.
Being in such proximity to her set my nerves on edge. The faint scent of her perfume drifted toward me. It was the same fragrance my fiancée had tried not so long ago, and my chest constricted.
It had been years since Jiya and I had sat in a car together like this, sharing the same confined space.
Part of me wanted to look at her, to study her face, to reach out and hold her hand the way I once had.
I didn’t understand why those impulses surfaced now, but they did.
Instead of giving in to them, I turned my eyes toward the window and rubbed my finger along my lip, trying to distract myself.
I felt guilty lying to Tatiana. I felt guilty lying to my family.
The only person who knew about Jiya was Greg, and even with him, I hadn’t shared the full truth.
I had been honest about some things, but kept my true and confusing feelings buried.
In just two weeks, I had changed from the man I used to be into someone I barely recognized.
All because of Jiya.
Seeing her again had unravelled something inside me, turning me into a vengeful and dishonest son, brother, and fiancé.
How in God’s name was I going to work with her for the next three months before my wedding when the very first meeting caused so much havoc in me?
My feelings and emotions needed to be kept under control.
I needed to remind myself of what she had done to my family and to me.
That memory had to stay at the front of my mind, because it was the only thing that would help me maintain distance.
When we arrived at the site, we stepped out of the car together.
A vast grass-covered patch of land stretched out before us, open and undeveloped, separated by a small river that cut across the property like a natural boundary.
“On this side will be the townhomes for the families,” Jiya explained, pointing to the left side of the river. “This side will have the apartment buildings for the seniors.”
I nodded, listening.
“When it comes to marketing the project, we will first advertise it in such a way to make sure that families with grandparents can be accommodated and prioritized,” she continued. “The price will reflect accordingly. When do you think you will be able to start construction?”
“First, a percentage of the advance and then construction,” I replied, looking directly at her.
“No problem. I’ll ask Liam to do the needful.”
“How come you can’t do it yourself?” I asked. “I thought you were a partner in the company.”
She jerked her head, raising her eyebrows.
“It’s his company, which his parents left to him and my late husband,” she said.
Hearing her say the word ‘husband’ made my stomach burn.
“This project was Cole’s dream, and I’m trying to make it a reality,” she continued, crossing her arms as she faced me. “So to answer your question, even though I am a partner, it is still his company, and I will discuss it with him.”
I scoffed. “Sure.”
“My marketing team will contact yours to start designing the plan, and I will wait for the construction details from your end,” she said in a firm, professional tone.
“Okay.”
“Any other questions?”
I looked at her, my sunglasses shielding my eyes from her view. Her own eyes were hidden behind dark lenses as well, making it impossible for me to tell what she was thinking or where she was looking. I assumed she was watching me just as closely as I was watching her.
My gaze travelled over her from head to toe.
Her work ethic hadn’t changed at all. She was still professional, organized, and direct, the same driven woman I had known years ago. That part of her would never change, and despite everything between us, I found myself impressed.
“Nope,” I said, sliding my hands into my pockets.
This was our first official meeting, and it had gone smoothly. I could only hope I would be able to keep my emotions under control for the sake of everyone involved.