Jiya
The house quieted down after Elle and her family left in the morning.
I missed them terribly, and so did the children.
I had told Elle and Karl everything about Caleb reappearing in my life, and although Elle thought it felt unreal, I chose not to see it as anything more than a coincidence.
History was not going to repeat itself, and I would make damn sure of that.
Needing to distract myself with work, I decided to check on the cafés and visited the restaurant.
“You seem to be doing better after that crazy weekend,” Jack said as I walked into his office. A knowing smile tugged at his lips as he poured coffee into a mug and handed it to me. “You look happier.” His eyebrows lifted slightly. “Does this new man have anything to do with it?”
I jerked my head back. “The new man?”
“You know,” he continued casually. “The one from the party.”
“No, no,” I said quickly. “There’s no new man and definitely not him.”
Seeing Caleb at the party filled me with warmth because I never thought he would actually come.
Jack sighed softly.
“Jiya, it’s okay to move on, you know. You don’t need to be a widow your whole life. You can love again. You are a young woman.”
“I know, Jack. But trust me when I say not him.”
Jack leaned back in his chair.
“Why not? You have an allergy to nice men?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.
“Because it’s complicated.”
He snorted. “Everything with you is complicated.”
I rolled my eyes, but my grip tightened slightly around my mug.
“Jiya,” he said more gently this time, “I saw the way he looked at you.”
I stared down at the table. “That doesn’t mean anything.”
“And I saw the way you looked at him when you thought nobody was paying attention.”
Heat crept into my face immediately.
Jack pointed at me knowingly. “There it is.”
“Stop,” I muttered, fighting the fluttering feeling building in my stomach.
“I’m serious,” he continued. “The man couldn’t take his eyes off you at the party. Even Maureen noticed.”
“That’s exactly why this is a bad idea.”
“Why?”
I let out a slow breath and looked away.
“Because he’s not just some guy, Jack.”
A quiet pause stretched between us for a moment.
Then I finally looked back at him.
“He’s Emma’s father,” I said quietly. “The one I told you about.”
“What?” His eyes widened, and his mouth fell open. “He’s the one you told me about?”
I nodded.
Jack leaned back slowly, staring at me as though he were trying to piece everything together in his head.
“Well,” he muttered under his breath, dragging a hand over his face, “that explains a lot.”
“Jack—”
“No, listen to me for a second,” he interrupted gently. “I don’t think you’re going to like what I’m about to say, but I’m saying it anyway.”
I already knew where this was heading.
“He came back into your life after all these years,” Jack continued. “Not only that, but he’s spending time with the kids, with you, with all of you together.” He shook his head slightly. “That doesn’t feel random to me.”
I let out a tired breath.
“Jack—”
“I’m serious, kid. Maybe this is fate. Maybe life is giving the two of you another chance to fix what was broken.”
“No,” I said firmly. “I’m not going to break up his engagement just because we share a daughter.”
“Aren’t you at least going to tell him about his daughter?”
My stomach twisted as I stared down at the table before answering.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want Emma to become the reason he comes back to me,” I admitted quietly. “If he chooses me, I need to know it’s because he actually wants me. Not because he feels obligated to do the right thing.”
“So you do want him back?” Jack asked, and a slow, knowing smile appeared on his face.
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but the words never came.
Because deep down, I already knew the truth.
No matter how many times I tried to push Caleb away, he kept finding his way back into my life.
Again and again.
And a small part of me had stopped fighting it.
Soon after, I left the restaurant, and without meaning to, I found myself driving to the cemetery.
I had brought the children and the dogs to visit Cole’s grave on the morning of Lucas’s birthday.
Lucas carefully placed the flowers down before whispering, “It’s my birthday, Dad. I wish you were here.”
The moment his voice cracked, Milo let out a soft whimper beside him while Oreo pressed against Lucas’s leg as though trying to comfort him.
My throat constricted painfully at the sight.
I pulled both Lucas and Emma into my arms before we said a quiet prayer for Cole, Eva, and Chloe together.
Afterward, the rest of the day became a blur of party preparations.
Karl took the children out while Elle and I finished decorating, and later Jack and Maureen arrived with the Superman cake I had ordered.
By mid-afternoon, the backyard had filled with children from Lucas’s school and the neighbourhood.
The surprise worked perfectly.
The look on Lucas’s face when Karl brought him home, and he saw the decorations, gifts, and waiting friends lit up the entire house.
Karena called shortly after to wish him a happy birthday. She apologized for missing the party because she was feeling unwell, and I told her not to worry, wished her a quick recovery, and made a mental note to send some cake over later.
Reaching the cemetery now, I stepped out of the car and headed toward Cole’s grave.
“He bought gifts even for Emma… his daughter,” I whispered as I stood in front of his grave.
I had found myself watching Caleb at the party while he played with the children and helped Karl hand out party favours, fitting into the chaos of the backyard far too naturally.
When he had walked to his car, turned and waved, I lifted my hand automatically before quickly forcing myself to look unaffected when Elle and Karl glanced my way.
“We’re getting along,” I whispered. “Trying to pretend our history no longer matters.”
Tears blurred my vision.
“I still miss you every day. I’m not ready to let you go. And now Caleb is back, and I don’t know what to do with that.”
I closed my eyes and sobbed.
Then, through the wind, I heard it.
“Let go.”
My eyes flew open, and I looked around quickly, but no one was there.
“Let go,” the voice whispered again, barely louder than the breeze.
A warmth spread through my body, starting in my chest and moving outward into my arms and legs. The tightness that had gripped me for so long began to loosen, as if invisible hands were lifting the weight from my shoulders.
It felt like an embrace.
My breathing steadied, and my heart settled into a calm rhythm.
When I returned home, I sat in front of the mirror at my dresser and stared at my left hand—the hand Cole had held when he proposed to me. The hand he had slipped the ring onto when he made me his wife.
I reached out and touched our wedding photograph, tracing the outline of his face with trembling fingers.
Memories of his illness tried to surface, but I pushed them away.
He would not want me to remember him that way.
He would want me to remember love.
I knew then what I had to do.
Slowly, carefully, I removed the rings from my finger and placed them inside a small golden box. I took his letter from beneath my pillow and set it beside them before closing the lid.
Then I walked to the closet.
One piece at a time, I began removing his clothes and shoes, folding them gently and placing them into boxes.
Tears streamed down my cheeks as I worked, but with every item I packed away, the weight inside my chest began to lift.
Little by little, breath by breath, I felt lighter.
It was now Friday, the weekend before Caleb’s birthday.
Dressed in a white pantsuit paired with a navy-blue blouse, I looked prepared for the noon meeting, at least on the outside.
It was an important one with the contractor, Caleb, Liam, and me.
We were discussing materials, colours, interiors, and other details that would shape the future of the project.
I had spent the week preparing with Caleb, reading documents late into the night and reviewing samples until my eyes burned.
Geeta had promised to take care of the children until I returned from the city. She planned to take them grocery shopping afterward and then to the mall.
“We’re going to the farm tomorrow. Are you guys excited?” I asked while buttering Lucas’s toast.
Since the summer holidays had started, I was trying to make sure there was always something planned for the weekends.
“Are there cows, Mama?” Emma asked, gripping the edge of the table.
“Yes, sweetheart.”
“Pigs too?”
“Yes.”
“Chickens?”
“Yes, baby. Lots of animals.”
I sighed softly, smiling despite the endless questions.
Emma and Lucas had made Caleb a thank-you card for all the presents he had bought them and another for his birthday, both filled with colourful drawings and crooked letters. To thank him properly, I had bought him a wallet engraved with his initials and his favourite chocolates.
Grabbing my bag, I mentally checked for the folder, the gifts, and the cards before kissing the children quickly as they ran through the living room. I crouched beside Milo and Oreo next, scratching behind their ears and kissing the tops of their heads while their tails wagged around me.
I stepped outside and turned to lock the door.
A sharp crack split through the house.
Then came a scream.
My heart slammed against my ribs.
I ran to the kitchen and froze.
The dogs were barking furiously, darting anxiously around the room while Geeta stood there screaming, her hands shaking helplessly in front of her. Emma’s eyes were squeezed shut as she cried hysterically, her tiny body trembling.
Lucas had gone completely still, his face drained of colour.
Everything slipped from my hands and crashed onto the floor.
Blood gushed out from Emma’s forehead.
She had hit her head against the sharp edge of the kitchen island.
Fear shot through me.
I grabbed a kitchen towel, dropped to my knees, and pressed it firmly against the wound. Blood immediately soaked through the fabric.
“I’m sorry, Mama,” Lucas cried, his voice breaking. “We were running, and she slipped. I’m sorry.”
“Ma... maa... maa... maaa,” Emma wailed in between sobs, her cries piercing straight through my heart like tiny daggers.
“Baby, it’s okay,” I said to Lucas, forcing my voice to stay steady even though terror clawed at my insides. “Accidents happen, okay? It’s not your fault.”
The amount of blood nearly shattered my composure, but I forced myself to stay calm.
I looked at Geeta. “Grab the keys, lock the door and get in the car.”
Scooping Emma into my arms, I ran outside and carefully strapped her into the car seat while she cried uncontrollably.
Geeta rushed out with Lucas moments later.
“Keep pressure on the towel,” I instructed as Geeta climbed into the back seat beside Emma.
She nodded immediately.
I strapped Lucas in, ran around the car, and slid into the driver’s seat.
Sweat coated my palms as I gripped the steering wheel.
Dear God, please take care of Emma. Let it not be anything serious. Please.
I was not a doctor, but I had seen the cut, and I knew my daughter would need stitches. The thought of what might be happening inside her head terrified me.
Minutes later, my tires screeched in front of the emergency ward.
I jumped out, rushed to the back seat, and lifted Emma into my arms again. She clung to my jacket while blood continued soaking through the towel onto my hands and clothes.
I did not care about the mess or the stares around us.
Nothing mattered except getting my daughter inside and making sure she was safe.