Exile

Chapter 5

DARWYNN

Two couples started slowly dancing in the middle of the bar, with their arms tightly around each other and quietly chatting as they moved to the music.

I had turned around on my stool to watch them while Caspian was leaning forward, with his forearms against the counter and his fingers curled around his third glass of whiskey. He didn’t exactly share my interest in watching those people dance.

When I turned back around, facing Caspian, his head hung low, and it seemed like he was in deep thought. He didn’t look unhappy to be here, though, and deep down, I knew he wanted to be here with me.

“Do you have other family?”

I asked, my voice careful but curious.

He didn’t look at me immediately, swirling the dark liquid in his glass instead. Then, with a sigh, he set the drink down and glanced at me.

“No.”

“No siblings? Cousins?”

He shook his head.

“What about your parents? Are they still around?”

“No.”

His reply was dry but direct.

“I’m sorry.”

His expression didn’t change, and he returned to staring at his drink. I studied him momentarily, trying to figure out his feelings, but he was so closed off.

Taking a deep breath, I looked at my hands and said, “I don’t think I want a family either.”

That got his attention. His eyes flicked to me, his brows pulling together slightly. “Why do you say that?”

I shrugged. “I mean, maybe someday I’d want a man. But kids? A big family? It’s just not something I’ve ever really wanted.”

I pursed my lips, then added, “I’ve always wanted a dog, so maybe that’ll be enough for me.”

He didn’t respond immediately, his gaze lingering on me as if trying to figure me out. Finally, he muttered, “Dogs are less trouble.”

I laughed softly. “You’re probably right. Have you ever had a dog?”

Suddenly, the smallest smile tugged at his lips. “Yeah, I had a dog. A Great Dane named Minute. I got him from the shelter when he was eight, and just two years later, he died. But let me tell you, those two years were the best damn years I ever had.”

I watched his eyes light up as he talked about Minute. I knew there was a heart in there somewhere. Deep down, Caspian was a good man.

“Tell you something, kid,”

he said, his eyes meeting mine. “I’ve met many people, and none have given me what that dog has. Some people are fucking horrible, but you can always count on a dog.”

I made sure to remember those words. Smiling, I said, “Minute sounds like he was very special.”

“He was.”

His eyes were back on his drink.

I studied him for a moment, my curiosity bubbling up again despite his obvious reluctance to share much. “So…you never wanted another dog?”

He shook his head, his hand tightening around the glass. “No. After him, it just didn’t feel right. Some things you only get once. Everything else after that is just a cheap imitation.”

I nodded, sensing the weight of his words. I wanted to push further, to ask if that was how he felt about more than just dogs. About people. But I held back, not wanting to poke too hard at the fragile connection we were building.

I kept my voice soft. “I think I get that. Sometimes, you don’t want to try again because you’re afraid it won’t be the same.”

Caspian’s gaze flicked to mine, sharp and searching as if I’d stumbled too close to something he didn’t want me to see. But he didn’t say anything.

I let the tension ease a little, and silence fell over us again.

Neither of us said anything. The conversations around the bar filled the space between us, and I found myself content sitting with him.

Eventually, he downed the rest of his whiskey and set the glass on the counter. “We’re leaving.”

Oh.

“Already?”

“It’s almost midnight,”

he stated with a frown, his expression telling me he wasn’t usually up this late.

“Right. I forgot that you’re old,”

I teased. “Sixty, right?”

“Sixty-one.”

I raised a brow. “Since when?”

“Today.”

My jaw dropped. Seriously? “Today was your birthday, and you didn’t even tell me?”

“Could’ve googled it,”

he said dryly.

I scoffed and jumped off the stool. “And you didn’t even celebrate?”

“I had three whiskeys. I did celebrate.”

Funny.

I rolled my eyes and sighed as he put money on the counter. He started walking toward the exit, and I grabbed my jacket and hurried to catch up. “Happy birthday,”

I said once we were outside.

“Don’t bother.”

“But I want to. Birthdays are important.”

He walked along the road in the direction of the camping ground. I decided not to ask why he was walking me home, but I assumed he wanted to ensure I got home safely.

“Not when you’re my age.”

“September third. You’re a Virgo.”

“Does it matter?”

I shrugged, walking closely next to him. “I like to think that it does.”

“Hm.”

“My birthday is April twenty-second. Taurus.”

“Great,”

he said sarcastically.

Got it. No more birthday and astrology talk.

I stopped at the bottom of the porch steps when we reached my house, turning to face him.

“Thanks for walking me,”

I said softly.

He nodded, his gaze meeting mine briefly before flicking away.

On impulse, I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around him. His body tensed like he wasn’t used to being hugged, but he didn’t pull away.

He forced his hand to the small of my back, patting against it before he cleared his throat and stepped back.

His expression was unreadable in the dim light of the porch, but he gave a small nod. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Caspian.”

I smiled and watched him turn away and walk back down the road, disappearing into the shadows.

Only when he was gone did I notice my heart pounding hard in my chest. I could still feel his presence, which confused me, feeling like this when he wasn’t even here anymore.

There was something about him, something I couldn’t quite put into words.

Something more between us, and as I stood there alone in the night, I knew I wouldn’t be able to shake the feeling anytime soon.

***

The next morning, I went to the general store to get ingredients and baked Caspian a cake in the small kitchenette. Finding everything in the drawers took me a while, but I collected everything I needed.

I doubted Caspian cared much for sweets, but after learning he hadn’t celebrated his birthday, I felt like someone had to do something about it.

When the cake was cooling, I added a finishing touch with a thin layer of frosting and a “61”

written in blue icing. It wasn’t perfect, but it was heartfelt. I simply wanted to put a smile on his face. Though that was a lot to hope for.

Once it was placed on a plate, I took a quick shower and dressed. My hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail, and I decided not to wear makeup today. I grabbed one last thing—the diary filled with Polaroid pictures from my road trip—before picking up the cake and heading to Caspian’s house.

I struggled to balance the cake in one hand and the book in the other, but after tugging the book under my arm, I managed to knock on the door.

It took a while before he opened the door, and his usual scowl deepened at the sight of me holding the cake.

“What’s this?”

he asked flatly.

I held it up with a sheepish grin. “Belated birthday cake.”

He crossed his arms. “I don’t eat cake.”

“Figured,”

I muttered. “I’ll eat it for you then. Can I come in?”

His brow twitched in annoyance, but he stepped aside and let me in. The house smelled of coffee again. I could use one, I thought.

Once inside, I placed the cake on the dining table and handed the book from under my arm to him. “Here.”

“What’s that?”

he asked, eyeing it closely.

“Something I thought you’d like.”

He took the book from my hand and opened it, flipping through the pages and examining the Polaroid pictures. Each one was a snapshot from my road trip: a misty forest somewhere in British Columbia, a lonely stretch of highway in Alberta, and a quiet lake reflecting the sky in Ontario.

“These are yours?”

he asked, his tone softening.

I nodded. “Took them when I drove through Canada the past six months.”

He paused on a photo of an old barn surrounded by golden fields. For a long moment, he just stared at it.

“These are great,”

he said quietly, his voice honest.

I smiled. “Thanks. You can keep it for a while. Look at the pictures more closely.”

He turned another page and then gave me a single nod. “Thanks.”

His voice was so sincere that it sent shivers down my spine.

“You’re welcome. Are you sure you don’t want to try the cake? It’s chocolate. Everyone loves chocolate.”

He sighed. He was about to say no when I gave him a knowing glance. “Fine.”

He pulled back the chair at the end of the table and gestured for me to sit down. As I did, he went to the kitchen to grab a knife, plates, and two forks. Once he was back, he sat down next to me, his knee briefly touching mine under the table.

I looked at him as he cut two pieces and placed each on our plates, and after his eyes lingered on his for a moment, he finally picked up his fork and stabbed into it. His face didn’t give much away as he took the first bite, and I held my breath, watching him.

“It’s not bad,”

he muttered.

“Not bad?”

I raised an eyebrow, grinning at him. “That’s the best compliment I’ve gotten from you so far.”

He smirked back. Barely. And the flicker of it did something dangerous to my pulse.

We ate in silence, and the silence was comfortable.

My attention kept slipping to the subtle way his fingers gripped the fork or his jaw moved when he chewed.

“You really drove across Canada by yourself?”

he asked finally, his tone softer than I was used to.

“Yeah,”

I replied, brushing a crumb off the table. “Six months. Just me, my car, and whatever random songs the radio decided to play.”

He nodded, his dark eyes unreadable, and the silence came over us again.

When we finished our cake, I stood, reaching for the plates, but Caspian stopped me with a hand on my wrist. His touch was brief, but it burned right into my skin.

“I’ll take care of it,”

he said, his voice low.

I nodded. “Alright. Thanks.”

As he went to the kitchen, I weighed my next move. I had come to hang out with him, but I wasn’t sure he wanted me around any longer.

I stood up, pushed the chair under the table, and walked over to the kitchen. I watched his back, taking in his posture and muscular body. For sixty-one, he was very fit.

My eyes drifted down his back and to his ass, which I stared at for a while too long. It was suddenly his crotch I was staring at when he turned around to face me.

“Eyes up here,”

he demanded.

I felt my cheeks burn, and in the strangest way, I felt caught. Dirty.

Biting my lower lip, I wrapped one arm around my waist. “Are you busy today?”

He watched me, his expression tight as usual. “No.”

“Okay.”

I rubbed my arm and smiled gently. “Me neither. I wanted to read by the water.”

He didn’t react to that. He simply stood there, his eyes burning into mine.

I understood.

He wanted me to leave.

A tight smile spread on my lips as I stepped closer to him. “Thank you for letting me celebrate your birthday with you. Even if it was yesterday.”

I hesitated before pushing up on my tip toes and kissing his cheek quickly.

Without awaiting his response, I turned away and left his house.

Like it always had when we were distant, my heartbeat went crazy. I took a deep breath and looked over the water, unable to steady my pulse.

Walls were built around him, and getting to him wouldn’t be easy.

But today showed me that he was capable of letting me closer.

He was slowly letting me in, and with all the patience in the world, I would carefully get to know him better.