Chapter Thirty-One
Caleb
“Hey, Zee,” Sean greeted as we walked back into the room, Zadie in the lead.
He was no longer the unconscious wreck we’d left behind. Other than looking like he’d been dragged behind a truck, he seemed remarkably unaffected. His self-assured presence filled the room the same way I remembered—big, loud, impossible to ignore, even from a hospital bed.
Zadie approached him, her hands balling into fists at her sides.
I hung back near the door. Watching her tentative steps and Sean’s face as he tracked every one of them. Waiting for the spike of jealousy to fade.
Chantel breezed past me, reclaiming the chair she’d occupied before as though she’d never left.
“I’ve been trying to get ahold of you,” Zadie told Sean, her voice tight. “Didn’t you get my messages?”
“Yeah, sweetheart, I got them. All of them.” He tried to shift in the bed and winced. “I just didn’t think it would be good for me to answer.”
“Good for you?”
“Yeah. I’ve been avoiding the things that tempt me. Booze, drugs, sex, caffeine.” His flashy, flirtatious grin didn’t give a shit about the bandage on his skull. “Added you to that list, since I could never resist you.”
“Me?” Zadie stammered.
“Hell, yeah. You’re temptation incarnate. One of my biggest weaknesses.”
His words hit me like a fist. I didn’t care that he was concussed. The urge to put my hands around his neck was immediate and savage.
“Stow it, Casanova,” Chantel ordered from her corner. “You’re in enough trouble as it is.”
Zadie shifted, clearing her throat. “Sean.” Her voice cracked. She hesitated, her shoulders shaking with each breath.
I couldn’t stand to see her struggle, drowning in the fear of facing this man who’d caused her so much damage. I’d promised myself I’d stay out of it. Let her handle it. But my resolve lasted about four seconds.
I stepped to her side and placed my hand on her back. Light, steady strokes. Not taking over. Just letting her know I was there.
“Caleb?” Sean noticed me for the first time. The way he’d been staring at Zadie, I could have been furniture.
“Hey, man.” I lifted my chin. “Glad you’re okay.”
“Damn, kid. You’ve grown. When was the last time I saw you? All I remember is a little shrimp who liked causing trouble.”
“It was just a couple years ago. At Christmas.”
The pain that crossed his face had nothing to do with the injury. “Shit. I don’t remember that.”
“No wonder,” Chantel muttered. “How high were you?”
Zadie stayed silent, her arms still folded tight across her body, holding herself together. Then, with a long exhale, she leaned into me.
My arm went around her on instinct, my hand settling against her side, just above the swell of her stomach.
“Oh, hell.” Sean’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Are you two together?”
I answered with a stare. Long, hard, and daring him to have a problem with it. But his attention was locked on Zadie.
When she didn’t answer, mine locked on her too.
I waited.
And I waited some fucking more.
The air in my lungs constricted. My chest compressed. My heart rate spiked into something that felt a lot like panic.
This was it.
This was where she decided I wasn’t worth the risk. That the age gap was too wide, her past too heavy, my need for her too much. That friends would be enough after all.
Chantel had called me Prince Charming, and I’d laughed it off. But standing in that hospital room, watching the woman I loved hesitate in front of the man who’d broken her, it no longer felt like a joke.
The prince doesn’t always get the girl. Sometimes he’s left standing in an empty hallway with nothing but the memory of one perfect night to haunt him for the rest of his pointless life.
“Zadie?” Sean prompted. “Are you with Caleb?”
She stepped out of my hold, and I closed my eyes, bracing for the worst.
“Yes. We’re together. One hundred percent.”
My eyes opened, warmth flooding my chest so fast I nearly choked on it.
She reached back for my hand, and I took it, a grin splitting my face.
“Small world,” Sean managed through a pained attempt at laughter.
“Not really,” Chantel quipped.
Sean ignored her. “For real, though—this is a good thing. You look good together. Really good. Hot, even. Caleb, you’re—”
“No.” Chantel’s voice cracked like a whip, making Sean flinch. “He’s not into guys. He’s not into you. Zadie’s definitely not into you.”
“Shit, relax.” He rubbed the side of his head gingerly. “I’m concussed, remember? I was kidding.”
“Keep it up and the brain damage will be permanent,” she warned. “Then they’ll have to call Dylan in here to arrest me.”
I watched the exchange, but my mind snagged on something beneath the banter. The way Sean’s grin faltered when Chantel mentioned Dylan’s name. The flash of something raw and unguarded in his expression before he buried it beneath charm.
He was still in love with Dylan.
I’d seen it five years ago, at the beginning of whatever the three of them had been.
The way Sean watched Dylan when he thought no one was looking.
The way his whole energy shifted when Dylan entered a room.
I’d been seventeen and didn’t fully understood what I was seeing. But I’d known it was real.
It was still real. And it was still killing him.
“Cal, Chantel.” Zadie’s voice cut through the room. “I’d like to talk to Sean alone.”
“No problem.” Chantel stood, smoothing her shirt. “I’m going to find my husband. You know where I’ll be.”
Sean blanched. The copper of his hair and beard stood out in stark contrast against skin that had gone white as the hospital sheets.
“You okay?” I asked him.
His eyes cut to mine, and for one unguarded second, the misery was so naked it made my stomach clench. Then the mask slid back into place.
“Yeah, I’m all good.” The dazzling smile returned, but I saw through it now. His pain had nothing to do with the concussion.
“Please, Cal.” Zadie turned to me. “I need to do this on my own.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
I took her face in my hands, searching for doubt. Her brown eyes sparkled. Her freckled cheeks flushed under my scrutiny. But her determination didn’t waver.
Beautiful and brave.
“Okay,” I murmured, running my thumb over her cheek. “I’ll be right outside.”
“No.” She placed her hand over mine. “You’ve waited long enough. I’m done making you wait.” Her smile was steady, her gaze certain. “Go see Abby. Catch up on your volunteer hours. I’ll be here when you’re done.”
Beautiful and brave and fucking mine.
“All right.” I winked, even though my chest was so full it hurt.
What I wanted to say was I love you.
I wanted to tell her. Wanted to shout it. Wanted to get on my knees and say it against her stomach so the baby could hear it too.
But this wasn’t the moment. Not in a hospital room. Not with her ex-boyfriend three feet away, concussed and heartbroken and watching us with an expression that was equal parts envy and acceptance.
Even though I couldn’t say the words, Zadie seemed to read them on my face. Her hand slid into my hair, gripping hard, and she pulled me down to her. Our mouths met in a kiss that was fierce and tender and felt like everything I hadn’t said out loud.
I poured it all in, hoping she could taste it. Needing her to know.
Sean cleared his throat loudly and then groaned from the pain of it.
Zadie smiled against my lips, laughter vibrating through the kiss. She swept her tongue once more against mine and murmured, “We’re always getting interrupted.”
“Don’t let me stop you,” Sean managed through his discomfort. “I’m good with watching.”
Zadie sighed, shaking her head. “You’re not invited.”
Our laughter faded as I prepared to leave them. The weight of what she was about to face tried to drag me under, but Zadie was still smiling.
I had nothing to be jealous of. Nothing to fear.
We weren’t fearless. But neither of us was letting fear run the show anymore.
“Time to face reality,” she said.
“Time to build one.” I kissed her one last time and walked out the door.