Jiya #2
Had I made a mistake keeping our daughter away from him? Would she grow up never knowing her father, even though he was sitting only a few steps away from her right now?
His serious expression and the way his eyes narrowed toward the backyard stole what little appetite I had left.
“So, bachelor party, huh?” I asked, trying to sound nonchalant. “How is that going? Congratulations, by the way.”
My stomach hardened, and I wasn’t sure why the word felt so heavy on my tongue.
Maybe it was my nerves. Maybe it was the complicated situation we were trapped in.
I shouldn’t care about him or his future anymore.
I didn’t have that right. Yet somewhere inside me, a small, stubborn piece still reacted to the idea of him building a new life with someone else.
He was moving toward happiness and closure.
And I was moving forward alone and widowed.
“Thanks,” he replied without looking at me.
“So when’s the big day?” I asked.
“In three months,” Greg answered. “On the thirtieth of July.”
“That’s great,” I said, nodding politely. “Isn’t it a bit early to have a bachelor party?”
“Yeah… well, his fiancée warned me that it had to be now or never,” Greg said, rolling his eyes. “So here we are.” He laughed longer than necessary, trying to keep the mood light.
“What have you guys done so far in terms of the bachelor party?” I asked.
Greg launched into a story about the islands they had visited over the past two weeks. Next on their list was Victoria.
I listened politely, though my attention kept drifting toward the backyard, where Emma’s laughter floated through the open window.
“We’re going to be in the village for another couple of days,” Caleb said finally. “Any suggestions on where to go?”
I looked at him, surprised that he had spoken at all. He had barely said a word to me since I told him I was a widow, and now he wanted sightseeing tips from me as if we were strangers making small talk.
“Well,” I said, trying to add humour into my tone, “there are a few touristy spots you can check out, but I don’t know if that’s what you want to do in your last couple of days as a bachelor. You can always check out Shady Shack… the local strip club.”
“Is that where your husband went for his bachelor party?” Caleb asked, iciness laced in his voice.
The tension in the air thickened again.
I was stunned by the hostility in his tone and the sharpness of his words that left me momentarily speechless. I could not believe how harsh and distant he had become, how the warmth and kindness I once knew in him had been replaced by anger that simmered just beneath the surface.
It was as if the man sitting in front of me had stepped straight out of the past—the same spoilt, entitled version of him who used to throw temper tantrums like a child, the very man I had first met years ago, before time and heartbreak had changed both of our lives in ways neither of us had ever imagined.
Granted, I had disappeared while he was still unconscious in the hospital, but I still could not understand why he needed to be this cruel toward me, why his words carried such malice that they stripped away every layer of composure I had left.
After all, he was the one who had cheated on me, and the memory of that betrayal still lingered painfully inside me.
I should have been the one feeling angry, annoyed, and hurt, because I had carried those emotions with me for years, letting them sit quietly beneath the surface of my life like embers that never fully died.
Not him. I struggled to make sense of the resentment in his eyes, wondering if he truly believed he had been wronged more than I had.
Did he have a right to be angry?
The question circled back when another memory rose uninvited, bringing with it a wave of guilt I could not escape.
I remembered my foster father, Jeremy, and the terrible chain of events that had followed his actions, the fear and chaos that had consumed all of us in ways that still haunted my thoughts.
Yes, Caleb still had a right to be angry.
It was because of me that my foster father had kidnapped his nieces, dragging innocent children into a nightmare they never deserved to experience.
It was because of me that they had been put in danger, their lives hanging by a thread because of decisions I had made and secrets I had kept.
It was because of me that Caleb had been shot, his body lying broken in a hospital bed while I ran from the wreckage of everything that had fallen apart around us.
The weight of those memories made my skin tingle with discomfort. I wished with all my heart that I could rewind time and take all of it back, erase every mistake, undo every choice, and return to the moment before everything had gone so terribly wrong.
Emma laughed loudly in the backyard, and the sound pulled me back to the present.
Right then, I realized that I would not have had our daughter if I had been given the chance to rewind time and take everything back.
Every pain and sacrifice had been worth it for our daughter, because her laughter, her innocence, and her presence had filled my life with a purpose I never knew I needed. No amount of apologies could undo what had been done, especially when it came to Jeremy and the damage he had caused.
I wondered if I should ask about his nieces, the two girls whose frightened faces had haunted my memories for so long.
What about his mother? The last time I had seen her was at the hospital, when I had been there to donate blood.
Should I say something now? Should I ask if they were well, if life had returned to normal for them after everything they had endured?
The questions hovered at the edge of my lips. Hesitation held me back, and after a silent debate, I decided against it, choosing instead to protect the calm that existed between us.
Staring at him for what felt like forever, I swallowed hard before responding to the question he had asked earlier. “No, he didn’t have a bachelor party there.”
“We’ll check it out. Thanks for the info,” Greg said, trying to calm the situation that could have easily escalated if left unchecked. “Anything else?”
“There’s the annual fair this weekend, in case you’re interested,” I said, turning my attention toward Greg and speaking directly to him while ignoring Caleb. “There are rides, music, dancing, and food, and other towns usually come over to our village and have a great time.”
“Okay,” he said, munching on his bacon with an easy nod. “We’ll think about it.”
After finishing their breakfast, they got up to leave, pushing their chairs back from the table.
Thanking me for the meal, Greg stepped forward and wrapped me in a friendly hug before saying, “It was lovely seeing you again. Take care and stay well.”
Caleb walked past me toward the door, stopped and turned around. He looked at me for a brief moment, muttered his thanks under his breath, and then walked out the door without another word.