36. Caleb
CALEB
The drive back to Jiya’s house was quiet after the warmth of the evening by the waterfront.
Lucas and Emma had fallen asleep in the back seat before we even reached the house, worn out from the long day. Jiya sat beside me in silence, staring out the window while the glow of passing streetlights softened the side of her face.
She still would not look directly at me.
Hours earlier, being in her bedroom had felt like stepping back in time. Everything about it reminded me of the apartment she used to have in Downtown Vancouver.
I had even noticed a white card with gold lettering on her dresser that said Thank You. I knew I had seen it before somewhere, but I could not remember where.
While helping her with the bandage on her head, I had almost forgotten about everyone and everything else. I had been completely lost in her eyes, aware of the warmth of her skin and the faint scent of her lotion, our closeness drifting dangerously toward a kiss before Emma came racing upstairs.
From that moment on, Jiya avoided my eyes completely. I could not stop wondering why.
Maybe she felt guilty because I was engaged. Maybe because of her late husband.
But I knew what I had felt upstairs in that bedroom.
Whatever existed between us had never truly disappeared.
While she tucked the children into bed, Geeta went downstairs to the basement.
I stood alone in the living room, knowing I needed the courage to finally say what had been building inside me for days.
I poured myself a glass of wine and swallowed it quickly, hoping it would steady my nerves.
I was desperate to tell her how I felt and even more desperate to hear what she felt in return. If what I believed deep down was true… if this love between us was still alive… I would fight anyone and anything to be with her again.
She had always been mine, and I had always been hers.
I began pacing in the living room beside the kitchen, rehearsing the words in my head while I waited for her to come downstairs.
That was when something caught my eye.
I walked toward the opening that led to the basement stairs and stopped.
There was a bag sitting there.
Recognition hit me like a blow.
The tenderness I had felt only moments earlier twisted into something dark.
Everything around me blurred as a harsh roaring filled my ears. My fists trembled so hard I could barely feel my fingers anymore.
It was the same bag that had held the money for Jeremy years ago.
I knew it without a doubt.
Numbness spread through my body.
The bag was right there in front of me.
The sight of it hit me like a punch to the gut, dragging every ugly suspicion I had spent weeks trying to bury back to the surface.
The letter I had carried in my wallet all this time suddenly felt heavier than ever. Everything my mother had warned me about came rushing back.
She had taken the money.
She had betrayed me.
The plan she had concocted with her “abuser” had been real all along.
There was no more room for doubt.
No more room for hope.
The evidence sat in front of me.
Sweat trickled down my forehead as I clenched my fists.
I needed answers.
I needed the truth.
My anger and pain overpowered every trace of love I still carried for her.
Footsteps descended the stairs.
I looked up.
It was Jiya.
She met my eyes for the first time that evening.
“The children have gone to bed. Can we talk?” she asked.
She noticed the anger on my face because her expression changed instantly, the nervous bite of her lip replaced by a deep frown.
“Is everything all right?” she asked.
“No,” I replied, my voice rough, my ears ringing with the force of my own heartbeat. “Everything is not all right. I guess my mother was right about you after all.”
Her brows drew together. “Your mother? What are you talking about?”
“I am talking about the money, Jiya,” I said, my voice dropping into a low growl. “The money you took. The same money you used to start your new life here. This bag is proof of it.”
I pointed toward it.
Her eyes followed my hand.
“What money?” she asked slowly. “What bag?”
For a second, uncertainty flickered through me.
Then I crushed it.
No. I had seen the bag with my own eyes.
She’s still trying to play innocent. God! She’s a good actress.
I reached into my pocket, pulled out my wallet, and took out the letter.
Without thinking, I flung it toward her.
She flinched as it hit the floor in front of her.
Her mouth fell open as she bent down to pick it up.
I watched her carefully, studying every movement as she unfolded the paper and began to read.
Her eyes widened, and rapid blinking followed.
“Now you are going to tell me that this letter is not true and that you know nothing about it, right?” I scoffed bitterly. “I almost believed this whole act of yours. Thank God I came to my senses.”
She opened her mouth to speak, then stopped.
She tried again.
“I… I…”
“Can’t lie your way out of this one, can you?” I closed the distance between us. “You are such a good actress. Trying to fool me again with your innocent face and your lies. Does Liam know about you? Did your late husband know who you really are? About your past?”
She stared at me, frozen in place.
“When I first saw you at the restaurant, I thought I was imagining things. Then I saw you again at the office. I was glad fate brought you back and presented you in front of me. I was so angry at you. I hated you for everything you had done to my family. To me. Your betrayal caused us so much pain.”
“You are getting it all wrong,” she said, her voice trembling.
“Yeah, right. To think I almost trusted you again after spending time with you. I wanted to hurt you the way you hurt me. I wanted you to feel the same pain I carried for years. I was ready to do it until Greg convinced me to hear your side of the story, but this…”
I gestured toward the bag.
“This is the truth.”
Grinding my teeth, I forced the words out. “You were after my money from the beginning, just like the others. My mother saw through you, and I refused to believe her. You came to this small village, charmed another rich man, had his child, and took his money after he died. Congratulations.”
I clapped my hands once, the sound sharp in the silence.
“You have outdone every woman I have ever known.”
“You don’t understand—”
“I understand everything now,” I cut her off. “Everything.”
The words burned as they left my mouth.
“You never loved me.”
Hearing the truth in my own voice felt like a knife twisting inside me.
“You only loved my money.”
I lowered my gaze, swallowing the lump in my throat, then looked back at her with bitterness I could no longer hide.
“I wish I had never met you,” I said quietly. “I wish a person like you had never been born.”
I cursed and turned away from her before she could see the tears threatening to rise in my eyes.
Walking toward the front door, I paused briefly and glanced back.
She was still standing exactly where I had left her.
I opened the door, stepped outside, and slammed it behind me as I headed straight for my car.