Chapter 25 Caleb
CALEB
“Mr. Evans,” Martina called up the stairs. “Dinner will be served in five minutes.”
“I’ll be down in a moment,” I called back just as my phone started ringing. “Right after I finish this call.”
When Nyah’s name lit up my screen, a smile tugged at my lips before I could stop it. “Hey, Nyah,” I said. “What’s up?” “Caleb?”
The voice on the other end wasn’t Nyah’s. It was higher. Smaller.
My smile faded. “Lucas?”
“Do you know how to boil an egg?”
I frowned, straightening.
Lucas was exactly the right age for prank calls, but this didn’t sound like a joke.
“Boil an egg?” I said. “Technically, yes. But I prefer them fried. With lots of bacon. And hash browns, if somebody else is cooking.”
“I don’t know whether to put the egg in before the water is boiling or after.”
A chill slid down my spine.
“Hey,” I said quickly, already imagining worst-case scenarios. “You’re not using the stove on your own, are you?” Please say no. “Where’s your mom?”
“Mama fell asleep in my room, and I don’t want to wake her up.”
My stomach dropped. “Fell asleep?” I checked my watch. Six-thirty. Too early for Nyah to be out cold unless she was exhausted. Or overwhelmed. Or both. “How long ago?”
“After we got home,” Lucas said. “Do I wait for the water to boil, or not?”
“Okay,” I said, forcing my voice to stay calm. “First thing—switch off the stove, please, Lucas. Do it while I’m on the phone.”
“Okay.” A pause. “Now what?”
Relief hit me hard enough that I had to sit down.
“Now I’m coming over,” I said. “And I’ll bring something for dinner.”
I was already mentally inventorying Martina’s cooking. Hopefully, she’d made enough for leftovers. If not, I’d figure something out. There was no way I was leaving Lucas to fend for himself tonight.
“Will you call Larry downstairs and tell him to expect me?”
“Sure!” Lucas said, excitement bubbling into his voice. “Do you want to bring your pyjamas and stay over? We can have bacon and eggs and hash browns for breakfast.”
I laughed. “Let’s see what your mom has to say about that.”
Larry let me in without question. Lucas must have warned him. I knocked lightly on Nyah’s door anyway. “Who is it?” Lucas’ voice called from inside.
“It’s Caleb.”
Silence.
Then, suspiciously, “How do I know it’s you?”
I smiled to myself. Nyah was doing something right. “Who else knows your favourite restaurant is Uncle Lucy’s Diner?”
Lucas giggled. “Everybody knows that.”
“Okay,” I said. “Then ask me how I like my eggs.”
“How do you like your eggs?”
“Fried. With lots of bacon. And hash browns.”
The door opened.
Lucas beamed up at me. “But only if somebody else is cooking, right?”
“Right,” I said, ruffling his hair. “Good work checking who’s at the door. Can I come in?”
He stepped aside, eyeing the bag in my hand. “What’s for dinner?”
“This is going to sound serendipitous,” I said, walking into the kitchen and setting the bag down, “but it’s chicken Caesar salad.”
His face fell instantly. “Salad?”
“Yeah,” I said quickly. “But it has bacon and eggs in it. And cheese. And croutons—”
“And chicken?”
“Yes,” I said. “And chicken.” I peeled the lid off the container and tilted it so he could see. “Looks good, don’t you think?”
He rose on his toes, still skeptical, eyes narrowed at the sea of green. “What’s the white stuff?”
“That’s the dressing. Do you like ranch?”
His whole face lit up. “I love ranch.”
“It’s like that,” I said. “Except better. Want to get out some bowls?”
Lucas grabbed three. “We’d better leave some for Mama,” he said seriously. “She loves ranch more than me.”
I smiled, but my eyes drifted to the clock.
It was after seven.
I wondered how long Nyah had been asleep.
Lunch with Harper and Daria had clearly taken a toll on her. I’d seen it in her eyes when we returned to the office. And something had been bothering her even before that.
A nap probably helped. At least I hoped it had.
I had hoped she would accept my offer of a walk along the waterfront that afternoon. The idea had come to me while Daria was enthusiastically preaching about marriage. After Nyah saw her ex—after she got whatever closure she needed—I wanted to finally tell her how I felt.
Tell her again, technically.
I had already said it at lunch… or at least pretended to. Or pretended to pretend.
Somewhere along the way, spending time with her and Lucas had started to feel essential to me. Being with them filled something in me I hadn’t even realized was missing.
I loved Lucas. That much was undeniable.
And somewhere along the way—without a dramatic moment or clear decision—I had begun to realize something far more unsettling.
I was falling in love with her.
I told myself to snap out of it, but the truth was impossible to ignore. This was what falling in love felt like, and the realization was terrifying.
Even more terrifying was knowing I had already crossed that line without realizing it.
Ignoring it was no longer an option.
She was the first woman who had ever ignited something like this in me.
No one else had come close. Every time I was near her, a rush of euphoria washed over me.
My mouth went dry. My stomach fluttered.
Standing close to her without touching her felt almost unbearable, like restraint itself required effort.
Nyah Rodriguez! Why does loving you have to be so damned complicated?
I served dinner, put Nyah’s portion in the fridge, and carried the bowls to the table.
“Caleb,” Lucas said, “what’s serendip… saerradippous…”
“Serendipitous?”
“Yeah.” He tried the egg. His face softened. “This is good.”
“It’s like a coincidence,” I said, “except a happy one.”
“Like how Mama didn’t have anyone,” he said, “but then she met you?”
My chest tightened hard. The thought of them—of us—settling into something permanent pressed down on me, like a concrete slab.
“A bit like that,” I said. “You’re doing a good job of eating your greens.” I watched as Lucas demolished his dinner.
“I like chicken Caesar salad,” he said proudly. “If you and Mama start dating and move in,” he went on casually, “you could live here, and we could have chicken Caesar salad all the time.”
I choked. Actually choked.
I coughed, grabbed my water, and took a long swallow, buying myself a few seconds to get my voice under control. God help me, the image his words conjured was immediate and vivid—Nyah in the kitchen in bare feet and Lucas at the table doing homework. This was exactly what I wanted.
“Lucas,” I said carefully, “listen…”
“Yeah?”
“Your mom and I…” I paused.
Words mattered here. Every word could tilt something fragile in the wrong direction.
“Usually,” I continued slowly, “moms and dads fall in love before they have kids to look after. So when it happens the other way around—”
“When they have kids first?” Lucas asked.
“When one of them already has kids,” I clarified, instinctively distancing myself, even as it hurt. “It kind of makes it… complicated.”
“Complicated?” he asked.
“Because,” I said, choosing each word carefully, “when someone already has a kid, and they meet someone new—like your mom with anybody she liked—if she decided to get married, it wouldn’t just be her decision.
It would be a decision for you, too. And the guy,” I went on, my chest constricting, “he has to be absolutely sure. Because kids get hurt if adults make bad decisions.”
“Like if they get divorced?” Lucas asked.
“That’s right.”
“One of my friends from camp,” he said, “his mom is divorced. He’s got two bedrooms. They’re both full of toys.”
I laughed softly. “Well, at least he’s looking on the bright side.”
“Is that… serri-dipitous?”
This time I laughed for real. “No. That’d be if they figured out the problems before having kids.”
God, I loved this kid and his mother. I just didn’t know how to say it without risking everything. Especially since I had no idea how she felt about me.
I heard footsteps moments later.
Nyah blurred past Lucas’ doorway, straight into her bedroom. The door closed behind her with more force than necessary.
“Looks like Mom’s awake,” I said. And just in the nick of time.
“I’ll get her dinner,” Lucas said, pushing back his chair.
I put a hand on the chair, stopping him. “You’ll finish yours first. And then you’ll brush your teeth. What’s your normal bedtime?”
Lucas bit his lip and squinted at me. “Mama lets me stay up until I get tired.”
I smiled. “That was a great try. And because I like you, I’m not going to tell her you tried to bamboozle me.”
Lucas scowled and smiled at the same time.
I heard the toilet flush. “Quick. Eat. If you get ready for bed on your own, she’ll be so impressed, she’ll probably let you stay up late on the weekend.”
Lucas bolted down the last few morsels, even polishing off the cos lettuce. “Are you staying over?” he asked through his mouthful. “I don’t think we have bacon, but you can teach me how to fry eggs for breakfast.”
“There’s nowhere for me to stay, little man,” I said, keeping my voice low.
“Mama’s bed is hu-u-u-u-ge. She lets me sleep with her when I have nightmares.
” His eyes bulged with the dawning of a great idea.
“Tell her you have nightmares,” he said, gathering up the bowls and cutlery.
“Wait until it’s late, though, and she’s in her jammies.
If it’s early, she comes into my room and sits with me until—”
Nyah came out of the bedroom, cutting Lucas midway. Her hair was pulled back, her face composed, like she’d armoured herself in the few minutes she’d been gone.
“Hey,” I said, a little too enthusiastically. “There you are.” I got up and started busying myself with her dinner so she wouldn’t notice the heat creeping into my cheeks. Images I hadn’t invited were crowding my mind—Lucas tucked into bed, the apartment quiet, Nyah’s hand in mine as I—
“Lucas called you?” she asked, crossing the room and pressing a kiss to the top of her son’s head.
“Yeah,” I said quickly. “He didn’t want to wake you. And I can’t blame him. You needed some downtime.”
“I did.” She glanced at Lucas. “It’s nearly your bedtime. PJs, brush teeth, then I’ll read you a story.”
“Can Caleb read me a story?” Lucas asked.
Nyah hesitated. Just for a fraction of a second—but I saw it. “Caleb probably has somewhere he needs to be.”
“I can read to him,” I said, surprising myself with how certain my voice sounded. “That’d be good, actually.”
She frowned, caught between options.
I couldn’t tell whether she was weighing what was best for Lucas or protecting him from disappointment—or protecting herself. God, I’m such an ass.
“Go on,” she said finally, patting Lucas on the back. “Get ready for bed. Someone will be in to read you a story.”
“How about both of you?” he asked.
She scowled affectionately. “How about neither of us? Skedaddle.”
Lucas ran down the hall, laughing.
I set Nyah’s dinner on the table. “Do you want wine?”
“No wine,” she said, sitting down. “I just slept off that glass at lunch. It feels like it’s hitting me harder these days. Chicken Caesar?”
“Martina’s specialty. Dressing from scratch.”
“She’s Taylor’s wife?”
I nodded.
She took a bite, then another.
I sat beside her, watching her eat, my chest tight with everything I hadn’t said. “Listen,” I started. “I know things are probably weird with…” I stopped. Tried again. “Actually, what I wanted to say was—”
My heart pounded. I had never struggled like this to speak. Not once in my life. But the woman in front of me had a way of undoing me completely.
She laid down her fork and looked at me fully.
“You know, the thing is… Lucas… he’s—”
“I heard everything.”
“You did?” Okay, this is going to make it easier then.
She nodded, calm, composed. “Things are complicated,” she said gently.
“Lucas is my priority and always will be. I have to make decisions with him in mind. And honestly, I have so much on my plate already, I don’t even have time to think about anyone else.
I’m sorry he made you uncomfortable by playing cupid and trying to push us together. ”
“Okay.” The word echoed uselessly in my head. “Okay.” What I heard and what I felt in my heart came from separate worlds. Separate universes.
She wasn’t ready.
No—worse. She didn’t want this.
Was it Harper? The wedding? Something else I didn’t know how to reach?
I’d been prepared for hesitation. For fear.
Even for slow. But not for nothing. What I felt for her was genuine.
Pure. Just thinking about her filled me with peace and joy, and like a hundred-mile view from a mountaintop, I saw our future together with such perfect clarity.
Some of that feeling had to be reciprocated. It had to be.
“I’d better go read that story,” she said, standing. “Will you thank Martina for dinner?”
“Yeah,” I managed, standing up. “Of course.”
I followed her to the door, my legs heavy, my thoughts scattered.
“I understand if you don’t want to come to the wedding,” she added quietly. “I’m sorry about Lucas. I’ll talk to him.”
“No,” I said quickly. “Please don’t.” I forced a smile. “I’ll still come. With you and Lucas.”
“You’re sure?”
I nodded.
“I like being friends,” she said. “I like hanging out with you. And Lucas does too.”
“Definitely,” I said. “I’d like that.”
She opened the door. “Drive safe.”
I nodded and walked out, though I barely registered the steps I was taking.
What the hell just happened?
The question echoed in my head as the door closed behind me. Everything felt strangely muted, like the world had been wrapped in cotton. My chest felt tight, my limbs heavy, yet my thoughts raced in frantic circles, replaying every second of the conversation.
I had to have misunderstood something. I must have.
Because there was no way I had read her that wrong. Not Nyah. Not after everything we’d shared. The quiet moments. The looks. The way it had felt whenever we were together.
The elevator doors slid shut with a soft metallic sound.
I leaned back against the wall and stared up at the ceiling, a hollow laugh escaping my throat before I could stop it.
Congratulations, idiot! I thought bitterly. You just lost the love of your life.