Chapter 37 Caleb
CALEB
Icould feel it even before Nyah spoke—the way her shoulders tightened, the hesitation in her breath. She was carrying a truth she had buried carefully, not because she didn’t trust me—but because she was afraid of what loving me might cost us both.
This wasn’t just a confession waiting to happen; it was a reckoning.
But I knew one thing for certain: nothing between us would remain untouched.
“I don’t think your mother is too fond of me,” she said with a quiet sigh. “I wanted to tell you earlier, but—”
I felt a rush of relief settle in, solid and reassuring. This was normal. Manageable. The kind of thing people joked about, not something that changed anything. Time would smooth over their relationship.
I frowned gently, already certain I had the answer. “She just doesn’t know you as I do,” I said. “Is that what’s been bothering you?”
Nyah nodded.
“She’ll fall in love with you once she gets to know you, I promise.” I kissed the tip of her nose, meaning every word. “I know she’s a bit overprotective when it comes to me, but she will come around eventually. Trust me on that.”
She smiled, but there was something fragile behind it, like glass stretched thin.
Our relationship didn’t just grow—it unfolded, quietly and beautifully, as if it had been waiting for the right moment to exist. We were in love in the easiest way.
With Lucas, we became children again—chasing laughter, inventing games, building small worlds out of ordinary afternoons.
With each other, we laughed freely, teased without fear, and touched with a familiarity that felt earned.
When we made love, it was like “fallen stars who finally found their place next to each other in a lovely constellation where they sparkled in the heavens forever,” just as Amy Tan said—an ending to all the drifting I’d done before her, a quiet certainty that I had arrived where I was always meant to be.
She didn’t disrupt my life; she made a home in it, seamless and sure, and every day felt like a small miracle I never stopped noticing.
Nyah hadn’t said I love you yet. I knew she felt it. I knew it as surely as I knew my own heartbeat. Maybe she was waiting—carefully, deliberately—for the right moment.
June arrived carrying two birthdays, but Lucas’s came first, and it took over everything.
The function room in her building was transformed—bright streamers along the walls, balloons bobbing at every corner, a long table crowded with cake, snacks, and gifts wrapped in colourful paper. The room buzzed with the sweetness of frosting, the squeal of children, and the thud of running feet.
Lucas was everywhere at once, flushed with excitement, laughing so hard he could barely stay still, his joy spilling out of him in a way that felt contagious.
I watched him open his presents, his eyes going wide at every new surprise, but I found myself watching Nyah even more. She remained nearby without hovering, smiling, watchful, completely tuned in to her son. There was an easy softness in her that day.
Seeing her give him that kind of happiness, that kind of safety, made something settle deep inside me. It felt less like witnessing a party and more like being allowed into a moment that mattered.
On June 15th, the night before my thirtieth birthday, I stayed over at Nyah’s apartment.
The night felt hushed and intimate, like it was holding its breath for something meaningful. At midnight, Lucas wished me first. He wrapped his arms around my neck, pressed a loud kiss to my cheek, and handed me a crooked, handmade card and a chocolate bar he’d clearly been guarding all evening.
My chest squeezed.
Nyah smiled at us, soft and proud, then tucked him into bed before coming back to me. “Happy birthday,” she said, handing me a small box.
I opened it.
A Montblanc watch lay nestled inside, elegant and impossibly perfect. Engraved on the back were the words Yours, always, followed by the date.
For a moment, I couldn’t speak. “This is… incredible,” I finally managed. “It must have cost you a fortune. Are you sure?”
She crossed her arms, one eyebrow lifting in mock reprimand. “What was it Lucas said about gifts—and what you agreed with?”
I sighed, already smiling. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” I met her eyes. “Thank you. I love it.”
And God, I really did.
She went to the kitchen to make green tea, and I carried the gifts into her bedroom, placing them carefully on the dresser.
I rubbed my temple, unease threading through the warmth.
How did she pay for this? She never asked me for anything, never let me cover more than my share.
The thought that she might have put herself out for me sat heavily in my chest. I told myself I’d ask her later.
For now, I wanted her.
I found her in the kitchen, steam rising softly from the kettle. My gaze traced her face without permission, lingered on her mouth. I stepped closer, slid my fingers into her hair, and before either of us could think better of it, my lips were on hers. She melted into me like she always did.
I lifted her into my arms and carried her to the bedroom, where the world narrowed to warmth, breath, and the quiet certainty of us. We fell asleep tangled together, the night wrapping around us like a promise.
Morning came with chaos and laughter.
Lucas bounced onto the bed with Oreo, wishing me happy birthday all over again. Nyah scooped him up, laughing, and took him to make breakfast while I pulled on my clothes.
That’s when I found the receipt.
It had slipped under the bed near the nightstand.
A trade-in receipt. A gold set. A credit card.
Why the hell did she do that? I didn’t need this watch. I didn’t want her to sacrifice anything for me. Not like this.
I stared at the paper for a long moment, then slid it back exactly where I’d found it. This wasn’t the moment.
In the kitchen, I wrapped an arm around her waist, pressed a kiss to her lips, and said the words that felt truest in my chest. “I love you to infinity and beyond. I hope you know that.”
“Hey! About time.” I bent and kissed Nyah, my hand settling instinctively at the small of her back. “What took you guys so long?”
“Blame it on Karl’s driving and the fact that he doesn’t like to ask directions,” Elle laughed, rolling her eyes.
Karl apologized immediately.
“No problem at all,” I said easily. “Enjoy the birthday party… not my idea, trust me.” I couldn’t help adding that last part, wanting—maybe needing—to distance myself from the setting.
Cocktail tables dressed in white linen, flowers arranged with surgical precision, candles casting a careful, curated glow.
It felt more like a corporate networking event than a birthday celebration, and I’d already decided I was only enduring it for appearances… for my mother.
From the corner of my eye, I saw my mother approaching, Caroline in tow.
“Darling,” my mother said smoothly, her voice polished and deliberate, “Caroline is here and hasn’t had a chance to wish you yet. Apparently, you’ve been busy with other guests.” Her gaze flicked to Nyah.
I felt the disapproval land where she intended it, and I knew I was the only one who could redirect it.
Caroline smiled and wished me a happy birthday, then turned her attention to Nyah. “It’s so lovely to see you again,” she said. “How long have you two been together? You make such a lovely couple.”
“Thanks,” Nyah replied. “Since February.”
I watched them for a moment—Nyah calm, composed; Caroline polite, curious—and felt my shoulders ease. There was nothing strained here, nothing awkward. No reason to hover.
Convinced everything was fine, I excused myself to greet other guests and took my mother with me.
I watched as Nyah took my father’s arm and walked with him toward the grounds.
There was something gentle and respectful in the way she leaned in that made my chest loosen without my permission.
They sat on a bench beneath the soft glow of the garden lights, heads inclined toward each other, speaking for a while before eventually returning to the party.
During dinner, I pulled my chair closer to Nyah’s, angling myself toward her. “How was the talk with Dad?”
“It was really good.”
“Really?” I searched her face, wanting confirmation, wanting certainty.
“He asked me if you and I were seeing each other,” she said, “and when I confirmed it, he was very glad.”
“That’s great.” I smiled, warmth spreading through me—until I noticed the slight crease between her brows. “Was that it?”
“He also said that he knows your mother is not very fond of me,” she continued carefully, “but that she will come around.”
“Told you.” I smiled again, easy and assured, brushing my thumb lightly against her knee beneath the table. “You need to stop worrying about my mother. She will come around. I promise.”
I believed it completely. I believed love—ours—would smooth every edge.
When a slow song drifted through the speakers, I stood and held out my hand. She took it, and I led her to the dance floor, drawing her close.
“This is what it’s supposed to feel like,” I thought, drawing her closer around the waist. “You know, it would be great if we had a daughter,” I said softly, the words slipping out before I weighed them.
Nyah nearly choked.
I smiled down at her, amused, fond. “We already have a son… our son, Lucas. It would be nice someday to have a daughter… Emma, don’t you think?”
She kissed my nose, laughing, a little breathless. “Yeah, someday… it would be nice. But for now, let’s hold our horses on that one.”
And we laughed, swaying slowly, surrounded by noise, judgment, and expectations.
In that moment, none of it mattered.
All I knew was this: Nyah was my future, even if she wasn’t ready to say the words yet.