Chapter 10 #2
“So,” I tried. “Daniel Hargreeve reached out. Remember him? My fellowship supervisor.”
Cassian’s jaw twitched. “Yeah. I remember.”
“He offered me a position. Leadership role at a new trauma center he’s building.”
“That’s great. Congratulations.”
His tone was flat. Hollow. I frowned.
“You don’t sound happy for me.”
“I’m thrilled. Really.” He grabbed his coffee from the counter, not meeting my eyes. “Are you taking it?”
“I don’t know yet. I’m still thinking about it.”
“Well.” Something ugly passed across his face. “Don’t let me stop you. You’re good at leaving for better opportunities.”
I stepped back, stung.
I stared at him, hurt giving way to anger. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. Forget it.” He started to walk away.
“No.” I followed him into an empty hallway, my heels clicking against the floor. “You don’t get to make comments like that and then walk away. What’s your problem?”
“My problem?” Cassian turned, and his expression was raw with emotions he’d clearly been suppressing.
His eyes were bright, his hands clenched at his sides.
“You’re talking about leaving again. Just like before.
A shiny new opportunity comes along and suddenly everything you have isn’t good enough. ”
“This has nothing to do with before.”
“It has everything to do with it.” His voice rose, echoing in the empty corridor. “You did this exact same thing five years ago. We finally had something stable, something we were building together, and you chose a fellowship over our marriage.”
“I chose my career. And you chose yours. Don’t rewrite history to make yourself the victim.”
“I stayed, Calla. I wanted to stay. You left.”
“Because you made a decision about our future without asking what I wanted. You accepted Obsidian and expected me to rearrange my life around your plans.”
“And you took the fellowship without considering what it would do to us.”
“I considered it.” My voice cracked, and I hated myself for it. “I considered it every single day. I just made a different choice than the one you wanted.”
We stood there in the hallway, five years of unspoken resentment finally spilling into the open. His chest was heaving. My hands were shaking. The space between us felt charged, electric with anger and something else underneath. Something that had never really gone away.
“This is ridiculous,” I said. “You’re with someone else. You’ve moved on. What I do with my career is none of your business anymore.”
“You’re right.” Cassian’s expression shuttered. “It’s not my business. Take the job. Leave. It’s what you’re good at.”
I flinched. The accusation burrowed under my skin, sharper than I wanted to admit.
Then he shook his head, dragging a hand through his hair. Some of the anger drained from his face, replaced by exhaustion.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “That was unfair. This is a good opportunity for you.”
“Cassian.”
“I mean it. I’m sorry.”
He walked away before I could respond.
I stood alone in the hallway, hands trembling, wondering how a simple lunch had spiraled into this. Wondering why his anger had felt like grief. Why his cruelty had sounded like heartbreak.
That night, I found Felice in our kitchen, pouring two glasses of wine.
She took one look at my face and pushed the fuller glass toward me. “That bad?”
“Worse.”
We settled onto the couch in the living room, the city lights glittering through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Felice tucked her legs underneath her and waited, the way she always did when she knew I needed to talk but couldn’t find the opening.
I told her everything. The lunch. The job offer. The confrontation in the hallway. Cassian’s face when he’d accused me of being good at leaving.
“He’s jealous,” she said when I finished.
“He has no right to be jealous. He’s living with someone else.”
“Doesn’t mean he’s over you.”
“Well, he needs to be. We’re done. We’ve been done for five years.”
“Are you though?” Felice swirled her wine, watching me over the rim of her glass. “Because from what you’re telling me, you both sound like people who never dealt with the divorce. You just avoided each other until the pain felt manageable.”
I set my glass on the coffee table and pressed my palms against my eyes. “I don’t know how to do this, Felice. I don’t know how to work with him and not feel everything I’m not supposed to feel.”
“Not feel what?”
I couldn’t answer. Couldn’t put words to the longing that surfaced every time he smiled at me. The ache that bloomed when he said my name. The way my body still responded to his presence like no time had passed at all.
“Maybe you need to figure out what you actually want,” Felice said. “Whether you want things to be different, or whether you’re just nostalgic for something that didn’t work the first time.”
I didn’t have an answer for that either.
Felice squeezed my knee and stood. “I’m going to bed. But Calla? Whatever you decide about the job, make sure you’re deciding for the right reasons. Not because of him. Not because you’re running toward something or away from something. Because it’s what you want.”
“Since when did you get so wise?”
“I’ve always been wise. You just don’t listen.” She smiled and disappeared down the hallway toward her room.
I stayed on the couch, staring at the city lights, turning her words over in my mind.
My phone buzzed on the cushion beside me.
Cassian
I’m sorry for what I said. It was out of line.
I stared at the message for a long time, watching the cursor blink. My thumb hovered over the keyboard.
Calla
Why do you care if I take Daniel’s offer?
I pressed send before I could talk myself out of it.
Three dots appeared. Then disappeared. Then appeared again.
The wait felt endless. I sat in the dark living room, watching my phone, my heart beating too fast for something that should have been simple.
Finally, his response came through.
Cassian
I don’t know. But I do.
Six words. That’s all he gave me. Five words that said everything and nothing at the same time.
I set my phone on the couch beside me and leaned my head back, staring at the ceiling.
Neither did I.
But I did too.