Chapter 21 #2
David had done everything right. He never left me questioning how he felt. He never played games. He showed up every single day and made me feel like I mattered.
So why did saying yes feel so much heavier than I expected?
I let out a long sigh and rolled onto my back. The ceiling suddenly became far more interesting than closing my eyes.
Without even realizing what I was doing, I reached over and picked my phone back up.
My thumb hovered over Cal's name before I caught myself.
I stared at it for several seconds.
One phone call wasn't going to fix anything.
One conversation wasn't going to magically make my feelings disappear.
I slowly locked my phone and placed it back on the nightstand.
"What is wrong with you?" I whispered to myself.
I squeezed my eyes shut one more time, but sleep was nowhere to be found.
With another frustrated sigh, I reached for the remote and turned on the television, hoping the background noise would finally quiet my thoughts.
I flipped through a few channels absentmindedly until my thumb froze over the remote.
I nearly choked on my own spit.
There he was.
Cal.
He sat beneath the bright studio lights beside James Palmer, one of ESPN's biggest NFL analysts, looking every bit like he belonged there.
The charcoal suit hugged his broad shoulders perfectly, and the confidence he carried looked completely effortless.
A graphic stretched across the bottom of the screen announcing the network's Thanksgiving NFL Preview.
James turned toward him with a smile.
"Let's stay in Houston for a minute. The Texans don't play until Sunday, but they're quietly putting together one of the better seasons in the AFC. Jalen Carter has looked phenomenal these last few weeks. What have you seen from him?"
Cal smiled before answering, adjusting the cuff of his jacket as naturally as if he'd been doing national television for years.
"The biggest difference is his command of the offense," he said confidently.
"When you watch him now compared to the beginning of preseason, he's seeing the field differently.
The game has slowed down for him, and that's dangerous for every defense in this league.
Houston also benefits from not playing on Thanksgiving this year.
The coaching staff was able to hold a short practice and meetings this morning before sending everybody home to spend the afternoon with their families.
Those extra few days of preparation before Sunday's game matter this time of year. "
James nodded.
"So you're buying into Houston?"
"I've been buying into them," Cal answered with a grin. "As long as Jalen stays healthy, I think they're a legitimate playoff team."
I couldn't stop smiling.
He sounded so natural.
So comfortable.
So completely in his element.
Watching him sit beside one of the biggest names in sports broadcasting made something warm bloom inside my chest.
I thought about all the nights he'd spent recording episodes with barely any listeners.
I thought about the hours he poured into research while everyone else was out having fun.
I thought about how many people dismissed his podcast as just another hobby.
Now look at him.
Goodness, I was so proud of him.
Maybe that was the problem.
No matter how hard I tried to convince myself I was moving forward... some part of me would always stop to celebrate him whenever he won.
I stayed up watching the rest of Cal's segment, smiling every time the camera cut back to him.
It settled something inside of me I hadn't felt in weeks.
For the first time in over a month, my mind finally grew quiet.
Somewhere between listening to him break down football and watching him laugh with the panel, sleep found me without me even realizing it.
The next morning, I woke up with his face still fresh in my mind.
Instead of the heaviness that had followed me around for weeks, there was an unfamiliar sense of peace sitting quietly in my chest.
It confused me more than anything else.
I had no idea what I was doing anymore.
I had no idea what to do with these feelings that refused to go away, and I had no one I could talk to about them.
Somehow... we had ended up exactly where we promised we'd never be.
I laid in bed for another few minutes before finally forcing myself to get up.
My bags had already been packed the night before, since I wouldn't be coming back home until after Thanksgiving weekend.
Despite everything swirling around in my head, I was genuinely excited to celebrate Mars.
Watching the way Jalen loved her had been one of the most beautiful things I'd witnessed over the last year.
Mars had never been the girl who dreamed about weddings or fairy tales, yet somehow Jalen had unlocked a version of her that none of us had ever seen.
She laughed more.
She smiled differently.
She looked... safe.
Seeing that gave me hope that maybe love really did find you when you stopped trying to force it.
I slipped into a cream linen short set with a matching button-down, slid on a pair of tan leather sandals, and gathered my curls into a messy bun on top of my head.
After brushing a little blush across my cheeks and adding a swipe of gloss, I looked at myself in the mirror and smiled.
"Happy Thanksgiving."
The words felt lighter than they had in years.
I grabbed my overnight bag and headed downstairs.
The back of my SUV was already packed with luggage along with an enormous arrangement of white peonies, blush garden roses, and ivory ranunculus that had been delivered the evening before.
They were my engagement gift to Mars before today's bridal festivities officially began.
Houston had gifted us one of those rare November mornings where the sun warmed your skin without making you sweat.
A cool breeze drifted through the open windows as I drove across the city toward The Post Oak Hotel, passing sprawling estates tucked behind wrought-iron gates and perfectly manicured oak trees dressed in shades of gold and amber.
The valet greeted me before I had even shifted into park, and a bellman appeared behind my vehicle as I stepped out.
"You can take everything out of the trunk," I said with a smile. "It's all going to the Presidential Suite."
"Absolutely, Ms. Kingsley."
"Thank you."
I adjusted the strap of my purse and stepped inside the lobby.
The hotel smelled faintly of green tea and white tea blossoms, a clean scent that somehow made the entire space feel even more luxurious.
Sunlight poured through the towering windows, bouncing off polished marble floors as guests moved quietly through the lobby.
I smiled to myself as I walked toward the elevators and pressed the button.
The doors open almost immediately.
My breath caught.
Caleb Sinclair stepped out.
Everything around us seemed to disappear.
The conversations.
The rolling suitcases.
The soft piano music drifting through the lobby.
It all faded into the background.
He looked exactly the way he'd looked on television the night before, except somehow even better in person.
His tan slacks fit him perfectly, and the fitted white polo stretched comfortably across his shoulders.
His beard was freshly trimmed, and the familiar scent of his cologne reached me before he did.
His eyes met mine.
Neither of us moved.
His chest rose slowly before he let out a quiet breath, almost as though he'd forgotten how to breathe for a second.
I realized I had done the exact same thing.
Every emotion I'd spent the last month trying to organize suddenly shattered into a million pieces right there on the marble floor.
My mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
The nearness of him sent a warm rush through me that settled low in my stomach, and I hated how instinctive my body still was around him.
"Nia."
My name left his mouth almost like a question.
He stepped closer before wrapping his arms around me in a hug that lasted just a heartbeat longer than either of us intended.
I melted into him before my brain reminded me to let go.
His embrace felt familiar.
Safe.
Entirely too familiar.
When we finally stepped apart, the scent of his cologne lingered around me.
"How are you?" I finally managed, barely recognizing my own voice.
He slipped his hands into his pockets and smiled.
"I'm good."
"You?"
"I've been busy."
"I can imagine."
His eyes never left mine.
For a second, neither of us spoke.
"So..."
He rubbed the back of his neck.
"How's David?"
The question sounded almost accidental, like it had escaped before he could stop it.
I swallowed.
"He's good."
That was all I could manage.
I watched something flicker across his face.
Disappointment.
Maybe even hurt.
It disappeared almost as quickly as it arrived.
"Nia!"
Mars's voice echoed across the lobby before either of us could say another word.
I turned to find her hurrying toward us with the biggest smile on her face.
"I'm so glad you're here!" she said, grabbing my hand. "You have to come see the ballroom. It's absolutely gorgeous."
I laughed.
As I tucked a loose curl behind my ear, Cal's hand lifted at the exact same time.
His fingers stopped only inches from my face before he slowly pulled them back.
"Sorry," he said quietly.
"It's okay."
I smiled, hoping he couldn't hear how uneven my breathing had become.
"I should go."
"Yeah."
His smile was small.
"I'll see you later?"
The words came out sounding more like hope than confidence.
"Yeah. I'll see you later."
He held my gaze for one more second before turning toward the front entrance, while I let Mars pull me toward the elevators, trying to ignore the fact that every instinct I had wanted to turn around and watch him walk away.