Chapter 28
I wake up to the steady beep of machines and a dull throbbing in my side.
The hospital room is bathed in soft afternoon light filtering through half-drawn blinds.
As my vision clears, the first thing I see is Caleb.
He’s asleep in the chair beside my bed, his broad shoulders hunched uncomfortably, head resting on his folded arms at the edge of my mattress.
His usually perfect hair is a disheveled mess, and there’s stubble darkening his jaw.
Even in sleep, his brow is furrowed with worry.
A rush of tenderness rushes through me at the sight of him. I reach out, my movements slow and slightly clumsy from whatever painkillers they’ve got me on, and run my fingers through his hair.
The door opens with a quiet click, and I look up to see Helen Wilder step into the room. My eyes widen. Caleb’s mother. What is she doing here?
“Mrs. Wilder?” I croak. She looks at me and smiles.
“Eve, you’re finally awake.” Her voice is gentle but relieved. “How are you feeling, dear?”
I blink. “I—My stomach hurts.”
“It should,” Helen says, reaching for a water bottle and retrieving a straw from her bag.
Opening its seal she inserts it into the bottle and holds it out to me.
“Here, drink. Very slow sips.” As I take a few grateful sips, she continues; “The knife narrowly missed your vital organs. You’re lucky.
They had to do a minor procedure, but they stitched you up. I’m so glad to see you awake, my dear.”
“Did I pass out in the ambulance?” I ask, trying to piece together my fragmented memories.
Helen nods. “Yes. You lost a fair amount of blood.”
My eyes drift back to Caleb, and worry squeezes my heart. “Is he okay?”
Helen follows my gaze, her eyes lingering on her son with an expression I can’t quite read.
“He is now,” she says quietly. She reaches out and smooths my hair back from my forehead in a surprisingly maternal gesture.
“The last time I saw Caleb shed tears was when he was five and scraped his knee on the pavement outside our house. You really have a hold on my son’s heart. ”
“What?” I can’t hide my shock. “Caleb cried?”
Helen’s lips curve into a sad smile. She leans down and, to my complete astonishment, places a gentle kiss on my cheek. “You saved him,” she whispers. “Thank you.”
Before I can process this bewildering turn of events, Helen straightens. “Your mother is outside. She’s been here since last night. One of your brothers is with her. They’ve all been coming and going. It’s been quite lively.”
“My family’s here?” I blink in surprise. “Who called them?”
“Caleb did,” Helen says with a small smile. “As soon as you were brought in. He thought they should know.”
I feel a wave of emotion at this. Before I can say anything further, Caleb stirs, his breathing changing rhythm.
Helen steps back. “I’ll send her inside in a bit. You two should talk first.” With a final meaningful look, she slips out of the room just as Caleb lifts his head.
His eyes find mine, cloudy with sleep for only a second before sharp awareness takes its place. He immediately gets to his feet, relief washing over his face as he reaches out to touch my cheek, his fingers slightly trembling.
“Eve,” he says, my name soft on his lips. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m mostly fine,” I say, trying to sound casual despite the emotions clogging my throat. I reach out to cup his face, my thumb brushing against the stubble on his cheek. “Are you okay?”
He leans forward until our foreheads touch, his eyes closing briefly. “Now that you’re awake, I am.” My heart hammers against my ribs. I’ve never seen him this unguarded, this vulnerable.
“How long was I out?” I ask.
“Since last night,” he says, checking his watch. “It’s the next afternoon.”
The launch. The campaign. Everything we’ve worked for. “What about the launch?”
“It’s fine,” Caleb says, his hand covering mine where it rests against his cheek. “Ethan and Joshua are handling it.”
Joshua. The memory of him fighting with Steven flashes through my mind. “Is Joshua okay? He was hurt.”
“Just a few bruises,” Caleb assures me. “He’s fine.”
I sigh, leaning back against the pillows as a stab of pain shoots through my side. The stitches pull uncomfortably.
Caleb notices my grimace. “I’ll call for the nurse—”
“No,” I interrupt, reaching for his hand. “I’m okay. I don’t want more painkillers yet. I need to be clearheaded.” I pause, memories from last night flashing through my mind. “What happened to Steven?”
Caleb’s expression darkens, a flash of that same rage I saw when he attacked Steven last night. “He’s in jail.”
“What about his wife and kids?” I ask, genuinely concerned. “They must be devastated.”
“Steven doesn’t have a family,” Caleb says, his voice hard. “He’s single. Those kids were models from his hometown. Two kids he paid to pose for photos.” His lip curls with disgust. “What better cover than a father trying to support his family? Nobody suspects a family man.”
I stare at him in shock, remembering all the times we’d included Steven in office events. “Flora used to get his ‘kids’ Christmas presents,” I murmur, feeling sick at the depth of his deception. “She’d knit them sweaters. I can’t believe he played such a long con.”
“That’s exactly what it was,” Caleb says grimly. “Steven does this for a living. Companies hire him to infiltrate their competitors. He works undercover for two, three years at a time, building trust, collecting information—then disappears.”
“What a mess,” I sigh, trying to process everything. Then I groan, covering my eyes with one hand. “I can’t believe I actually suspected Joshua. If he finds out, he’ll never let me forget it.”
Caleb smiles slightly. “To be fair, he was acting shifty. Turns out he’s the nephew of Martin Reed on our board. Joshua actually got the job here on his own merits, but when Martin started suspecting information leaks, he asked Joshua to keep an eye out.”
“Joshua? Playing detective?” I can barely wrap my head around it. “The same Joshua who once got his tie caught in the paper shredder?”
“The very same,” Caleb confirms with a nod. “He’s been quietly looking into things for weeks. He suspected Steven but couldn’t find solid proof.”
His eyes settle on me, and his gaze intensifies. “I don’t care about any of that right now.” His voice drops, becoming fierce. “If I’m ever in danger again, you are never to step in. Do you understand me?”
I narrow my eyes, irritation flaring despite the warm fuzzy feelings I’ve been harboring. “You can’t tell me what to do, Caleb.” But as I meet his eyes, I’m shocked by what I see there. Not anger. Not arrogance. But raw, unfiltered fear. He looks… scared.
“I can’t see you like that again,” he says, his voice unsteady. “You don’t know what you looked like.”
The realization that he’s not commanding but pleading hits me like a wave. I soften, reaching for him again. “Hey. I’m fine.”
He bows his head, shoulders tensing. “I can’t stop seeing you bleeding out. Every time I close my eyes, it’s all I see.”
I wrap my arms around him as carefully as I can with my injury, pulling him closer. “I’m not going anywhere,” I whisper into his hair.
Helen’s words echo in my mind. I’ve never seen my son cry before. My heart squeezes painfully in my chest, and I make a decision. For once in my life, I’ll be the one to take the leap first.
His arms come to wrap around my neck, and I can feel how unsteady his breathing is.
“I love you,” I say, the words hanging in the air between us. Caleb goes completely still in my arms, not even breathing. When he tries to pull back to look at me, I tighten my grip. “Don’t,” I warn, suddenly scared. “It took all my courage to say that.”
But Caleb is persistent. He pulls back anyway, his hands coming up to cup my face. His eyes are searching mine, intense and hopeful. “Say it again,” he pleads softly.
I huff. “No.”
“Please,” he says, and there’s something in his voice I’ve never heard before. Need.
“I love you,” I repeat, barely above a whisper, unable to meet his eyes.
A smile breaks across his face, brilliant and unrestrained. “Will you believe me if I tell you I love you, too?” he asks. My eyes widen, my heart stuttering in my chest. “I love you, Eve Lopez,” he says again, his thumbs stroking my cheeks. “I’ve been in love with you for months.”
“You have?” I breathe, hardly daring to believe it.
“I don’t know since when, but you’re all I can think about. I’m stupidly in love with you.”
I laugh, then wince as pain shoots through my side.
He kisses me, soft and careful at first, mindful of my injuries. But when I thread my fingers through his hair and pull him closer, the kiss deepens, becomes something hungry and desperate and full of everything we’ve been holding back.
When we break apart, we’re both breathing hard. Caleb rests his forehead against mine again, his eyes closed. “You scared me,” he admits. “When I saw you bleeding... I thought I’d lost you before I ever really had you.”
“I’m tougher than I look,” I tell him, but my voice isn’t quite steady.
“I don’t want you to have to be tough.” His fingers comb my hair, his eyes intense. “I just want you to be okay, to be safe. No more picking fights with people twice your size. No more getting stabbed for me. I don’t think I can handle it.”
I frown. “You make it sound as if I have a habit of doing both.”
“Eve.”
“Fine,” I sigh. “Can you call my family in so that I can get this over with? I’m going to need pain medication after they’re gone.”
“Okay.” He kisses me on the nose before heading out.
A few minutes later, my mother rushes in, followed by Marco and Rafael.
“Mija!” My mother is pale. “You’re finally awake.”
“Eve.” Marco squeezes my hand, kissing me on the forehead. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m better. I just woke up. How long have you guys been here?”