Chapter 15
Ever since Caleb got hurt saving Lena, Robert had been inviting him over for meals every few days. With Robert’s subtle nudging, Caleb and Lena quickly grew close.
“Mr. Norwood asked me to bring you some fruit,” Caleb said, setting a tray beside Lena’s easel.
Lena nodded, her brush still moving across the canvas, showing no signs of pausing.
Caleb settled onto a nearby stool, watching her paint with quiet focus.
When Lena finished the piece and stretched, she noticed that he was still there. “You’re still here?” she asked, surprised.
Caleb stood up and stepped behind her to admire the painting.
“What do you think? Is it okay?” she asked.
He nodded. “It’s stunning.”
Lena’s curiosity flickered again. “Have we met before?”
She’d asked Robert the same question before, but he always brushed it off with a smile. When she asked Caleb, his usual response was, remember, don’t worry about it.”
This time, though, he surprised her. “Have dinner with me tomorrow, and I’ll tell you.”
“If you don’t
Lena knew Caleb was interested in her, but she wasn’t ready for a relationship. Still, she saw this as a chance to clear the air. “Okay,” she said.
Caleb picked a Rirosian restaurant for their dinner. When Lena arrived, he was already waiting with a warm smile on his face.
A waiter led Lena to their table, and Caleb handed her a bouquet of jasmine wrapped in delicate paper.
Lena breathed in the soft scent. “Thank you. I love these.”
Seizing the moment, Caleb asked, “And me?”
Lena froze, searching for words. “Caleb, I think-”
But he cut her off gently, saying, “No need to shut me down yet. The food here’s amazing. Let’s eat first.”
Caleb was a thoughtful suitor. At school, he looked out for her and was always respectful in their conversations. He never crossed a line that made her
uneasy.
But Micah had broken her heart and trampled the love that she’d given him. Thinking of him soured Lena’s mood. She barely touched her food and opted to simply sip wine until a warm haze settled over her.
Caleb gently took her glass. “Slow down, or you’ll be tipsy soon.”
Lena met his gaze, the wine loosening her tongue. “How did we meet before? Why can’t I remember you at all?”
Before Caleb could answer, she murmured, “I don’t want to love again. It hurts too much.” Her words, heavy with buried pain, spilled out in her tipsy
state.
Caleb pieced together the fragments of her story, his gaze softening with empathy. He reached out and lightly tapped her nose. “If only I’d told you how I felt sooner. I met you first, after all.”
