Watching her come apart like that, hearing the terror in her voice, feeling her cling to me—it stayed with me long after the night was over. I was worried about her in a way that went deeper than concern. It felt instinctive. Protective.
I wanted her walls to come down. I wanted her to let her guard drop, even just a little. I wanted her to trust me. I wanted to know everything—her joy, her sorrow, her pain, her fears. All of it. I didn’t want the edited version of her life.
I wantedthe truth.
Even if it was ugly. Even if it hurt.
I needed to find out.
If she couldn’t tell me herself, then I would start where I could. I spoke to Elle and Donna, hoping they might have noticed something—some hint of what she had been carrying so quietly—but they had no answers. Or maybe they had simply decided it wasn’t their story to tell.
Now, when the food arrived, I revealed the second part of my surprise.
“Guys,” I said, glancing around the table, “I was wondering if all of you would like to celebrate New Year’s at my parents’ party this year?”
Everyone paused mid-bite, forks hovering, expressions unreadable.
“My family throws a party every year,” I continued, suddenly aware of the silence. “I thought maybe this year we could all celebrate together. It’s usually black-tie, but you don’t have to dress up if you don’t want to. What do you think?”
For a moment, I wondered if I’d made a mistake. They looked at me, then at Nyah, then back at me. Slowly, smiles spread around the table. Excitement followed—except for Nyah. She looked distracted and almost troubled.
On the drive back to her apartment, I casually said, “By the way, I was wondering if you and Lucas would like to spend Christmas with my family and me this year.”
The shock on her face was immediate. She opened her mouth to answer, clearly scrambling for words, but Lucas beat her to it.
“Yes!” he yelled. “We will! We will!”
I laughed, but I didn’t miss the way her brow creased.
“Does your family know you’ve invited us?” she asked, biting her lip.
She should not have done that.God.I had to physically restrain the thought that followed—the urge to lean in, to bite that same lip and see how she would react. I shut it down instantly, forcing my mind back into line.Get it together, Caleb. She’s just your friend. That’s all she wants to be.I looked away before she caught anything in my expression.
Her question lingered, pulling me back into safer territory. I replayed the conversation with my parents in my head, every word stillclear, and focused on how to answer her instead of everything I shouldn’t be thinking at all.
“That’s a wonderful idea, son,” my father had said, his smile wide and genuine.
My mother hadn’t shared the same enthusiasm. Her posture had stiffened, her expression tight.
“Yes,” I told Nyah carefully. “They know, and they’re absolutely fine with it.”
I meant it. Or at least, I believed it would be true.
As I dropped her and Lucas off at their apartment, a quiet certainty harboured inside me: once my mother met Nyah, she would love her. Just like Dad did. Just like I already did.
Keeping silent about how I felt for her hadn’t made those feelings fade. If anything, they had grown stronger—deeper, more stubborn.
I had tried dating other women after she shut me down, convincing myself that moving on was the sensible thing to do.
It hadn’t worked.
Every road somehow led back to her. I caught myself measuring every woman I met against her without even meaning to, and none of them ever came close. There was no comparison. There never had been.
She had asked for friendship, and she had been clear about it. I respected that. The last thing I wanted was to pressure her into something she wasn’t ready for.
And yet, despite wanting so much more, simply being near her had somehow become enough—standing beside her, helping her when she needed it, holding her when she let me.
Even if that was all I was ever allowed to be.
