“Sorry, I just thought…” I stopped and leaned slightly against the wall. “Never mind. Hi.”
God, it’s good to hear his voice.
I hated how things had been left between us.Friend.The way he’d said it stung more than I wanted to admit. We had been getting close—close enough that he wanted answers I wasn’t ready to give.
I had only told Harper because he had found out. Would I have told him otherwise?
I didn’t know.
Caleb had been right about one thing, though. He had shared everything—his childhood, his mistakes, his past—while I had given him fragments.
Work.
Lucas.
Safe stories.
Pieces of my life, but notme.
And the truth was, I never cried. Not with him. Not with Harper. Not even with Lucas. I’d made sure of that. Crying meant vulnerability, and vulnerability meant risk—especially with Jeremy back in the city.
It wasn’t that Caleb couldn’t handle the truth.
It was that I couldn’t risk what it might cost him—or anyone else—if I told it.
“Are you home?” Caleb asked, snapping me out of my thoughts.
“Just about. I’m walking to the apartment now.” Why does this feel important?
“I have a question to ask you,” he said casually, like he wasn’t holding my attention hostage.
“Okay… shoot.”
“If you had one wish—just one—what would it be? You can’t wish for three more wishes.” He laughed.
He called to ask me this?I stopped walking and closed my eyes, letting the quiet stretch between us for a moment.
His face filled my mind instantly. I knew my answer before I even let myself think it through. If I could wish for anything—anything at all—it would be for him to be here. For him to celebrate my birthdaywith me. For us not to have had that fight. For things not to feel so fragile.
If only…
Knowing none of that was possible, I opened my eyes.
“Nyah,” he whispered into the phone. “Turn around.”
It took a moment for the words to land.
I turned.
Five yards behind me, standing in the hallway with a travel bag slung over his shoulder, a heavy coat buttoned up against the cold, and flowers clutched in his hand, stood a tired-looking Caleb.
“Happy birthday.”
My brain short-circuited.
“I’ll call you back,” I blurted, ending the call as I ran to him.
I threw my arms around him, hard enough to knock him back a step. Having a man in my arms again—this man—felt like stepping into something I’d been holding my breath for. He was exactly as I remembered, and somehow more. More solid. More present. Even through the thickness of his coat, I felt the strength of him, the warmth, the undeniable truth of his need for me—and it nourished me, radiating straight into my soul.
