The soft morning sun illuminated the villa windows, and its light reflected on the expensive marble floors. The rain had stopped for the moment, giving the garden sparkling dew, and for an instant the world seemed to be calm and I believed that everything was all right. I lay in bed with Caspian, his arm draped over me in a loose hold, and allowed myself to drift into silence. For all we’d already been through—the intruder, Victor’s stalking, the lying awake nights with fear—it was this peace that was as fragile as a bubble of soap.
I had flipped over in the bed to stretch and grab my phone to see what was going on in the world while playfully reminding Caspian about breakfast when silence was shattered by a single message. My heart pounding faster, my eyes fixated on the sender’s name: Nathaniel Carter. The name clogged my heartbeat into a stutter—a memory flashback I had so fervently tried to forget. My shaking hands lingered there until I read the message in full:
“I hope you are fine. I couldn’t help but think of you. I miss you, Lily. I hope he is taking care of you.”
—Nathaniel
A shiver of fear coursed through my veins. I thrust the phone beneath my pillow, trying to push the panic wedged in my throat down into my chest. Caspian shifted beside me, his chest rising and then falling with shuddering but unstable breaths. I reached out to sweep his hair back from his face, trying to find a grasp onto the warmth of his skin.
“Lily?” His voice husky, his voice intoxicated with sleep. His one eye opening and him looking at me, noticing my gaze at the pillow, my face enraged. Alarm was evident on his face as he rolled up with a burst of energy, his eyes flashing bright and wide. “What is it?”
I grew tense, my heart thumping. “Nothing,” I exhaled against the pillow, folding it tight around me. But Caspian did not buy it. His were well skilled at discerning every expression and now his were scrunched up suspicion.
“Lily,” he breathed, leaning in toward me and very softly tugging the pillow away from under my arm. “Don’t keep things from me, tell me what’s wrong with you.” He seared me with his vivid eyes, and I felt all the burden of secrets that I ever did.
I pinched my eyes tight, trying to steady my voice. “A text message from someone I hadn’t spoken to for a long time now,” I was able to stammer, the words sounding nearly as hollow even to me.
Caspian’s expression was one of intent, puzzled determination. “Who?”
I took a deeper breath and tried to take the honesty path. “Nathaniel Carter.”
He sat there with shock etched on his face, the name ringing in him like a blow. He did not say anything for a moment, and the silence between us hovered in the air like a rough empty chasm. And then he got up and went over to the window and stood his back to me looking out into the garden.
“Why in the world would he—” He broke into tears, and then he just stopped as if contemplating what to do next.”.
I sat in silence, watching him, my heart pounding with terror and shame. Nathaniel was my first love, the biggest mistake of my existence. I had fled from him, from everyone, and tried to move on with Caspian. And here, now, stood Nathaniel, trying to enter into my world once again.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, rising and standing next to him. My hand on his shoulder, but he didn’t look back at me.
Why now?” he breathed, his voice tight and raw but heavy with emotions. “After all we’ve been through—after Victor—why in the world would he call now to apologize?”
I fought to find something to say. “I don’t know,” I attempted. “Perhaps he’s lonely. Perhaps he misses me. But that’s irrelevant. You’re the one I want.”.
Caspian’s shoulders slumped slightly, the tension in his posture softening by just a fraction. He turned to face me, his dark eyes blazing with a mixture of love and hurt. “I know I’m protective,” he said quietly, “but this… this feels different. It feels like a test.”
I reached out and touched fingers to the curve of his face, skimming over the rough stubble. “You’re not a jailer, Cass. You’re my partner. I need you to trust me. I need you to trust that I choose you.”
He winced, bracing himself. When his eyes flickered open again, though, they were warm. “Show me,” he whispered. “Show me you’re with me.”
I nodded, leaning to kiss him—slowly, tenderly, with the sincerity of my heart. His arms came around me, pulling me tight. Tension was shed from the hug, and space was made for the pounding beat of his heart in my ear.
He drew back after one heartbeat, forehead against mine. “All right,” he said, his voice rough. “We’ll do this together.”
By lunchtime, we were out of the villa and leaving it behind us, to take back our lives. Beyond our gates was a new world of colors and horror—of so many lives, so many faces, and so much liberty we had so nearly lost. Caspian drove us down the dusty sunny roads, our wrists bound in front of him in the front car. Occasionally I’d sneak a glance, and in the eager eyes of his find a resolve that Nathaniel’s prose would never permit him to forget what we’d agreed.
We sat side by side in a tiny harbor-front café—a place I had discovered on one of my initial strolls with Caspian. There remained the lingering taste of salt and baking bread in the air, and the muted clinking of cups against saucers blending with the distant shriek of seagulls. We stood near the window, sunbeam streaks splattered and spotty with mottled patterns on the wooden floor.
Tell me everything,” Caspian instructed, his voice stern but kind. He reached forward to place his hand over mine.