Chapter 68 Late
CALEB
I stayed at Mia’s apartment longer than I meant to.
That had started happening a lot recently.
Time moved differently there.
Slower maybe.
Or just quieter in my head.
Jamie eventually made pizza rolls and nearly burned them because he walked away halfway through to argue with somebody online about hockey stats. Mom fell asleep on the couch during the second cooking show of the night with a blanket pulled over her legs.
Normal apartment sounds filled the space around us.
Cabinets opening.
The television running softly in the background.
Jamie yelling “that was literally interference” at his headset from down the hall.
Ordinary life.
I sat at the kitchen table while Mia rinsed mugs in the sink.
“You do not have to clean everything immediately,” I told her.
“I know.”
She kept washing the mug anyway.
“You say that every time.”
“Because you keep saying it.”
Fair.
I watched her dry the mug slowly before setting it back in the cabinet.
There was something calming about watching someone move around a space they knew completely. No hesitation. No thinking about where things belonged.
I realized suddenly how familiar this apartment had become to me.
The sound the hallway floor made near Jamie’s room.
Which cabinet held plates.
How the kitchen light flickered slightly if you turned it on too quickly.
Small things.
The kind you only noticed after spending enough time somewhere that it stopped feeling temporary.
That thought stayed in my chest longer than I wanted it to.
Mia turned toward me finally.
“You are doing the staring thing again.”
“What staring thing.”
“The one where you look emotionally complicated.”
I leaned back slightly in the chair.
“That feels insulting.”
“It is accurate though.”
I almost smiled.
Almost.
She sat down across from me again and pulled one knee slightly toward her chest in the chair.
“You want honest advice,” she asked.
“I feel like I am about to regret saying yes.”
“You probably are.”
I sighed quietly.
“Go ahead.”
Mia rested her chin briefly against her hand.
“I think you need to stop treating this like one decision.”
I frowned slightly.
“It is one decision.”
“No,” she said immediately. “It is like six decisions stacked on top of each other.”
I stayed quiet.
Because that sounded frustratingly correct.
“You are thinking about hockey,” she continued. “But also your dad. And us. And leaving home. And whether wanting more automatically makes you selfish.”
I looked at her carefully.
“You already solved the whole thing apparently.”
“I did not solve it,” she replied. “I just noticed you keep combining different fears into one giant problem.”
The apartment settled quietly around us.
I rubbed my thumb absently against the side of the mug in front of me.
“What if I leave and everything changes,” I asked quietly.
Mia looked at me steadily.
“Everything is already changing.”
That answer landed immediately.
Because it was true.
The championship already changed things.
The scouts changed things.
Halifax changed things.
Even sitting here like this changed things.
Nothing was staying the same anymore no matter how badly I wanted parts of it to.
I looked down at the table for a second.
“When did you get so smart,” I muttered.
“I have always been smart. You were just annoying in high school.”
“That is fair.”
She smiled slightly at that.
Small.
Tired around the edges.
But real.
I watched her for a second longer than necessary.
Then said quietly, “I do not want long distance to ruin this.”
The smile faded gently from her face.
Honest again.
“That scares me too,” she admitted.
Neither of us spoke after that.
Because there was nothing useful to add immediately.
Fear was just there sometimes.
Saying it out loud did not magically remove it.
From the living room Jamie suddenly yelled, “WHO ATE MY OTHER PIZZA ROLL.”
Mia did not even blink.
“You left them in the oven for thirty minutes.”
“That does not mean they were free.”
I let out a quiet laugh before I could stop myself.
Mia pointed lightly toward the hallway.
“See. Real problems.”
“That does help slightly.”
“I know.”
Silence settled again after that.
Softer this time.
Less tense.
Mia looked toward the clock above the microwave.
“It is almost midnight.”
I looked too.
I had not realized I stayed that long.
“You should probably sleep.”
“That feels unrealistic.”
“You look exhausted.”
“I am emotionally exhausted. Different medical category.”
“I am studying nursing. I can confirm that is not real.”
I stood up slowly from the table.
My body felt heavy in that tired way that comes more from thinking too much than physical exhaustion.
Mia walked me toward the door quietly.
The apartment lights were dim now.
Mom still asleep on the couch.
Jamie finally silent in his room for once.
At the door I stopped for a second.
Neither of us spoke immediately.
I looked at her.
Really looked at her.
Tired hoodie.
Hair half falling out of the messy tie.
Bare feet against the apartment floor.
No cameras.
No contract.
Still the most important person in the room every time.
My chest tightened unexpectedly.
“Mia.”
“Yeah.”
I hesitated.
Not because I did not know what I wanted to say.
Because I did.
“I love you,” I said quietly.
Simple.
No dramatic timing attached to it.
Just true.
Something softened immediately in her expression.
“I know,” she replied softly.
Then after a second:
“I love you too.”
The words settled somewhere deep in my chest.
Steady.
Certain.
I leaned down and kissed her slowly.
Not rushed.
Not desperate.
Just familiar now.
When I pulled back slightly, she rested her forehead briefly against mine.
“You are going to figure it out,” she said quietly.
“I hope so.”
“You will.”
There was too much confidence in her voice.
I let out a small breath through my nose.
“You believe in me a suspicious amount.”
“Somebody has to.”
I kissed her once more quickly before stepping back.
Then finally opened the door.
The hallway outside felt colder immediately.
I looked back once before leaving.
She was still standing there watching me.
Not sad exactly.
Just thoughtful.
“Text me when you get home,” she said.
“Yes nurse.”
“You are not funny enough to keep reusing that joke.”
“I strongly disagree.”
That finally made her laugh properly.
Small sound.
Still enough to stay with me all the way down the hallway.