Chapter 141
Elena's POV
"I've wanted to talk to him about it so many times," I whispered. "But I can't. How do I apologize for that?"
"Does he remember?"
"I don't know. Maybe. Probably." I closed my eyes. "I'm terrified he hates me for it."
"But you still chose him."
"Because he's the only person who's ever looked at me like I'm..." I struggled for the word. "Real. Not perfect Elena who does what she's told. Not the girl who needs to be fixed or managed or traded away. Just... me."
Mom was quiet. Then: "I have to be honest with you. I didn't want you with him at first."
My chest tightened.
"Someone who grew up like that," she continued slowly, "they learn to survive. To manipulate. To hide what they really feel." She paused. "I was afraid he'd hurt you. That all that damage would make him cruel."
"But?"
"But the things he's done for you..." She shook her head. "He'd burn the world down for you, Elena. That boy would walk into fire if you asked him to."
Something warm unfurled in my chest.
"So here's what I think," Mom said firmly. "You need to stop running. Stop second-guessing. If you want him, then fight for him. Show him you're not going anywhere this time."
"I don't know how—"
"You start by being honest. About what you did, about why you did it, about what you want now." She cupped my face, forcing me to meet her eyes. "No more hiding, sweetheart. Not from him, and not from yourself."
I nodded slowly.
"There's something else." I bit my lip. "I was thinking... maybe I could stay here with him? Not just for a few days. Actually stay. So we can—so I can show him I'm serious."
Mom's eyebrows rose. "You want to move in with him?"
My face burned. "Is that—is that wrong?"
She wasn't judgmental, just matter-of-fact. "That's a big step."
"I know." I twisted my hands together. "But how else do I prove I'm not going to run again? Words aren't enough. I need to... to be there. To show him every day that I chose him."
"And what will you say when he asks why you suddenly want to move in?"
I hadn't thought that far ahead. "I'll tell him the truth. That I want to be close to him. That I want—" I faltered. "That I want him to know I'm staying."
Mom studied me for a long moment. Then, surprisingly, she smiled.
"You know what? Good for you. It's about time you went after what you want."
"You're not mad?"
"Your situation isn't exactly normal, honey. Traditional rules don't really apply." She squeezed my hand. "But you'll have to actually ask him. And he might say no."
The thought made my stomach drop.
"Then I'll just have to be very persuasive," I said, trying to sound confident.
Mom laughed softly. "There's my girl. Just remember—be that brave in front of him too."
We talked until nearly dawn, both of us too wired to sleep. When she finally left, I lay in the dark thinking about Caleb.
I had to make him believe it was real. Had to make him see that I wasn't settling, wasn't using him as a backup plan.
I just hoped I wasn't too late.
---
Morning came too fast. I checked my phone and my heart stopped.
Multiple missed calls from Damon. Messages time-stamped throughout the night.
Where are you?
Why aren't you answering?
Are you in danger?
This is Caleb's idea, isn't it?
I'm going to find him and we're going to have a talk.
The last message was sent at 3:47 AM.
My hands shook as I dialed Caleb's number. It rang. And rang.
No answer.
I tried again. Same result.
My heart was racing now, a sick dread spreading through my chest. Damon wouldn't actually go after Caleb. Would he? But even as I tried to convince myself, I remembered the barely controlled rage in his texts.
I threw off the covers and grabbed the first clothes I could find, my mind conjuring increasingly terrible scenarios. Damon confronting Caleb. A fight breaking out. Caleb getting hurt because of me.
"Elena?" Mom's voice came from the hallway. "What's wrong?"
"I have to go," I said, rushing past her. "Damon might be looking for Caleb. I need to—I have to make sure he's okay."
I didn't wait for her response. I was already out the door.
---
The taxi ride felt endless. I tried calling two more times, my grip on the phone so tight my knuckles went white. Each time the voicemail picked up, the knot in my chest twisted tighter.
When the taxi finally stopped in front of his manor, I paid the driver and stumbled out of the car. I practically ran toward the door.
My heart didn't settle until I saw Caleb come out.
He was fine. Completely fine. His eyebrows drew together as he took in my appearance—I must have looked like a mess.
"What are you running from?" he asked, his voice that familiar low tone.
Hector stood a few steps behind him, arms crossed, watching me with curiosity.
"I—" I couldn't catch my breath. "Your phone. You didn't answer. I thought—"
"Left it upstairs," Caleb said, his frown deepening. "Hector and I went out for breakfast."
The relief hit me so hard my knees almost buckled. He was here. He was safe. Damon hadn't found him.
"Did Damon come looking for you?" The words tumbled out before I could stop them.