Chapter 142
Elena's POV
Something shifted in Caleb's expression. "No. Why would he?"
I pulled out my phone with shaking hands and showed him the messages. His jaw tightened as he read, a muscle jumping in his cheek. When he looked up, his eyes had gone darker, more focused.
"He thinks you forced me into this," I explained quickly. "The engagement, everything. He thinks I'm—that you're making me do something I don't want. So he's going to come find you."
Before he could answer, Hector spoke up. "Elena. Look at the trouble you've brought to our doorstep." His tone was light but his eyes were hard. "First the engagement fiasco, now your ex-fiancé making threats. You're really racking up the complications."
I felt my face go hot with shame. He was right. Everything was a mess because of me.
"Hector," Caleb said, his voice carrying a warning.
But Hector wasn't done. "I'm serious, Caleb. When has she ever stood up for you? When has she ever put herself on the line for you the way you do for her every damn day?"
"Stop." Caleb's tone had gone sharp.
I couldn't look at either of them. My throat felt tight, my eyes burning. Because Hector was right. He was absolutely right.
"I will," I said suddenly. The words came out fierce, almost desperate. "I will protect him. From now on, I will."
Both of them went still.
I forced myself to meet Caleb's eyes. "I know I haven't before. I know I've been—" My voice cracked but I pushed through. "But I'm going to do better. I'm going to protect you."
Hector let out a bark of laughter. "You? Protect him?" He shook his head, grinning now. "How exactly are you going to do that, Elena? Are you going to scare Damon away with your fangs? Or..."
"Hector." Caleb's voice cut through the mockery like a blade. "Enough."
Hector raised his hands in mock surrender, still grinning. "Just being honest, boss."
"Then go be honest somewhere else."
"I'm leaving then. Got a date anyway." Hector checked his watch and walked away still laughing.
I stood there, face burning, feeling about two inches tall.
"Don't listen to him," Caleb said quietly.
I couldn't meet his eyes. "But he's right though. I'm not strong enough to—"
"Elena." He waited until I looked up. "That's not what I need from you."
My chest ached. "Then what do you need?"
He didn't answer. Just studied my face for a long moment, like he was trying to solve an equation that didn't quite add up.
"Is Hector really angry at me?" I asked, to fill the silence.
"He really does have a date."
"But is he—"
"He's been moody lately. Don't take it personally."
I noticed people walking past us. The employees glancing over with barely concealed curiosity.
Caleb must have noticed too. His hand closed around my wrist, gentle but firm, pulling me toward the house.
His touch sent that familiar warmth through me. I found myself leaning slightly toward him without meaning to, drawn by his scent—ice and cedar and something darker underneath.
God, I'd missed this. Missed being close to him. It had been two days since the engagement disaster, but it felt like longer. Everything felt longer when I wasn't near him.
He let go of my wrist too soon. I felt the loss of his touch like a physical thing, cold spreading where his hand had been.
"So how do you want to handle Damon?"
I took a breath. "I need to talk to him. To explain. Can I—would it be okay if I called him? Or maybe I could meet him somewhere and—"
"You want to meet with him."
"Just to explain," I said quickly. "He thinks you pushed me into this. I need to tell him it was my choice. That you didn't—"
"And you think he'll listen?"
"I have to try." I twisted my hands together. "If I could just talk to him, maybe I could make him understand. Or at least—" I swallowed hard. "At least I could get him to leave you alone."
"If you want to meet with Damon," Caleb said, his voice low, "that's your choice. You don't need my permission."
"But do you—" I struggled to find the right words. "Are you okay with it?"
He studied me for a long moment. "Why does it matter what I think?"
"Because—" Because you're my fiancé now. Because I chose you. Because your opinion matters more than anything. "Because I don't want to do anything that would make you uncomfortable."
"Uncomfortable," he repeated, like he was testing the word. "Is that what you think I'd be?"
"I don't know what you'd be. That's why I'm asking."
Caleb leaned back slightly, still watching me with that intense focus that made me feel like he could see straight through me. "Elena, if Damon wants to come here, let him. I'm not going to hide from him. I'm not afraid of what he might do or say."
"But—"
"I'm not the same person I was when we were kids." His voice was very steady, very calm. "If he wants to confront me, he can. But he's going to find out I'm not an easy target anymore."
The certainty in his voice sent a shiver through me. This wasn't bravado or empty posturing. This was simple fact, delivered with the kind of cold confidence that came from knowing exactly what you were capable of.
We sat on the couch for a while, both reluctant to leave.
I should go. He still had his own work to do. But I couldn't seem to make myself move.
"There's something else," I heard myself say.
Caleb raised an eyebrow, waiting.
My heart was hammering now. This was crazy. This was too fast, too presumptuous. But I'd already started talking and I couldn't seem to stop.
"I was thinking—" I took a breath. "What if I stayed with you. Maybe if I'm here, then Damon would have no reason to come to you because I'd be right here and I could—"
"Elena." His voice was careful. "Are you asking to move in with me?"
Oh god. That's exactly what I was asking.