Chapter 148
Elena's POV
Hector's eyes went wide, like I'd just announced I was moving to Mars. "You're serious?"
I forced myself to hold my ground. "I'm staying here." I turned to Caleb. "I mean... do you have a problem with me being here?"
Hector leaned back into the couch, sprawling out. "I think it's great." His eyes slid toward Caleb with barely concealed amusement. "I'm just wondering if someone else finds it convenient."
I clenched my jaw, refusing to look away from Caleb. He was watching me over the rim of his mug, expression unreadable, those dark eyes giving nothing away. The silence stretched until I couldn't stand it anymore.
"Do what you want." Caleb's voice was flat. "You don't need my permission."
Relief flooded through me so fast I felt dizzy. I whirled back to Hector. "Then I'm moving in. Today."
Hector's grin turned wicked. "Sure. But I'm not helping you carry boxes."
"I didn't ask you to."
"Good. Because I wasn't going to."
I shot him a glare, but he just shrugged, scrolling through his phone like this was the most entertaining thing that had happened all week. Maybe it was.
---
The drive back to the apartment felt surreal. Caleb didn't say much, just kept his eyes on the road while I sat in the passenger seat, hands folded in my lap, trying not to fidget. When we arrived at the apartment, I noticed my mom on the balcony, pacing in tight circles.
We opened the door to find my mother with her phone pressed to her ear, talking about something work-related.
I frowned. Caleb gestured for me to check on her while he sat on the nearby couch to wait.
I nodded and walked onto the balcony. Mom had already ended the call. She looked exhausted.
"Work?" I asked softly.
"Starport. Good pay, but it's five hours by plane," she said, voice strained.
"Are you going?"
"Just... exploring options. Nothing's decided yet."
Caleb walked over. "Mrs. Cross, Elena and I just discussed it—I'd like her to move in with me. Is that alright?"
She froze for a second, then spoke. "You're engaged. Living together makes sense. You don't need my permission."
"I'll go pack," I said, relieved.
Mom followed me in. Once we were in my room, she closed the door behind us.
"Elena." Her voice was soft but serious. "Are you sure about this?"
I paused. "About staying with him?"
"About him." She sat on the edge of my bed, hands folded in her lap. "You used to bully him. You left him. Twice." Her eyes met mine. "Those things don't just disappear. They leave marks. Scars."
My throat tightened. "I know."
"I'll try to fix it. I don't know if I can, but I have to try. I can't keep running away from him." I continued, biting my lip.
She studied me for a long moment, then sighed and pulled me into a hug. I buried my face in her shoulder, breathing in her familiar scent.
"Then go," she murmured.
I came out of the room with my bag. His eyes flicked to the single duffel slung over my shoulder, then to the suitcase in my other hand.
He didn't comment. Just stepped forward and took the suitcase from me without a word.
We said goodbye to Mom, then headed to the parking lot.
He loaded my things into the trunk. When he returned to the driver's seat, his scent had changed—cold, sharp, like winter pressing in too close. I sensed something beneath the surface.
I wanted to ask what was wrong. But the hard set of his jaw stopped me.
We drove in silence.
---
By the time we got back to the manor, it was evening. Hector was sprawled on the couch, takeout containers spread across the coffee table. He glanced up as we walked in, eyes flicking between us with open curiosity.
"So," he said slowly. "Where's she sleeping?"
"The guest room," Caleb said, already heading for the stairs with my bag.
Hector's brow furrowed. "Then where do I sleep?"
Caleb paused, turning back with that blank, unreadable expression. "You'll take the room at the end of the hall."
"But that one's smaller—"
"Hector."
The single word was quiet. Firm. Hector held up his hands in mock surrender. "Fine, fine. I'll move my stuff."
Caleb glanced at me. "Let him finish first, then you can move in."
I nodded.
Soon the room was cleared.
He set my bag down in the guest room—the same one I'd stayed in before.
"Thank you," I said quietly.
He didn't respond. Just gave a short nod and turned to leave.
---
That night, I couldn't sleep.
I lay in the dark, staring at the ceiling. My mind wouldn't settle.
Why had his mood dropped after we left my mother's place?
Finally, I gave up. Slipping out of bed, I padded barefoot into the hallway. The house was dark and still, moonlight spilling through the tall windows in pale, silver sheets. I made my way downstairs, drawn by some instinct I didn't understand.
And then I saw him.
"Caleb?" My voice came out barely above a whisper.
"It's me." His voice was low, rough around the edges.
I hesitated, then moved closer, until I was standing just a few feet away. The moonlight caught the sharp lines of his face. He looked... tired.
"Couldn't sleep?" I asked softly.
"Something like that." He finally lifted his head, eyes finding mine in the dark. They were shadowed, guarded, but there was something underneath—something raw and unspoken.
I bit my lip. "Me neither."
Silence stretched between us, heavy and charged. I wanted to say something, to bridge the gap that felt like it was growing wider with every passing second.
Then I made a decision I couldn't quite believe myself.
"Do you want to come to the guest room?" My voice was quiet, almost careful. "Sleep with me?"