Chapter 53
Elena's POV
I wiped my face with the back of my hand, trying to stop the tears. The heater was blasting, but I still felt cold.
"What are you doing here?" My voice came out raw.
Caleb kept his eyes on the road. "I'm here at the resort handling the service robot project."
Right. Of course. He wasn't here for me.
I reached for the door handle. "You can drop me at the gate. I'll catch a shuttle back."
"The shuttles stop running at seven." His voice was flat. "It's almost nine now."
My hand froze.
"Even if you get to the main entrance," he continued, "there won't be any public transport. We're two hours from Saint-Helier. Winter schedule is terrible."
I stared at my lap. I hadn't thought any of this through. Just grabbed my suitcase and walked into a blizzard like an idiot.
"Where were you planning to go?" he asked.
I didn't answer right away. Where was I going? Back to school? My parents' house?
"I don't know," I admitted quietly. "My brain just... stopped working. I needed to get out. I couldn't stay in that hotel another second."
Damon hadn't called. Not even a text. This time was different from all our other fights.
The car slowed. The windshield wipers beat steadily against the falling snow.
Caleb pulled out his phone and made a call. His voice went cold and professional—the kind of tone that didn't leave room for questions. I only caught fragments. Something about a sample unit. South sector.
When he hung up, he made a U-turn.
"There's a vacation house development in the south sector," he said. "Not officially open yet. Manager says there's a furnished sample unit available."
"Caleb, you don't have to—"
"It's at the far end of the resort." He glanced at me briefly. "Might be pretty isolated."
"That's fine," I said quickly. "As long as it's not that hotel."
Something in his expression shifted. Just for a moment.
We drove deeper into the resort. Past the main cluster of lodges and restaurants. The road got narrower. Fewer lights. Trees closing in on both sides, branches heavy with snow.
"You came here with Damon," Caleb said. Not a question.
"My father ordered me to."
I saw his jaw tighten.
"We have a marriage arrangement," I continued. The words came easier now. "The Cross family needs Vance protection. The alliance is important."
"Why didn't you tell your father he has a partner?"
I let out a bitter laugh. "Damon won't let me. Scarlett's background is complicated. Something about her father. Your family has standards. Reputation matters. They'd never accept her."
Caleb's jaw clenched harder. The air in the car felt heavier.
"So you're going to keep his secrets forever?" he asked quietly.
"I don't know." My voice cracked. "After today, maybe we can't even stay friends."
I told him about the ski slope. About Scarlett falling and hitting the tree.
"Damon believed her without question," I said. My hands were twisting the seatbelt. "I told him I didn't do it. But he'd already decided who to believe."
My fingers kept moving, knotting and unknotting the fabric.
Caleb didn't say anything. But I saw his knuckles go white on the steering wheel.
We pulled into what looked like a construction zone. Most of it was empty lots with equipment covered in tarps. Only a few finished buildings stood in the darkness, outlined by scattered lights.
A man in a heavy coat was waiting by one of the houses. He straightened immediately when he saw Caleb's car, looking nervous.
"Mr. Vance." He rushed over. "Everything's ready. We cleaned the sample unit this morning. It's a one-bedroom, designed for solo travelers, high-end finishes—"
"Show her," Caleb cut him off.
I followed them inside. The place was nice. Really nice. Modern and clean, with warm lighting and floor-to-ceiling windows looking out at dark mountain shapes.
"Heat and hot water are both on," the manager said quickly. "Fresh linens in the bedroom, kitchen is stocked with basics—"
"That's enough." Caleb's voice had gone completely flat. He turned to me. "Is this okay?"
"Yes. Thank you."
He went back to grab my suitcase. The manager tried to help but Caleb's look made him back off fast.
Caleb set my bag down near the bedroom but didn't go any further inside. He stayed close to the door, like he was keeping some invisible line between us.
The manager kept talking about development plans and timelines until Caleb's expression shut him up mid-sentence.
"We're done," Caleb said quietly.
The man left.
---
"Do you have everything you need?" he asked after I'd looked around the room.
I nodded.
His phone rang. He glanced at the screen. "Hector."
Background noise exploded through the speaker when he answered—music, voices, someone laughing too loud.
"Where are you?" Hector's voice cut through the noise.
"Had to take care of something."
He didn't elaborate. Just ended the call.
The silence felt thick.
"This place only fits one person," he paused. "Will you be okay alone?"
I nodded, suddenly desperate for him not to go but unable to say it.
I followed him to the door.
"Thank you," I said again. It sounded so inadequate.
"Lock the door," he repeated, voice low and careful. "Pull the curtains. Call if anything comes up."
"Okay."
I stood in the doorway watching him walk to his car.
When I finally closed the door, the silence crashed over me.
I walked to the windows. Outside, the development stretched into darkness—empty lots, construction equipment half-buried in snow, forest in the distance.
I felt like I was standing at the edge of the world. Like everyone had finally left me behind.
Everything hit at once. Scarlett's accusations. Damon's coldness. My father's threats. The family's expectations pressing down on me.
My shoulders gave out. My breathing went ragged.
---
Caleb's POV
I sat in the car with the engine off. Rolled down the window and lit a cigarette—something I almost never did anymore.
The area was dead. Just construction sites and darkness. I could see the manager's office from here, but it blocked my view of the house where I'd left her.
I should leave. Go handle business. But my body wouldn't move.
Something was pulling at me. Not logic. Not reason. Something deeper, clawing at my chest: Don't leave her alone.
My heartbeat was too fast. Too loud in the quiet.
I took another drag, staring at nothing through the falling snow.
Then I crushed the cigarette out.
I got out. Locked the car. Started walking back.
My steps came fast at first, like I was trying to outrun my own doubt. Then they slowed as I got closer.
My breath fogged white in the freezing air. Each exhale felt deliberate. Controlled.
When I reached the house, I saw she hadn't pulled the curtains. Light spilled out across the snow.
I stopped.
Through the window, I could see her sitting on the couch. Her face was buried in her hands. Her shoulders were shaking.
She was crying. The kind of crying you only do when you think no one's watching. Silent and broken.
My feet locked to the ground.
My fingers went numb. Not from cold. From the way all my blood seemed to rush straight to my heart, like something had reached in and squeezed.
I crossed the remaining distance and turned the doorknob. She'd forgotten to lock it.
The sound made her jerk her head up. Her eyes were red, face wet with tears.
She looked at me like she couldn't believe I was real.
"Why did you come back?" she whispered.
I stepped inside. Set the bag down on the table. Locked the door behind me with a quiet click.
Then I walked to the windows and started pulling the curtains closed. One by one. Methodical. Giving myself something to do with my hands.
When I finished, I turned back to face her.
We just stared at each other. The air felt thick. Charged.
"I'm not leaving," I said.