Chapter 69
Caleb's words sliced through the noise of the gala, low and deliberate. "I said, what's going on here, Samantha?"
I clutched my champagne flute, my grip tightening as if the fragile glass could somehow anchor me.
My gaze flicked toward the crowd, but no one seemed to notice the tension brewing at the edge of the room.
"I don't understand," I said, forcing an air of confusion into my tone. My voice came out steadier than I expected, but my chest was tight.
Caleb tilted his head, his eyes narrowing. "You don't understand?" He took a small step closer, the intensity in his gaze searing. "Don't play games with me. What is this? Wife? Tyler Wills' wife? How, Samantha?"
I took a breath, feeling my pulse thrum wildly against my temples. The lie formed before I could stop it, the words spilling out as if rehearsed.
"It's not a game," I said, each syllable careful and deliberate. "I am Tyler's wife. We've been married for years."
His brow furrowed, disbelief flashing in his eyes. "Married? Since when? You never told me this in London."
My throat tightened, but I forced a small, brittle smile. "We were having... difficulties," I said, my voice soft but steady. "That's why I went to London. To clear my head and focus on my work."
He shook his head, his expression a mixture of hurt and anger. "You're lying. I don't believe you."
"It's the truth," I said, willing my voice not to break. "Tyler and I have been working through our issues, and... I love him. I've always loved him." The words tasted bitter, but I pressed on, hoping to end this. "Whatever happened between us in London, Caleb, was a mistake. An illusion."
Caleb's face hardened, the warmth I had grown so used to vanishing in an instant. His jaw clenched, his lips parting slightly as if to say something, but he closed them again.
He looked like he'd been punched in the gut, his composure slipping for just a moment before his mask of control slid back into place.
"You don't mean that," he said quietly, his voice tight with restraint. "Samantha, I know you. This isn't you talking."
I swallowed hard, fighting the sudden urge to tell him the truth. The real truth. That I was caught in something far more complicated than he could imagine, and that I didn't want to hurt him.. didn't want to hurt myself, either. But I couldn't. Not here. Not now.
"I mean every word," I said instead, the lie feeling like a blade I'd turned on myself. "It's time to move on, Caleb. For both of us."
He stared at me, his blue eyes searching mine for something I couldn't give him. For a second, I thought he might reach out, might grab my arm and demand an explanation. But he didn't.
"Did I do something wrong?" he asked finally, his voice cracking just slightly. "Is that what this is about? Did I hurt you somehow?"
"No," I whispered, my heart breaking at the vulnerability in his tone. "You didn't do anything wrong. This is just... how it has to be."
He stepped back slightly, his gaze flicking downward as if trying to compose himself. When he looked back up, his expression was unreadable, but I could see the storm brewing beneath the surface.
"You're lying," he said again, but there was no heat in his words. Just sadness. "I don't know why, but you are."
Before I could respond, a voice cut through the tension like a knife.
"What's going on here?"
Tyler.
I turned to see him approaching, his expression neutral but his eyes sharp. He looked from me to Caleb, and I could feel the weight of his assessment.
"Caleb, right?" Tyler extended a hand, his tone polite, almost friendly. "Good to see you again. I hope you're enjoying the evening."
Caleb's eyes flicked from Tyler's outstretched hand to me, and I could see the calculation behind his gaze.
Was he considering causing a scene, trying to force my hand? But after a moment, he seemed to think better of it, reaching out to shake Tyler's hand.
"It's good to see you too, Mr. Wills," Caleb said, his voice cold but steady. "And yes, it's a wonderful event. Quite a turn-out."
Tyler nodded, his grip on Caleb's hand firm. "Indeed. I'm glad you're enjoying it."
The tension between them was obvious, the air charged with a dangerous energy that made my skin prickle.
Tyler's gaze never left Caleb's face, his expression neutral but his eyes glinting with something I couldn't place.
"If you'll excuse us, though," Tyler continued, dropping Caleb's hand. "I believe my wife and I have some catching up to do."
Caleb nodded, his smile polite but tight. "Of course. It was a pleasure seeing you both."
He turned to me, his hand resting lightly on the small of my back. "Sam, shall we leave now?
think Grandfather has everything under control, and it's getting late."
"Of course," I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
I dared a glance at Caleb as we walked away.
His expression was impossible to read, but the pain in his eyes was unmistakable. My chest tightened, guilt and something far more complicated swirling inside me.
Tyler led me through the crowd with ease, his hand firm but not intrusive. As we reached the exit, I glanced back one last time. Caleb was still standing there, watching us.
And for the briefest moment, I wanted to turn back. To tell him everything. But I didn't.
Instead, I walked away, my hand in Tyler's, my heart in pieces.