Page 45 of Broken Destiny

“This is Geeta,” I said from behind him. “The children’s nanny. Geeta, this is...” I paused, my voice faltering, because I did not know how to introduce the man who had once meant everything to me and now stood in my kitchen like a stranger.

“Caleb,” he said, finishing my sentence before the silence could stretch any further. “This is my friend Greg.” He looked between the two of us. “We know Ny… Jiya from Vancouver.”

Geeta’s shoulders relaxed, and the faint frown on her face disappeared. She placed her hands together in a Namaste pose and smiled, nodding her head with gentle respect. “Nice to meet you,” she said. “I’ll make more pancakes and bacon. Coffee?”

“Yes, please,” Caleb replied, offering a polite smile before glancing around the room, his hands resting in his pockets, his gaze moving slowly as he studied every corner of the house, absorbing details.

Something caught his attention, and I followed his line of sight as he walked out of the kitchen toward the living room and stopped in front of the fireplace.

His back was toward me, and I couldn’t see his reaction or his expressions, but I knew it was not happiness or joy, because the rigid set of his shoulders and the stillness in his posture spoke louder than any words he could have said.

“Will your husband be joining us for breakfast?” he asked, turning around and walking back toward me before stopping a few steps in front of me, his eyes searching my face for answers.

“He can’t.”

“Guess you don’t want him to meet anyone from your past, I’m assuming,” he said, leaning closer and whispering directly into my ear, his breath brushing against my skin and sending a shiver down my spine. “After all, you’ve moved out here where no one could find you.”

Then he looked at me, his eyes fixed on mine.

“No, that’s not it,” I replied, looking at him, forcing myself to remain steady even as my heart throbbed against my ribs. “He would have loved to meet you both, but?—”

“Let me guess,” he scoffed. “He’s busy.”

“No,” I said after a brief pause, gathering the courage to speak the words that still carried pain every time they crossed my lips. “He passed away a year ago due to liver cancer.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat as Caleb’s eyes bulged, and his mouth fell open, the accusation in his expression faltering for the first time since he had walked into my home.

“So, how is it going here?”Greg asked finally, breaking the tension that had been suffocating the room.

Geeta took Emma to the backyard with the dogs after breakfast.

With the three of us now sitting at the dining table, quietly munching on pancakes and bacon, a heavy silence hung over us.

“It’s been good,” I replied. “I have a restaurant and two cafés that I own. And I also work alongside my brother-in-law in the city.”

“That’s great, isn’t it?” Greg said, nudging Caleb.

Caleb nodded silently and continued eating.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed him glancing toward the backyard.

My shoulders stiffened, and my pulse began to climb.

Was he watching Emma? Was he wondering about her? Did he suspect anything? Why wasn’t he asking questions? Why wasn’t he saying anything?

The fact that he asked no questions about Emma unsettled me more than if he had demanded answers.

I wished time would speed up and carry this moment away from me.

Had I made a mistake keeping our daughter away from him? Would she grow up never knowing her father, even though he was sitting only a few steps away from her right now?

His serious expression and the way his eyes narrowed toward the backyard stole what little appetite I had left.

“So, bachelor party, huh?” I asked, trying to sound nonchalant. “How is that going? Congratulations, by the way.”

My stomach hardened, and I wasn’t sure why the word felt so heavy on my tongue. Maybe it was my nerves. Maybe it was the complicated situation we were trapped in. I shouldn’t care about him or his future anymore. I didn’t have that right. Yet somewhere inside me, a small, stubborn piece still reacted to the idea of him building a new life with someone else. He was moving toward happiness and closure. And I was moving forward alone and widowed.

“Thanks,” he replied without looking at me.