Page 47 of Broken Destiny

After finishing their breakfast, they got up to leave, pushing their chairs back from the table.

Thanking me for the meal, Greg stepped forward and wrapped me in a friendly hug before saying, “It was lovely seeing you again. Take care and stay well.”

Caleb walked past me toward the door, stopped and turned around. He looked at me for a brief moment, muttered his thanks under his breath, and then walked out the door without another word.

14

CALEB

“What’s gotten into you?” Greg asked in a raised voice as we sat inside the car. His lips were pressed together, and his eyes squinted at me. “You said you’d be civil.”

“I was civil, considering the circumstances,” I replied, folding my arms across my chest.

I couldn’t help myself. I knew I had been rude. I knew I had been harsh, even cruel, yet the restraint I had promised Greg slipped through my fingers the moment I saw Nyah… Jiya… again.Damn it!

I had told him I would remain calm and reasonable, that I would behave like a man in control of his emotions, but everything inside me had rebelled the second I stepped into her home.

Her face, her smile, and those eyes of hers—every detail ignited something volatile inside me. My blood surged through my veins, consuming every ounce of patience I had tried to hold on to.

Memories came crashing back without mercy.

There was no doubt in my mind that I was going to make her pay. Yet, even as that resolve hardened, confusion tangled around it.

She was now a mother to two children. She owned businesses. She appeared innocent, as if nothing had ever happened. As if shehad never broken me. I had watched her closely, searching for cracks in the façade, but I could not read her.Not like I could read her before.

Greg shook his head slowly. “I thought you were going to talk to her and straighten things out. Now we’re staying for a couple more days to do what—spy on her?”

“I can’t just barge into her house and demand answers,” I said, rolling up the sleeves of my shirt.

I was furious with myself for losing control, and furious with her for still having the power to make me lose it.

Without thinking, I slammed my palms against the steering wheel.

What had gotten into me?

All I wanted were answers—simple, honest answers to questions that had haunted me for years. I wanted to expose her lies, to tear down the carefully built image she had created for herself in front of her new family. I wanted them to see what I had seen, to understand the deception that had nearly destroyed me.

Was it really about money? Had I been nothing but a planned scheme? Had she used me the same way she might have used others, collecting opportunities and walking away once she had what she wanted?

And what about the surgery?

The thought struck me like lightning splitting open a dark sky.

I had been there through all of it. I had sat in the waiting room, spoken to her doctors, and watched her recover afterward.

It had been real.

Hadn't it?

I rubbed a hand across my face.

For years I had convinced myself that everything between us had been a lie, but some memories refused to fit that narrative.

I turned my head toward the window and looked back at her house. It stood there quietly, framed by trees and morning light, giving no hint of the turmoil it had stirred inside me.

Jiya had named her daughter Emma—the same name I had oncesuggested for our own child, back when we used to sit together and dream about a future that had felt certain and within reach.

I closed my eyes, and her house flashed behind my eyelids—the familiar colours, the comfort of the kitchen, the smell of cinnamon pancakes drifting through the air and wrapping around the room.