Page 73 of Broken Destiny

“Geeta, I’ll finish up,” I said, placing Emma gently on the floor. “Why don’t you finish your work and leave Emma with Lucas? I’ll bring the children in later and bathe them.”

“Okay,Didi,” she replied with a nod.

I put on some music,relieved that I had the kitchen to myself while cooking.

The familiar rhythm filled the space, and before I realized it, my hips began to sway gently to the beat. I sang along softly to the words ofShakira, letting the music carry me, allowing myself a rare pocket of lightness in the middle of a complicated evening. For those few minutes, it felt like I could breathe again.

Thirty minutes later, I heard the door open and close.

Assuming it was Geeta coming up from the basement, I called out without turning around. “You still have time, Geeta. I’m almost done with dinner.”

“Ahem!”

The sound froze me mid-motion.

I stopped stirring the pot and slowly turned my head over my shoulder.

Caleb stood behind me across the kitchen island.

“I was a bit thirsty,” he said quietly. “But I’ll come back if you want me to.”

“It’s fine,” I replied, keeping my tone even.

I covered the pot with the lid, the soft clatter of metal against metal. I filled a glass with water and handed it to him without meeting his eyes. The moment my fingers brushed against his, a jolt of unwanted awareness shot through me, and I quickly pulled my hand back.

His apology had been interrupted earlier, but the rage inside me hadn’t disappeared. It sat there, stubborn and burning, fed by the memory of the accusations he had thrown at me.

“They’re amazing kids,” he said after a moment.

“Hmm,” I answered.

“I can’t believe how much Lucas has grown. He’s going to be eleven this year, right?”

I nodded, crossing my arms tightly across my chest. My breathing sounded far too loud in the silence between us as my entire body felt rigid with him standing there in my kitchen, trying to make small talk.

He took a couple of slow sips of water.

“I didn’t get to finish my apology before,” he said, lowering his gaze briefly before lifting it back to meet mine.

“No, you didn’t,” I replied, grinding my teeth together.

“I’m sorry about what I said and what I assumed.”

“Are you really?” I asked, slamming the cupboard door on the island after pulling out a serving dish. “Your accusation was wrong and hurtful. I can’t believe you would think that I would do something like that.”

How could he have thought something so awful about me, much less accuse me of it? Yes, we had been apart for years. Yes, time had changed many things in our lives. But my values had never changed. My principles had never wavered. I would never stoop so low as to steal another woman’s husband or build my happiness on someone else’s pain. The fact that he could believe that about me made it painfully clear that he didn’t truly know me at all, even after everything we had shared… after all the love, the trust, and the dreams we had once built together.

“I know… I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I’ve hurt you, and I know I can’t take the words back, but I just wanted to let you know that I wish I had never said it.”

He lifted his eyes and looked directly into mine.

“I hope you can forgive me.”

His apology landed straight in the center of my chest.

For the first time since re-entering my life, he looked stripped of all his arrogance. His arms hung loosely at his sides, and his eyebrows dipped downward the way they always did when he knew he had made a mistake.

And he knew it.