Confused and hesitant, I obeyed. The dimly lit hallway felt colder, tighter, and before I could even process what was happening, a sharp sting landed across my cheek.
It was the first time he had ever hit me.
Disbelief and hurt coursed through me as I stared at him, searching for a flicker of regret. There was none. Only raw, unfiltered anger.
“Why did you confront Marina?” he growled, his voice low but tense. “You knew she had hurt her ankle! I told you I’d explain everything when we got back, but you couldn’t wait, could you?”
His words cut nearly as deeply as the slap itself.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Marina limping toward us, deliberately slow, her blouse rumpled and stained as if to heighten her own drama. My mouth opened to defend myself, but before I could speak, she suddenly stumbled, letting out a gasp that sounded far too practiced.
Caleb didn’t hesitate. He surged past me, lifting her into his arms with practiced care. His touch, so tender when directed at her, made my chest ache. His voice softened as he addressed her.
“I told you I’d bring you over to apologize. Why did you leave the room?”