“Valencia… what happened?” Caleb’s voice shifted, panic replacing his usual confident lilt. He rolled up my sleeve, exposing the angry red marks on my skin.
Alarm flickered across his face. “When did this happen? How? Why didn’t you tell me?”
His concern seemed genuine, yet it only deepened the ache inside me. Had he truly forgotten the events at the banquet so easily?
I stayed silent, torn between shattering the mask of his affection with the truth or letting him continue pretending it was all normal.
“Alright, enough tears. I’ll handle this for you.”
He brushed a stray strand of hair from my face, dabbed at the tears trailing down my cheeks, and pressed a soft kiss to my temple before standing to fetch a cooling compress, muttering to himself as he went.
“Look at you—so independent, yet still flinching at every little pain. Always crying. What would you do if I weren’t here?”
I stared blankly at the angry red mark on my wrist. Seven years of being coddled, of him wrapping me in care and attention. What would I have done without Caleb? And yet… I didn’t want him anymore. I didn’t want this pretend connection. Not anymore.