Chapter 7: The Secret Hurt

That was in the sixth month of our marriage. Caleb was already working for the mayor, cautious and careful. But one day, he came back reeking of alcohol, completely drunk.

He staggered in just past midnight, tie askew, eyes red and glassy. I’d never seen him so undone. The house was dark except for the kitchen light, and I watched him sink onto the sofa like the weight of the world had finally pinned him down.

I brought him coffee to sober up, and unexpectedly saw his eyes red. Leaning in, I heard him muttering, and realized he was calling a girl’s name.

“Gracie, Gracie.”

That was the first time I heard this name from Caleb. Just as I was about to leave, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me into his arms, holding me tightly. Very tightly.

Tears soaked my collar and clothes. A long time later, I heard him say very softly:

“I’m sorry.”

It was a hug that didn’t belong to me, and an apology that wasn’t mine either, but I ended up receiving them by accident. I held him anyway, letting his grief soak through my shirt, knowing it wasn’t me he needed.

So I looked into Grace.

It turned out, they were childhood sweethearts, engaged early on. Caleb, weighing the pros and cons, was afraid his family’s troubles would drag her down, so he gave her up and chose me.

And the reason he got drunk—

Was because Grace went on a hunger strike to show she wouldn’t marry anyone else.

You couldn’t buy milk at the corner store without someone weighing in. I heard snippets in the grocery store, saw the pity in the cashier’s eyes. It was impossible to ignore, even if I wanted to.

Now, even I have to admit they are a perfect match, so I nodded and took the umbrella.

“All right.”

Caleb really doesn’t keep his word. He said he’d be home late, but came back just as night was falling, before I’d even finished packing my jewelry.

He saw the room full of jewelry and deeds, but didn’t look closely. “Why are all these things out?”

“Just dusting them off.” I closed the lid, lying without thinking.

Caleb frowned but didn’t press. He just put a cold silver bracelet on my wrist. He was here to make amends.

“Natalie, don’t mind what happened today. We grew up together, so the jokes went too far. I’ll make sure they don’t bring it up again.”

Is that really so?

If he truly cared for me, why didn’t he clarify or say anything in front of all those people? He just couldn’t bear to embarrass Grace, always defending her, making sure everyone knew it was Caleb who wasn’t good enough for Grace, not—

That Caleb didn’t like Grace.

I looked calmly at Caleb. “No need to trouble yourself. You’re so clever, you must know that if you marry Grace, no one will ever say she’s an old maid who can’t get married, nor will anyone joke without boundaries.”

Caleb is extremely smart; he knew what I meant. He didn’t interrupt me, because this is what he wanted to hear. He was waiting for me to say it, looking at me gently, holding my hands.

“Natalie, you want me to marry Grace? You don’t mind?”

His voice was careful, almost hopeful. For the first time, I wondered if he was asking for permission—or for forgiveness.