CHAPTER 3

"Nice to meet you." I nodded to him, smiling, even though what I really wanted was to shout and demand what the hell he was doing here. But the bigger question was why Mr. Zelinsky had just called him his son.

"We actually know each other, Sir." My voice came out sharper than I intended, with an edge that made Caleb’s face change instantly.

"You do? From where?" Mr. Zelinsky asked, surprised.

"We went to the same high school," I said, keeping a smug smile on my lips. Caleb’s jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing at me. I smirked, feeling good that even if it's for a second, I can make him uncomfortable.

"That’s great that you know each other," Mr. Zelinsky said warmly, looking between us. "It makes things easier when you’re not strangers." I forced a polite smile, but my stomach was knotted. 

Before I could say anything more, Mr. Zelinsky’s phone rang. He excused himself with a quick smile and stepped out to take the call, leaving the two of us in a heavy silence.

As soon as the door closed, I turned to Caleb. "What are you doing here?" I whispered fiercely, my eyes narrowing. He leaned closer, his voice low and calm. "I should be asking you the same thing. But listen, you can’t tell anyone about last night."

I raised a brow. "Which part?"

"All of it." His answer was quick, his eyes locked on mine as if daring me to push further.

My chest tightened at the memory of his mouth on mine, the heat, the way I hadn’t wanted him to stop. I swallowed hard, shaking the thought away. He played me; I should've seen this coming a mile away. "Why shouldn’t I?" I whispered, pressing.

His jaw flexed. "Because it complicates things. For both of us. Do you understand?" I glared at him, but my heart was racing from what he just said. Before I could argue, the door opened again.

Mr. Zelinsky walked back in, tucking his phone into his jacket. His eyes flicked between us, sensing the tension. "Everything alright in here?"

"Of course," Caleb said smoothly, leaning back in his chair as if we hadn’t been whispering seconds ago. I forced myself to smile, nodding quickly. "Yes, all good."

Mr. Zelinsky’s gaze lingered for a moment longer before he nodded. "Good. I was saying, it’s wonderful that you two already know each other. It makes this whole arrangement a lot smoother." My stomach twisted as I processed his words. "What arrangement, Sir?" 

"Emily, I'm sick. I need to speak with both of you about the company." I was still confused about what Mr Zelinsky was talking about when he started coughing. At first, I thought he was clearing his throat, but then the sound deepened. He pressed a hand to his chest, his face tightening in pain.

“Sir?” I stood quickly, my chair scraping against the floor.

Caleb was already moving toward him. “Dad?” His voice broke, the usual smug, taunting facade gone. 

Mr. Zelinsky coughed harder, clutching at his chest with both hands now. His breaths came in short, jagged gasps. The color drained from his face.

“Call an ambulance,” Caleb barked at me, but he was already pulling his father up, supporting his weight.

I fumbled for my phone, hands shaking, but he shook his head. “No time. We’ll drive.” The next moments blurred. Caleb half-carried, half-dragged his father out the door, and I ran beside them, opening the car as he eased Mr. Zelinsky into the back seat. His father groaned, his lips turning pale.

“Stay with me,” Caleb urged, climbing in beside him. “You hear me? Stay with me, Dad.” I drove as fast as I dared, my eyes darting from the road to the rearview mirror. Mr. Zelinsky’s breathing grew shallow, his head leaning against Caleb’s chest. Caleb held him tightly, whispering things I couldn’t hear, his face twisted with fear.

The hospital lights came into view, and I smiled in relief as I tore out of the car and parked in front of the emergency door. "We need help." Nurses ran towards me as I opened the door to the back seat, the horror of what was happening hitting me like a brick.

“No. No, no, no,” Caleb’s voice broke, his hand gripping his father’s shirt. “Fuck, Dad, why would you do this to me?” I felt the painful lump in my throat tighten and my chest tighten with shock, hot tears made their way down my face as I watched my mentor's body lying there emotionless. 

This man had been the closest thing I had to a father; the pain that Caleb is feeling must be worse. I kneeled and took his hand in mine, unable to hold back. "I'm so sorry." The words came out broken and unsteady. I didn't even know what to say except that I'm sorry that God took his father. 

 Caleb wasn’t moving. He sat there with his father in his arms, his head bent low, as if the world had ended right there in the back seat. His body shook vigorously with unshed tears. I couldn't help but bawl at how bad it hurt. The nurses were standing at a distance, watching us with sad faces.

I felt my knees give out. I made my way to the front seat to sit down and process all of this. I sat stiff in the front seat, my knuckles white around the edge of the door as I kept glancing back at him. Mr. Zelinsky’s head rested against Caleb’s shoulder, his face too still, too pale. It didn’t feel real. 

Any second now, I expected him to open his eyes, grin, and say it was all some ridiculous joke. He had always been that way, full of humor even when life was heavy. But he still didn’t move.

My chest ached so badly I thought I might break apart. Why did God have to take him? Why like this, in the back of a car, in his own son’s arms? He didn’t deserve to leave this way. The pain clawed at me; I couldn't bear such agonizing pain. Tears blurred everything, and I kept whispering to myself that he was going to wake up, that this couldn’t be the end.