143JOANA'S POVWhen he finally turned and looked back at me, there was something I did not expect to see on his face â not anger, not bitterness. Sadness, yes. But beneath it, acceptance. And something even stranger.A smile.If that is the best thing for you, Jo, he said in a hoarse voice, âyou should then go for itâ.My heart twisted. âClintonâŠââIâm not kidding,â he said and stretched back. âYouâve always deserved to choose. Not out of guilt. Not out of obligation. But out of your own heart.His words floated like a lullaby that I never knew I needed.âYouâre not mad?â I asked quietly.He laughed softly. âOf course Iâm mad. Iâm fumingâŠbut not at you. Iâm mad at times. Under circumstances. In the thousand things that went wrong before we ever had a chance to make it rightâ.His voice got somewhat choked at the end, and he cleared his throat and stood up straight.âI had my shot, Joana. And I blew it. I left you with the burden. I dissolved when I should have remained. I let my fami
142 JOANA'S POV Minutes later, we all watched the screen in silence. In the footage, Daniel cornered Jake near the lockers. The words werenât clear, but the aggression was. Shoving, mocking, laughing. Calling over his friends. It played like a loop. Day after day. Then, finally! âWe saw Japheth arrive, and he came out in front of Jake, fists clenched. He told the boy off, and when Daniel pushed Jake again⊠Japheth lost it. The mouth of Mrs. Holden opened, and then it was closed. She didnât speak. The principal paused the video. âIn doing so, I feel that this was a reaction to bullying that was being experiencedâ. âI⊠I didnât know,â Mrs. Holden murmured. âNo, you didnât,â I told coldly as I got up. And although I do not approve of Japhethâs response, I can see why he did it. My boys take care of each other. She turned to look at me, actually looked at me, and I saw her face colour red, not from anger this time, but shame! âIâll have a word with Danielâ, she mumbled a
141JOANA'S POVMy heart skipped, then stuttered.It was not a question of having the wrong choice in Clinton. It was about Caleb presenting me with what it feels like to be loved without the burden of the past.I looked up into his eyes, and in them, I saw something that terrified me because it felt real.Felt like home.He got up, walked around the table, and leaned next to me. Gently, carefully, he leaned down.My breath was caught in my throat as his face approached me.I could stop this.I could retreat, turn my back, and be within the comfort of the undetermined.But I didnât.Not this time.As his lips came close to mine, a thought rolled at the back of my mind like a distant thunder;Iâve made my choice.I withdrew myself from the kiss, and my cheeks were burning with a heat that I hadnât felt in years. Not like this. Not this kind of warmth.It wasnât the type of flushed warmth I was used to from being caught doing something I wasnât supposed to be in the act of doingâ it was
140 JOANA'S POV As soon as Ciara was gone, the room filled with an unsettling quiet I couldnât seem to get rid of. Sitting still on the edge of my bed, my legs crossed under me, I watched the glass of wine getting closer to being drained on my nightstand. Her words kept coming back to me, over and over again. Youâre going to have to pick soon, Joana. In the end, one of them won't be able to stay. I wish she weren't so right about it. Caleb and Clinton. Two names. Two men. There was a constant fight in my heart between them. One brought me peace. He brought up all the pain I thought Iâd healed over. Still, he was always the one who rushed to me when I was at my lowest. A chime broke the silence. My phone screen lit up. âAre you free tomorrow? Thereâs a project thing I need your help with. I looked down at the screen and tried to keep from smiling. Being plain and trying to bring work and relationships closer together is so much like him. I gave a small laugh and
139 JOANA'S POV I took a few steps back from them. âIâll call a cab.â Clintonâs brows furrowed immediately. âNo. Iâll take you home.â Caleb said, âYou donât have to walk out like this.â But I shook my head. âI do. If I stay with either of you, things will get even more complicated. Iâd just like to figure this out by myself for now.â Although they werenât happy with it, they eventually nodded after a long and tense silence. While dialling for a cab, I realised they were still watching me. Their silent hopes. Their unspoken fears. I didnât look back. --- On the way home, there wasnât much conversation, and the driver said a few things I didnât even really notice. I watched the streets go by outside the window, as though I were only just halfway out of a dream. All my emotions were mixed together with every memory and moment I had spent with both brothers. I had loved Clinton with a passion that hurt. The father of my children. He always jumped in to help me when
138 JOANA'S POV Mr Gates looked at me briefly, âI convinced myself I was supporting the family. I considered you a danger to what I wanted to uphold. All I accomplished was to undermine what I said I wanted to defend.â A bitter chuckle escaped me. âYou almost succeeded in separating me from my children.â His eyes welled up. âI know, and there is no way for me to take that back. But I want you to realise that I finally see it now. The pain I caused. Not just towards you, but toward Clinton.â With a hard swallow, he repeated, âI was wrong. My feelings about Clinton influenced the way I interacted with you. I didnât like that you didnât give in. Because you wouldn't yield like the rest of them did.â âFor that reason, I wonât do what others want me to,â I said calmly. He nodded. âThat is the reason I now have the greatest respect for you. Almost dying made me realise itâbut I finally see you clearly, Joana. You are not the person I accused you of being. Youâre strong. Brav
137 JOANA'S POV We settled into a calm and secluded place in a restaurant only a short distance from the office. I asked for an omelette along with black coffee. His meal included pancakes, together with two additional sides, topped off with orange juice. âI hadnât realised you eat this much,â I said quietly when the plates came. He replied, nudging the salt towards me, "And I forgot how little you seem to do. Instead of truly living, you simply get by.â I kept my eyes on my food and didnât glance in his direction. He suddenly looked at me and asked, âDonât you remember that breakfast spot in Barcelona?â I looked up, startled. âWhat?â âThere was a small cafĂ© just outside the Gothic Quarter. You made us walk over half a mile to have churros.â âI was carrying a child,â it slipped out of my mouth before I realised what Iâd said. âAnd hormonal.â He froze. In that second, the room seemed to narrow around us. I regretted the words instantly. He lowered his eyes to hi
136 JOANA'S POV Her voice echoed in my head â her innocent mask, desperate face, and warning laced with venom. I grinned back, looking collected while burning inside. At last, I saw her for who she really was. It was no longer a choice for her to front gentleness or indifference. Still, I couldnât stop thinking, just a bit... awkward. Such intervals leave you feeling empty. The kind of depletion, nothing, not even coffee, can really calm. The kind that bleeds itself into your very existence, wanting nothing but a peaceful glimpse into the ocean and an escape to sleep for a week. But that wasnât the option for me. Certainly not, when a jewel bidding contract was ready to run, sitting on my desk and bearing the weight of the entire international expansion of my company. I entered the lobby, propagating my heels across the lustrous stone floor ever so softly. Her warm smile blinked and then quickly went back to her keyboard when she greeted me. But then I saw him. Cli
135 JOANA'S POV A part of me felt that I would refuse the ride altogether as we drove towards the prison. But I was done running. Done bottling things up. The opportunity had presented itself for me to face the monster in my life â this hurdle force hell-bent on breaking what meant the most to me. Anita. The one who stared into my eyes and did her best to kidnap my daughter. Then, later, pretend nothing had happened. The lady who almost stole everything from me. And for what? Solely because of love Thatâs what I needed to find out. â As I entered this small visitation room, I saw her already seated, now strapped to the table, but with blunt irony in her position. Her once immaculate hair, now dull and just tied up at the back with a loose band. Her bearing had not changed: she carried herself straight and proud, her chin held high, and her lips had that tincture that comes from knowing you cannot be trusted. I didnât sit immediately. I stood at the doorway and star