Chapter 7

I followed her gaze.

The moment I looked down at the knitted beanie in my hands, my fingers clenched around it.

It felt like I'd been struck by lightning.

Caleb had given me the hat on Christmas Day the year before. He'd said Yara had helped him pick it out and told me not to give her a hard time over it.

Because of my red-green color blindness, I'd always thought it was Christmas red. Festive. Perfect for the holidays.

It was the first gift Caleb had ever given me, and I'd been so happy that I'd worn it all winter.

A few coworkers had tactfully told me the color was "a little unusual," but I'd never thought much of it.

Now I understood.

It was an ugly, glaring green.

And Yara had known exactly what she was doing.

Heat rushed to my head.

I gripped the beanie in my fist and stormed back out to confront Caleb, who was putting away the first-aid kit.

He'd still been wearing a cold expression, but the second he saw what I was holding, a flicker of unease crossed his face.

My voice came out hoarse.

"Caleb. What color is this?"

His lips pressed together.

I knew that habit.

It was what he did when he felt guilty.

Then he answered as though I were the unreasonable one.

"Yvette, don't start digging up old grievances. It's spring green. Green symbolizes new beginnings. That's all it means. It's just a color. It's fashion."

I suddenly laughed.

And then, without warning, tears slipped from the corners of my eyes.

God, I'd been stupid.

So unbelievably stupid.

"Caleb, if the hat has such a beautiful meaning, why didn't you buy one for Yara too?"

Yara covered her mouth in exaggerated surprise.

"Oh, Caleb, I'm sorry. I had no idea Yvette didn't even know what color it was. If it's that big a deal, I can wear it instead. I don't care if people laugh at me..."

Caleb's face darkened.

He snatched the beanie out of my hand and threw it straight into the trash.

"Enough. It's a hat. Why are we fighting over a damn hat? If you don't like it, throw it away and buy another one. It's not like we can't afford one!"

He wanted to brush the whole thing aside and move on.

But all the strength had drained out of me.

I grabbed the suitcase I'd just packed and headed for the door.

Caleb stared at me, stunned, then furious.

"So that's what you were doing in the bedroom? Packing your bags so you could storm out?"

He grabbed the suitcase handle and refused to let go.

"You can't even read traffic lights properly. Aren't you afraid you'll get hit by a car out there? You don't have a driver's license, and it's the middle of the night. You won't even be able to get a cab. Where exactly do you think you're going?

"And don't forget last month. You couldn't get a ride in that storm, and I was the one who drove you to meet your client."

His grip tightened.

"You're the one who's always depended on me. I don't need you. If you think you can make it on your own, then go. Let's see who gives a damn if you end up dead somewhere."

I looked at the contempt and arrogance written all over his face, and pain twisted through my chest.

Not because of him.

Because of how little I'd valued myself.

There had been a time when Caleb promised to be my eyes. He'd hold my hand when we crossed the street and drive me to and from work, insisting he was happy to do it.

When had that man disappeared?

Somewhere along the way, whenever I asked him whether fruit was ripe or spoiled because I couldn't tell by the color, he stopped helping. He'd just sneer that if I couldn't tell, I shouldn't buy it.

When we crossed the street, he'd get annoyed at me for checking both directions too many times. Once, he even shoved me forward and nearly sent me straight into traffic.

Then there was last month's storm.

I'd gone home to pick up a flash drive for him and couldn't get a cab back to the office. When I called and asked him to come get me, he accused me of always creating problems and told me to walk.

By the time I made it back, the wind had turned my umbrella inside out, and I was soaked from head to toe.

Caleb hadn't shown an ounce of concern.

Instead, he'd exploded at me.

"Yvette, I told you to get the flash drive, not go home and wash your hair! At this rate, I might as well let Yara handle the client meeting."

One of my coworkers had finally taken pity on me.

"Mr. Foster... Yvette walked here in the rain."

Only then had he tossed me a dry towel.

I'd been halfway through wiping my face when Yara casually mentioned that it was the rag she used to clean her shoes.

For a moment, I hadn't known whether to drop it or keep holding it.

My whole body had trembled.

I still didn't know whether it had been from the cold or from what he'd done to me.

That was the thing about someone who no longer cared about you.

You could be hanging by your neck, and they'd think you were playing on a swing. You could come in drenched from a storm, and they'd assume you'd just washed your hair.

If my mother hadn't become seriously ill afterward and begged to see me married, I might have ended things then.

And now Caleb was actually using that night as proof of everything he'd supposedly done for me.

He swallowed.

"Why are you staring at me like that?"

I smiled faintly.

"Thank you for finally telling me the truth, Caleb. All this time, you've seen me as a useless freeloader who can't survive without you."

I met his eyes.

"Don't worry. I won't humiliate myself by depending on you ever again."

Whatever love I'd had left for him was gone.

Completely.

I pried his fingers off the suitcase handle one by one, picked up my luggage, and walked out.