Chapter 2 The Thing I Never Said

I stood at the door, staring at Adrian. “I think you should leave.”

He didn't move. “Your mother asked me to make sure you got home safely.”

“I don't need you to make sure I'm safe.”

His expression remained calm. “Caleste.”

“I'm serious.”

He studied me for a moment.

Then he nodded. “All right.”

He turned toward the hallway. I thought that was the end of it. Then he stopped. “Dinner tomorrow?”

I stared at him. “There’s not going to be a dinner tomorrow.”

“We'll see.”

My jaw tightened. “There’s nothing to see.”

He looked at me for another second before finally walking away. I didn't wait until he reached the elevator. I slammed the door shut. The sound echoed through my apartment.

I leaned against it and closed my eyes. For a few seconds, I simply stood there. My grandfather was dead. My mother had decided who I was going to marry. And the man I'd secretly loved for five years had just congratulated me on it.

My phone rang. I looked at the screen. Mother.

I didn't answer. The call ended. A message appeared almost immediately.

Mother: Call me.

Mother: Why did you send Adrian away like that?

I stared at the screen. Another message arrived.

Mother: Don't make this difficult, Caleste. You and Adrian need to marry soon.

I laughed bitterly. Even now, she was more concerned about the engagement than the fact that I had just buried my grandfather. I called her anyway. She answered on the first ring.

“Finally.”

“Grandfather has been dead for less than a day.”

“I know.”

“Then why are you already planning my wedding?”

“Because your grandfather left the company to you.”

“He left me a company. Not a husband.”

“Without the Beaumont family, you may not be able to keep it.”

I closed my eyes. “Is that all you care about?”

“This isn't about feelings.”

“Of course it isn't.”

“Caleste—”

“I need time.”

“You don't have time.”

I opened my eyes. For a moment, neither of us spoke.

Then I said quietly, “Goodnight, Mother.”

“Caleste, wait—”

I ended the call. Then I turned off my phone. Silence finally returned to me. But instead of relief, all I could hear was Sam's voice. "Anyway, congratulations, Caleste."

And somehow, those two words hurt more than anything my mother had said.

I tried to sleep. I pulled the blanket over my head. Sam had never promised me anything. He had never told me he loved me. The problem wasn't Sam. The problem was me. I had spent five years building a love story inside my own head and somehow expected him to know the script.

By morning, my eyes were burning from exhaustion. I turned my phone back on. Thirty-seven messages. Most were from my mother. I deleted them without reading. Then I got dressed and went to work. Because apparently, inheriting a billion-dollar company didn't give me permission to fall apart.

Horizon Global was already busy when I arrived. People moved through the lobby with coffee cups and phones pressed against their ears. The screens displayed financial reports. Employees rushed toward elevators. Everything was normal.

I hated it. My grandfather had died yesterday. Yet the world kept moving. I walked toward the elevator. Then I stopped mid air. 

Sam was there. He was leaning against the reception desk, talking to one of the junior analysts. He spotted me halfway through the conversation.

His face immediately brightened. “Morning.”

I forced my feet to keep moving. “Morning.”

His eyes swept over my face. Then his smile faded. “You didn't sleep.”

I looked away. “Not much.”

He reached behind him and picked up a coffee. “Here.”

I stared at it. My usual.

“You got this for me?”

“You always get this when you have an early meeting.”

I took the cup. “Thanks.”

He studied me for another second.

“You should've stayed home.”

“I have work.”

“You also have a funeral hangover.”

I gave him a tired look. “That isn't a thing.”

“It is now.” A small smile tugged at his mouth.

I almost smiled back. Almost.

He picked up a folder from the desk. “Vance wants the Harrington figures checked before the afternoon meeting. I already went through the first draft. There's one number I'm not convinced about.”

He handed it to me.

I looked down at the folder. “You checked it?”

“Last night.”

“You went through it after driving for four hours?”

He shrugged. “You were supposed to review it with me yesterday.”

I looked at him. He remembered. Five years ago, Vance had assigned Sam to mentor me when my grandfather placed me at Horizon.

At first, I had hated having someone constantly looking over my shoulder. Sam had never treated me like an inexperienced heiress. He taught me. Argued with me. Corrected me when I was wrong. And, eventually, became the person I trusted most in the building.

Now he was standing in front of me with the same patient expression he'd had on my first day.

“There's also a meeting with Vance at eleven,” he continued. “I'll sit in with you.”

“I can handle it.”

“I know.” He smiled. “I'm sitting in anyway.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Still trying to mentor me?”

“Five years and you still need supervision.”

I almost laughed. “There it is.”

“What?”

“That annoying confidence.”

“You're welcome.”

He started walking toward the office. I followed him. Halfway there, he glanced back.

“And eat something.”

“I will.”

“So I've been told.” He smiled and disappeared into the office.

I stood outside for a moment. That was Sam. He didn't know he was breaking my heart. He was simply being Sam. And somehow, that made it worse.

---

By ten, I had already lost my patience.

Sam dropped a file on my desk. “Sign this.”

I looked up. “You're very demanding today.”

“You like me better when I'm demanding.”

“I don't.”

“You do.” He smiled.

I hated that smile. Not because there was anything wrong with it. Because it was the same smile he had given me yesterday. The same smile he gave everyone.

“Did you eat?” he asked.

“No.”

“I'm ordering lunch.”

“I don't want anything.”

“Too bad.”

He picked up his phone. “I'm getting you soup.”

“I said I don't want—”

“Soup.”He walked out.

I stared at the door. Then at the coffee beside my hand.

Five years. He knew exactly what I liked. And somehow, he had no idea what I wanted.

I pushed my chair back. I needed air.

---

The rooftop was empty. I walked straight to the railing and gripped it with both hands. The metal was cold against my palms.

I leaned forward and drew in a slow breath, letting the wind hit my face hard enough to make my eyes water. For a few seconds, I could pretend it wasn't because I was about to cry.

The rooftop door opened behind me. I closed my eyes. Of course, he came.

“Caleste.”

I didn't turn. “Go away.”

Footsteps crossed the concrete. “You disappeared.”

“I needed a break.”

“You could've told me.”

My fingers tightened around the railing. “I didn't know I needed permission.”

“I didn't say you needed permission.”

I finally turned. Sam stood a few feet away, one hand wrapped around a paper coffee cup. My coffee.

He lifted it slightly. “You left this downstairs.”

I stared at the cup. Of all the things he could have brought me.

“Thanks.” I reached for it. Our fingers brushed. I pulled mine back too quickly.

Sam noticed. His eyes dropped to my hand before returning to my face. He didn't say anything. He just stood there. That somehow made it worse.

“What?”

“You're upset.”

“I'm fine.”

His mouth tightened. “You're not.”

I looked away. The city blurred beneath the rooftop railing. “I’m getting married.”

Silence filled the air. I waited. One second, two, three. “I know.”

I turned back. “That’s it?”

His forehead creased. “What else am I supposed to say?”

I gave a short laugh. The sound came out sharper than I intended.

“I don't know.”

“Then tell me.” He took a step closer.

I stepped back.

His expression changed. Not anger. Concern. That familiar concern. The same concern he'd shown me for five years. The same concern that had never meant what I wanted it to mean.

“Doesn't it bother you?” I asked.

His brows drew together. “What?”

“That I'm marrying Adrian.”

“You don't want to marry him?”

“That isn't what I asked.”

He looked at me for a long moment. Then his shoulders lowered slightly. “Caleste, if you don't want to marry him, you don't have to.”

My fingers curled around the coffee cup. “I know.”

“Then what's the problem?”

I looked at him. He really didn't know. My throat tightened.

“Would you care if I did?”

His answer came immediately. “Of course.”

I almost smiled. Then came his next words. “Because you're my friend.”

The smile died before it reached my lips. I lowered my eyes. “Right.”

Sam stepped closer. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Caleste.”

“Stop.”

He stopped. “Stop what?”

I swallowed. “Being nice to me.”

His expression fell. “Why?”

“Because you're making this harder.”

“For you?”

I nodded.

He looked genuinely lost. “I'm trying to help.”

“I know.” My laugh was barely a sound. “That’s the problem.”

He stood there, watching me. I could see the question forming in his eyes. I could see the question forming in his eyes. My fingers curled tighter around the coffee cup.

“Then explain it to me.”

I looked down at the coffee in my hand. The lid trembled slightly. I set it on the railing before he could notice. “Do you remember the first time you came to my apartment?”

He frowned, thinking. “Yeah.”

“You cooked dinner.”

“You hadn't eaten.”

“You stayed until two in the morning.”

“You didn't want to be alone.”

I nodded. “Do you remember when you held me after my first fight with Grandfather?”

“Yes.”

“When you drove three hours because I called you crying?”

His answer came softer this time. “Yes.”

“When Momo got sick?”

“I remember.”

His eyes stayed on mine. “Caleste, where is this going?”

I looked away. My nails dug into my palm. “You remember everything.”

A small, uncertain smile touched his mouth. “Of course I do.”

I shook my head. “No.”

The smile disappeared.

“You remember everything because you're Sam.”

I looked at him again. “You show up. You help. You stay.”

His eyes didn't leave mine.

“You make people feel like they matter.”

He said nothing.

I swallowed. “And I thought…”

My voice caught. I looked down. For one humiliating second, I couldn't finish the sentence.

Sam took another step toward me. “Thought what?”

I shook my head. “Nothing.”

“Caleste.” He reached for my arm.

I flinched before his fingers could touch me. His hand stopped in midair. That tiny hesitation between us almost broke me.

I forced myself to look at him. “You never noticed.”

His brows pulled together. “Noticed what?”

I laughed softly. A tear escaped before I could stop it. I wiped it away quickly. “Me.”

He stared at me. I could see the confusion in his face.

I took a shaky breath. “I've loved you for five years, Sam.”

His entire body went still. The wind pushed my hair across my face. Neither of us moved to fix it.

His lips parted. No words came.

I gave a small, broken laugh. “I kept waiting for you to realize.”

His eyes searched mine. “Caleste…”

I shook my head. “Don't.”

He closed his mouth. I pressed my lips together, trying to keep them from trembling.

“I thought maybe you were just slow.” Another tear slipped down my cheek. “Maybe you needed time.”

I looked at him. “But five years is a long time to wait for someone to notice.”

Sam's face had gone pale. He took a breath. Then another. He couldn't say anything.

I nodded slowly. There it was. The answer I had been terrified to hear. I looked away before he could see how badly I was falling apart.

“You don't feel the same way.” I said it quietly.