sorens safehaven

With his birthday on the horizon, the two of you already have plans to spend the weekend together. Granted, of course. Though what the little birdie failed to tell, or rather did your best to hide, is that you’d kickstart those festivities a couple days early.

As far as you know, he’s still cooped up at the Fleet’s headquarters. Something oh-so-classified and terribly administrative paperwork-adjacent that you’re sure neither of you wanted more of. Caleb especially. He mourns over how he’d rather use this time to keep you company.

‘Be careful what you wish for’ sat pretty on your keyboard before you hit backspace. No, it would be too soon to cave in. So the encouragement of a Sunny Apple sticker and some fighting words are all you offer before the exchange comes to a standstill.

At best, you have at least the hour to yourself to get your affairs in order. Getting to Skyhaven in a timely manner is the least of your worries—this home isn’t that far, and a thumb pressed to the scanner welcomes you into his place with open arms. You make your way towards the stairs, already mapping out a game plan until he comes home. A shower to reset is a lovely start; ransacking his fridge for ingredients and taking to his kitchen is another unchecked box. It had been a while since you ate dinner together, and the taste of his mushroom stir-fry is one you’re more than excited to relive.

A hum subconsciously leaves you, pleased with the intentions yet to come. Another noise beyond yourself—a thud in great weight—seems to agree.

Odd. You should, by all accounts to your expense, be the only one here.

Your humming halts, as do your footsteps on the bottom treads. An apprehensive glance thrown behind you shows no trace of life from where you just were either. But the sound is unmistakable. By the next instance of it, you’re already on a turned heel to find the source.

Ultimately, it leads you to a solid wall. Air that once came to you in subconscious ease now lodges itself into your throat. You’ve been here before, and that alone was a tough pill to swallow. An unsettling feeling wells up in your heart at the memory, and only deepens when you remind yourself that he isn’t here. Shouldn’t be for a while longer, anyhow. So between you and whatever remains behind the wall is a more pressing concern. The chances of a Wanderer materializing are low, but never zero. Still, that possibility alone is enough to have you push the entryway open in hopes that you’re wrong.

Inside, the lights are as dim as you remembered. You squint, feeling around for a light switch with one hand and the other defensively at your front. By the time your fingers slide upwards and the room came to a gentle glow, your defenses drop alongside with your jaw. You don’t think anything could’ve prepared you for what the shadows revealed—namely, the figure of someone you confidently believed to be stuck at work. Crouching at the medical bed looking for something, no less.

Your unsure voice breaks the silence between you. “…Gege?”

Well, it looks like Caleb. His unmistakable shoulders and those brown layers at the nape are definitely him. But the long, spotted tail swishing from his lower back tells another story. Are you dreaming? The slight sting of nails digging into your palm says otherwise.

“You’re home,” Caleb says deliberately. He turns to meet your owlish gaze. As he stands, heads above you like always, there’s a familiar softness in his eyes when he fully takes you in.

Chin in hand, he tilts his head. A rounded ear at his temple twitches—part of a pair, you realize, patterned in the same fashion to that new tail of his. “Didn’t think my favorite kind of company would show up so soon,” he continues. “Maybe I should buy a lottery ticket with this kind of luck.”

“You can’t be serious,” you manage from a stunned stupor. Taking a step forward, you’re able to get a better view of these new features. Ones that are unmistakably attached to his body. “Caleb, what happened to you?”

“I…” He avoids your stare then, and both ears flatten themselves. Gone is the lightheartedness. “I don’t know. Not much, actually. The symptoms started when I returned from a routine patrol last night, and worsened into the morning.”

“What about the Fleet?” Surely, this couldn’t have gone under their radar. Another footstep plants you directly in front of him.

Caleb’s focus returns to you, his expression unreadable, though he doesn’t shy away from your approach. His jaw tenses before he nods. “They ran diagnostics at HQ, but it’ll take some time before results show anything meaningful. I’m still in one piece as far as they’re concerned.”

“…Right.”

That lingering feeling from earlier in your heart twists into something bitter. Perhaps a bit selfish, too. But the words come out regardless before you could stop them.

“And in that timeline, there isn't a pin kept in for telling your sister about this? I suppose her concerns don't exactly measure to the Fleet,” you sneer. Disdain for his higher-ups isn't exactly new territory, but it’s one you’ve always danced around. Something of a sore kept beneath a bandaid that’s only ever torn off in the worst-case scenarios.

“Hey now.” His brows draw together. “You know that’s not true.”

Of course you do. Still, the sentiment shapes into a blunt retort, despite the genuine concern you keep at bay. “Were you going to try and hide this from me? Get better on your own and act like nothing happened, even. Until I came home and on the off-chance, find you cooped up in here.”

A slight tremble to his lips parts them wordlessly, before they close and an exhale leaves him instead. Caleb lowers himself to sit on the edge of the bed. “I wasn’t… Well, okay, I thought I’d have more time to get things sorted. It’s not exactly your everyday run-of-the-mill kind of thing to talk about.”

“Oh, I didn’t know Colonel Xia demoted himself back to Captain Obvious.” Arms crossed over your chest, you frown. “We’ve been through stranger things. Those fluffy ears and tails of yours are entering the top five though. Three, if you include being hidden away in here.”

“Keeping track, are we?” Your eyes only narrow and he raises his hands in defense. “Okay, but I swear on my whole heart you were the first person I was going to tell.”

You raise a brow. “First?”

“And only,” he adds on. “When it comes to Caleb, you get first, hands-on exclusive access to everything that I am. You deserve that much at least.”

The high of your feelings begin to mellow out at his earnestness, and you sigh. At the end of the day, he’s here and that’s what really matters. You could figure out the rest, so long you’re at each other’s side. Caleb reaches for your elbows then, gently tugging them down. His left hand meets yours in a quiet acceptance, warm and dry. A thumb draws back and forth in an act of comfort over your skin.

“Sorry,” you murmur. “My assumptions got the better of me. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that.”

“No,” he shakes his head, “you have a point. I know you’re worried. And we agreed to be more honest with each other. Besides I don’t think this room helps either,” he adds with a wry smile. “Dreary vibes and all that.”

“It could use an interior upgrade or two,” you agree. “Some more lights and a splash of color would definitely help.”

“Alright. We can add furniture shopping to a future date of ours. And you can have as much fun as you want playing designer again.”

“Promise?”

The corners of his mouth lift and his fluffy ears perk up. “Cross my heart and hope to die.” You squeeze his hand. Rather firmly, since he can feel this much. “Okay, okay. No dying.”

“Good—”

“—Yet.”

“God,” you groan, pretending to pull your hand away, “you’re awful!”

He’s quick to bring you back and press a kiss to your knuckles. There’s even little room to fully retract the second his cheek nuzzles your entwined fingers.

“Don’t go,” he purrs, deep from his chest. Your eyes widen. “You came early to keep me company, didn’t you?”

Right. The surprise. His birthday, for heaven’s sakes. These things nearly flew out the window and went back to Linkon without you—but in fairness, the present discovery took immediate precedence. Behind him, his tail turns upward, awaiting your next move.

“Maybe,” you say half-heartedly, distracted by the movement, “I could be convinced to stay if you let me, you know…” Trailing off, you could only swallow at the mere thought of what you're asking for. You tack on a small, “Please?”

“Go ahead,” Caleb confirms, implicit understanding drawing him closer. He rests his chin over your stomach and looks to you, eyes glimmering in mirth. “I won’t bite. Unless you want me to.”

“One step at a time, Gege,” you remind him.

His smile only grows. “Not a ‘no thank you, brother.’ Got it.”

You can’t hide your own grin, but play it off with a scoff. “Hush. I’m about to do a thorough investigation on our little leopard cub here. Cooperation would be greatly appreciated.”

“Yes ma’am,” he affirms. “I’m all yours.”

You bring your free hand to his temple. Starting slow, you’re careful to take one of the round ears between pinched fingers. Thick with fur, it’s a few shades lighter than his original hair and has a decent weight to it. One of your nails faintly swipes across the inner skin by accident, and the very ear twitches. Caleb huffs softly, angling himself to press his forehead instead.

“Did that hurt?” you ask, tentative to move. “I was being gentle, I swear.”

“Laugh now, because I know you will, but no,” he says against your torso. “It feels nice.”

You chew on your lip. In another time, you would’ve entertained that option. Yet, a fluttering takes hold of your heart instead, pleased to hear his satisfaction. It emboldens you to bury your fingers into his hair, and your breath quickens, stroking to this new level of contentment.

Just as you slow your paces and start to withdraw, Caleb lifts his head. His lowered lashes hide the previous light in his eyes, and they're rounded in something else entirely. He puffs out air from both his nose and lips. By looks alone, he could swallow you whole—and you’d absolutely let him.

A weight presses itself against you, found in his tail wrapping around your thigh. Another purr rumbles from him and you let out a soft gasp in turn. One tug is all it takes for you to fall into his embrace, torsos resting over one another. Caleb’s nose lingers at the place between your neck and shoulder. His half-promise to bite you resurfaces in your mind and you shiver, strongly aware of what this proximity offers.

“Caleb…” you sigh, a warmth blooming from your chest and curling your fingers into his hair once more. His teeth lightly nip your skin, quietly fulfilling the unspoken desire between your bodies.

Somehow, without his men knowing or Caleb's, for that matter, you suddenly appear in the Fleet's newly fortified base right after a particular report about Linkon University and a damaged faculty wing was submitted to his table. You're seething, as he predicted, behind a thinly veneer of nonchalance that they're all accustomed to now. At least from a distance.

But he still remembers how you could summon wave after waves of Wanderers with human-capable intelligence without a Metaflux.

You're the unknown variable that Caleb made the mistake of underestimating, and now, the sheer magnitude of his colossal fucked up is in front of him. Which is why, if he needs to get you to listen, he has to do it as carefully as walking through a minefield.

Navigate.

"I take it that Sylus told you about our deal?" Caleb begins smoothly. He does everything by the book to de-escalate the situation. He's still sitting at his desk, both hands on the table so you can see them. His guns were on the counter somewhere, with some measurable distance between them, so you'll know he's unarmed. The large window behind displays the open sky and drifting clouds, hoping they could lighten your heart. He also spared the courtesy of offering you refreshment because most likely, you'll throw it at his head.

"None of you were ever going to help me go home!" You scream, and all pretense of nonchalance disappears. Hurt and so, so much anger practically drips from your tongue. There's something primal about it, the urge to tear him and probably the others, too, in pieces is clear in your own eyes, and yet, Caleb faces you head-on. "Y'all had me 1-on-1 just so you can figure out how I tick! What part of I don't wanna be here anymore none of you get? I know every single one of you fuckers doesn't give a shit about me, so stop pretending that you do, but Infold writers would've never written any of you to treat a woman so cruelly just to make MC look good, so why are you doing this to me!? The GAME is broken to the point that all of you are semi-aware enough, right? Right!? So all of this is on you, not the GAME!"

The silence that descends feels like a familiar hammer, only this time, Caleb is alone.

Slowly, he pushes himself up and does something that had you utterly flabbergasted and beyond anything you could’ve imagined.

Colonel Caleb Xia, one of the most, if not the most, powerful public figureheads in the world, bows with arms firm at his side in a sincere form of military apology.

"I am sorry. I... from the bottom of my heart, I offer you my sincerest apologies for treating you like a criminal." Caleb's voice is rough. You hate how he actually sounds like he means it. "All I ever wanted was to protect her, and in doing so, I treated you despicably. You deserve the truth, and that is... I was, no, am still afraid." His fingers curl into fists, as if he's mustering the courage to push the words out. "One day you appeared out of nowhere. A woman who shouldn't exist. Someone so impossible who knew things she wasn't supposed to know. Someone who could change things simply by being here." He then slowly lifts his head to stare at you again. "And from the moment you came here, all you did was try to survive. I can barely imagine how that feels like; to wake up in a world you recognise but didn't belong to. Every face was familiar and yet completely different. You must've been terrified." The realisation seems to hurt Caleb and against your wishes... it does something in you. You hate that you can see the man before the explosion changed him. Oh, you know Caleb was always a possessive freak when it comes to MC, but he was vulnerable behind the walls he built to protect himself, and by right, he only showed that side of himself to her. So you have no idea how to react now.

But much to your chagrin, Caleb wasn’t done yet. Oh, God.

"And instead of helping you, I kidnapped and tried to interrogate you. You didn't deserve that. I'm sorry. I know what you've lost."

"No, you don't." You interject waspishly, refusing to give him an inch. "What do you know of a healthy family? Josephine was a shitty excuse. I don't even wanna touch your whole deal with MC with a 10-foot poll."

Caleb's jaw ticked, and you would've grinned if you weren't so emotionally exhausted with everything.

"I know enough. You're far away from home and loved ones. Whatever future you've planned for yourself." He swallows. "And I'm sorry for every moment I made that burden heavier. I can't speak for the others but I'm sorry for the pain I've caused you."

"As if the others gave a shit! Pretending to actually—"

"Pretending? I've seen how Xavier's eyes find you even in a room full of people. He mentioned how you light up whenever there's a red bean bun. He loves that about you, the little things about you that he hoard like speckle of stars."

You turn away from him.

"Zayne keeps asking if you've been sleeping. He worries about your health more than his own. Did you know he's been researching patients with immunocompromised? He can't wait to share his progress with you. And Rafayel... he wants another chance. He thinks if he says the right words this time, you'll stop looking at him like he's already lost you."

That got your nose scrunched up and arms folded.

"And Sylus? We all can see how you have him in the palm of your hand. He's utterly fascinated. He sees a woman who keeps fighting, going so far as to defy our world. He admires that about you. And me?"

Caleb exhales once. Deep and heavy. "I envy you."

Your attention immediately snaps back at him. Say what!?

At your shock, a hollow smile adorned his handsome face.

"It infuriates me that... that you don't know how free you are. You move wherever you want. Say whatever you want. You're like a bird." Here, something wistful enters his expression. "You soar through the sky without asking for anyone's permission. You have to know that I've spent my entire life following orders. And somehow you became important to all of us." He then presses a hand on his chest, where the necklace you know is hidden. "You matter to her so naturally... you matter to us too."

The Colonel's office becomes so suffocatingly awkward that you just—

Then you started to laugh, a truly broken sound.

Caleb freezes.

"What does that matter? The GAME can erase me at any point now! I can die in a split second because I'm not supposed to be here, and all of you are too busy trying to play mind games on me, all because of your precious MC! So what exactly is all this love worth, hmm?" You sneer with shaking hands. "And by the way? Apology not accepted. Go kill yourself."

You could tell that your words hit him because Caleb had to stop himself from recoiling. For a moment, genuine pain flashes across his face.

Then something changes.

Something subtle.

Dangerous.

When he opens his eyes again, they are calm. Far too calm for your liking.

"You still don't get it."

"...Get what?"

"None of us chose this world. But you did. You downloaded the App."

A chill crawls up your spine. You... you didn't like the sudden shift of his tone.

With his gaze on you never wavering, you felt like a pinned butterfly underneath a microscope... or a magnifying glass on a hot day. "You chose to enter our lives. That's something none of us can do. Your existence isn't part of the GAME, which in theory, the rules don't own you because you're not MC or any of the side characters. You're a PLAYER... and your choice itself is power. If you stay—"

"Shut the fuck up."

"—you can become real here. You can become one of us."

"I don't want to fucking hear it!"

"If you choose to stay, we'll love you." His voice softens. "The GAME won't be able to delete you. We'll give you a home, a family and you'll never be alone again. All you have to do is choose."

"I don't want that! I want the life that I had! None of you could ever be my family! I want my parents, my siblings, and the friends I made from around the world. Even if my life isn't perfect and I hate my job, at least they belong to me! So no, Caleb. I won't ever choose this world because I will never want to. All of you need to accept that and let me go."

After your tirade and for the first time ever, Caleb looks tired. His shoulders sink with unseen weights.

Then he sighs. A sound heavy with regret. "I was hoping it wouldn't come to this."

Communicate.

Alarm bells started screaming at you.

"Sylus and I made an agreement: He was supposed to convince you with music and the promise of a new family. It's kind of funny, but he was supposed to play the part of the good cop due to his sins against you is lighter than mine." Caleb's expression then hardens. "But you're still not listening."

Your eyes warily follow him as he walks toward a nearby table and reaches for a plain black case. An easy thing to overlook, so don't be too harsh on yourself. The heavy-duty locks on it click open.

"Understand that I never want to do this. If you would just give us a chance, then none of this would've been necessary. Once you've calmed down enough, I'll remove it. I promise."

Terror, unlike anything you've ever experienced, tears through your body as panic begins to make you short of breath because...

Because Caleb is holding up a chip.

He tries to swallow around the sandpaper in his throat, but he can barely move. He doesn't even know if he can open his eyes, settling instead for a half-assed groan.

Explosion, he thought, I had to escape...where?

"You're awake!" a voice cuts through the fog, "Caleb oh my god--".

Slowly the room comes into a sort of focus, and Caleb vaguely registers that he's in a medical facility of some kind. Not again. Before he can panic though, he turns to the sound of the voice and that's when he sees it.

There's an goddess sitting on his bed, holding his hand.

Caleb's heart starts to race, and the monitor next to him beeps angrily. There are purple shadows underneath her eyes from crying, was it something he did? and she's clearly exhausted, but there's no doubt about it. He had been sent a literal angel. Angels are real.

His jaw drops and he stares at her, mouth agape.

The angel looks at him, gaze searching his face, "Caleb are...are you alright? You probably don't remember but--".

Oh my god even her voice is perfect. Caleb thinks. Before he can stop himself, he blurts out-

" Who are you? Are you an angel?"

--

All around the room, jaws drop.

Your eyes widen in shock at Caleb's question. Zayne had warned you that he would likely be very disoriented when he woke up, and that his memories may not be fully intact after removing the Toring chip. You were prepared for that possibility when you signed his surgery waiver, after all, you were more concerned that Caleb was alive and free of the chip, even if it meant forgetting everything that you had built together.

But this wasn't what you were expecting.

Caleb continues to stare at you in wonder as he takes you in, purple eyes slowly going over your form, a look of naked innocent awe as he brings your hands to his cheek. Despite a lifetime together, you've never gotten used to the full intensity of his gaze.

"I must be dead..." he whispers, nuzzling your hand. "There's an angel here to take me away this time at least...right? That's what you're here for?"

Gideon leans forward, grinning, "Oh he's so high."

An emotion you can't name threatens to burst out of your chest.

His speech is slurred, but he continues to nuzzle into your hand, a dopey smile making its way across his lips. Suddenly he groans.

"Oh my god, you even smell good," Caleb declares, "You must be God's favorite. Seriously though, am I dead? If I'm not dead, why did they send a model to my room?"

Gideon starts laughing, "He's even more embarrassing stoned, holy shit".

--

Caleb didn't know that angels could blush. She's looking at him in shock, face warm, so lovely. So lovely, and she smells so good. In his delirium he can't place it, but he wants to live in the scent forever. If he's dead well, he better try to savor this feeling for as long as he can before it all turns to nothing.

She's trying to respond to him, but all she can manage is a very eloquent, "...What?" before turning to the door as a man with black hair steps in.

"You're not dead," this black haired man who looks like a doctor says, " She's your fiancee."

Caleb snorts in derision, "There's no fucking way. Me? Engaged to her? I'm dead and my head hurts, but I'm not stupid."

The doctor, Zayne or whatever based on his name tag, flips through a chart before turning to address her. "We don't know the full extent of his memory loss yet, but his physical signs are trending in the right direction. This is good."

He turns back to Caleb with a sigh, "I swear on my medical license. She's your fiancee. You're also not dead. Now can you sit up? I just need to run some assessments,"

-

Caleb looks at you, fingers tightening around your hand. "It's not funny to lie to someone," he insists. "Angel, are you both making fun of me?".

With some effort, you help Caleb move to a sitting position. He starts a little at the feeling of your hand on his bare back, and you can see his cheeks and ears flush red.

The entire time that Zayne runs his tests, Caleb stares you with a mixture of joy and disbelief. His mouth seems to be on autopilot, unfiltered sentences praising your looks, your voice, the clothes you're wearing, the entire time mumbling about how lucky he was. He's overjoyed when you slip his dogtags back on him, marveling out loud at how of course you picked the perfect gift for him. He listens with rapt attention as you describe your shared apartment, his proposal, the past few years. When you scroll to the engagement photos on your phone, his eyes well up.

"There's just no way. How did I get so lucky? My fiancee is you? You're perfect."

It's all a little bit much, and you giggle. You're not sure how it's possible, but Caleb smiles even harder upon hearing you. "You think I'm perfect?" you ask. "Really?"

With great effort, Caleb sits up straighter, " I know you're perfect. God you're so-- you're so-- really??? I'm going to be your husband?". Out of the corner of your eye, you see Zayne roll his eyes. Caleb had always been forthcoming with complimenting and praising you, but this was on a whole other level.

You clasp both of his hands in yours. "Look, here's the ring." It's a beautiful band, with stones that you had picked together. He had confessed afterwards that he had purchased the centerpiece with the first few paychecks he got from the DAA, and had been holding onto it ever since. "I'm your fiancee Caleb, I've been waiting for you to wake up from your operation."

Suddenly, he scowls, "I made you wait? God, I'm sorry I should've---" his voice falters as he suddenly looks at your lips, "You're-- can we...kiss? I can kiss my wife right? Can I kiss you?"

Wife.

You laugh, "We can kiss as much as you want", you say as you gently hold his face and press your lips to his.

Just like your first kiss, he stares at you after you pull away, his eyes filled with adoration. It reminds you of how the Caleb is when it's just the two of you, open, honest, exuberant, as warm as a beautiful summer day.

"Holy shit" he whispered, "We're gonna ...I'm not dreaming. You're real."

His exhaustion catches up to him, and he sinks back into the pillows. "Do I....have I treated you right?"

Your heart catches at the question. Despite his addled state, you can hear a trace of fear creep into his voice. The guilt and self-hatred omnipresent in his mind. Softened now, but forever there. His ever present concern for you, despite the state he was in, brings tears to your eyes.

"You're actually a stupid jerk sometimes, but you do," you say, "I love you so much."

His eyes start to flutter close, "Oh good...I have to...keep doing that. I gotta be with you forever."

You lean to kiss his forehead, "I need you forever too. Please stay by my side."

-

"Who are you? Are you an angel?"

Caleb groans as the crowd turns to the screen. Gideon promised a surprise was involved in his best man speech and could he pretty please use a projector too? Unbeknownst to Caleb, Gideon had managed to record the entire episode, and now he's playing it at max volume at your wedding.

"I'm dead and my head hurts, but I'm not stupid."

You turn to him, beaming, " You know I'm going to use this against you for the rest of our lives right?"

He scoffs in mock outrage, "As if you didn't already have enough ammo against me,"

The ammunition is my heart, my soul, it was promised to you since we met.

"I've always made it clear that I love you."

"Yeah but you think I'm an angel, literally sent from the heavens."

Caleb presses a kiss to your forehead, "That's what I thought since the moment we were kids, when we first met. Now I'm the lucky man with an angel for a wife."

When we first met in that sterile room, I knew my destiny was always going to be intertwined with you, is what he doesn't say out loud.

But it's always been obvious hasn't it?

a/n: This was originally way angstier at first but I scrapped all the backstory (it involved a ship exploding and like end-of-life flashbacks). Slinking back to my cave to write Xavier/MC/Caleb next I think. Reblogs and comments and likes are always appreciated!

In fact, Caleb looked happier when after the ceremony, MC bounded up with him with a grin, patting his hair and congratulating him for getting married and finally, finally moving on. To which he blushed and replied to her with something inaudible to you.

So from the very beginning, there’s always been three there has always been three in the spaces you occupied with your husband, three at the altar (you wondered if Caleb had imagined it was MC standing in your place on your wedding day), three in the bed (you could even imagine MC lying in empty space inbetween you and Caleb as you slept, and three at the table (at first before Caleb had learnt more about you, the dishes he served were all reminecent of MC’s favourites). You knew MC haunted, haunts, your marriage. But like any good wife, you looked the other way and hoped for the best. 

Although it was not that you expected for Caleb to start acting like your husband right off the bat (you told yourself he needed time to heal). Not that you expected him to treat you like MC. Not that you never stopped praying that the underdog (you) of the story may prevail eventually. Yet the silence in his cold, gray penthouse, the lack of physical touch between the two of you, the meals consumed in harrowing conversation (you’d have to give it to him for always trying to ask you how your day was everyday), the nights spent so far away from each other, was slowly convincing you that this marriage was nothing but one of convenience. All you did was try your best to keep holding onto the hope that maybe things would change with Caleb for the better. 

About two years into the marriage, Caleb surprised you by asking if you could have a child together. 

You were shocked he was the one to ask. 

Your remembered first attempt at intimacy had gone miserably. You could freshly recall on your wedding night when Caleb had loomed over you in the darkness of the bedroom, his chest heaving - though he hadn’t moved to do anything, anything at all - with spots of tears forming in the crease of his eye. After ten minutes of silence, he rolled off you.

‘I— I’m sorry…I- I can’t.’

You had told him it was okay. And you never mentioned it again, so you were coloured surprised when Caleb meekly asked you, as if he thought you might get upset, to try for a baby. 

Fortunately for him, it only took about three times before you presented him with a positive pregnancy test. Fortunately for you as well, since each attempt was very awkward, terrifyingly so. You had no idea where you should have out your hands, your legs, if he even wanted your hands on him— and neither did Caleb know what to do with his touch. You’d think he didn’t want a baby by how hesitant he was acting. However, eventually when you did hand him that test with two pink lines, Caleb’s face practically glowed. You had never seen your husband, in all these years of marriage, look so…happy, so much more like his actual age than the cold, gloomy colonel you were married to. For the first time, you saw the sunny Caleb that you only got to know through photos stuck in dusty albums in the corners of your home. He hugged you, kissed you, and laughed in relief. 

Relief? 

Honestly, you were somewhat relieved too. Usually, Caleb would be away for prolonged periods of time, always muttering about something to to with the fleet, a mission, training, before departing for sometimes weeks at a time, but ever since you got pregnant, Caleb cut back on prolonged duties and stayed by your side if he could. There was one thing you could never complain about him, was that when it really came down to it, Caleb was not a bad husband by the books. He constantly cooks, cleans, cares and caters for you, and even more so now, he’ll drop whatever is on hand at moment’s notice to come running to you if you said you felt the slightest bit of discomfort. Plus, with all the baby essentials Caleb had purchased, they had really livened up the house much more. You watch as he assembles them without the need to look at the instructions whilst sitting on the floor of the living room. As he fusses about with you taking the right supplements, about getting enough sleep…it’s cute. It’s the closest feeling you’ve ever experienced to having a real husband,  despite being married for well over two years now. 

On a muggy afternoon, you inched out of Caleb’s grasp (he has now found it in himself to sleep closer to you with one hand usually over your stomach if you allow it) and wobbled your way to the walk in closet for some airier clothes. As you sifted through the racks, you accidentally knocked out a few photos from Caleb’s colonel service coat, which fluttered down to the bottom of the closet. Crouching down (whilst you still could), you inspected the photos. 

Oh.

It was a laminated photo of your baby’s ultrasound. Not just that, but on the edges of the photo, written neatly in his handwriting in pen, were the words: [name]’s ultrasound appointment on xx/xx/xxxx. 

Adorable, you thought, that Caleb carried this around with him. You privately wondered if he would proudly show it off to his co-workers or his underlings. You hoped he might, maybe even boast a little about how lucky he and his wife was. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, wondering if this marriage was finally taking a step into the right direction. 

But right next to that photo was that necklace. When U Come Back. You knew very well the story behind that necklace, how MC had given it to him before he left for the aerospace academy. How he used to wear it, 24/7, but had at least the decency to stop wearing it at all times and only keep it on him, after he married you. Yes, at least he had the decency to now never take off your wedding bands. Your eyes glazed over the necklace again. Bitterly, you wondered if he’d ever want to carry a photo of him and you someday. 

Nevermind. You dried your eyes quickly. At least in this marriage, both he and you, are getting something that you both wanted, something that you will both cherish more than anything. 

A bouncing baby girl.

He wanted your baby. He needed your baby. He wanted to be a father, because he wanted to be a father, a nurturing, loving figure, right? And not for any other reason? Right?

Right.

Two weeks later, whilst tidying up the kitchen, your hand bumped against a bright yellow lunchbox patterned with little apple stickers, long forgotten beneath a pile of documents and papers. Fondly, you picked it up. 

In the very earliest days of your marriage, you had done the domestic, wifely thing of making your husband a lunchbox before he departed for work every morning. And he had returned an empty box everytime, down to the last grain of rice being picked clean. You still remember the fuzzy feeling of seeing Caleb smile at you, thanking you for such a delicious meal, how his subordinates had all fawned over the presentation, how delicious it was, how lucky the colonel was to have such a lovely wife…

So why not do it again? You thought merrily, after all, you haven’t made him a packed lunch in a while. Maybe showing up at his work with a delicious lunchbox might perk him up. Excitedly, you got into your car and made your way down into central Skyhaven. 

Entering the fleet HQ, you were immediately guided to your husband’s office. 

You were about to turn the handle and step in - usually there weren’t much visitors in his office in the middle of the day - but a chorus of loud voices stopped you. 

“And to Caleb! The newest dad-to-be!”

“The first of all of us to be a father, actually.”

You heard a round of clinking cups. It must be Caleb, inviting his flight school friends to celebrate the impending birth of your child. At his office though…strange. But it must be because he’s been so busy, he hardly had any time to go anywhere except his workplace and his home.

“Woah…no, no more.” You recognised that as Caleb’s voice. You could imagine his hand gliding over to cover the surface of his glass.

Drinking? In the middle of the day? Seriously? You snorted, hand going down on the handle again, But at least it’s to a good cause. Caleb being a new dad and all.

“But seriously. Here’s also to your marriage not being a total disaster!” 

Your stopped before you could push against the door.

“It’s not. A total disaster.” Caleb said, his voice a bit slurred though not completely drunk.

“Yeah, yeah…we all know you had the hots for MC, but she ended up marrying that sexy doctor instead of the big bag colonel, didn’t she, oof—!” 

A thud. Caleb had probably slammed whoever said that against the wall. A series of ‘ooohs’ followed.

“Kidding, kidding…”

“You better be.” Caleb dusted his hands off, sinking back into his seat. “I’ve long moved on from MC. I even have proof.”

“Oh yeah? Don’t tell me it’s—”

He pulled out the ultrasound picture that he kept in his uniform pocket, showing it to everyone in the room.

“I had a child with my wife. Can’t you see how much I’ve moved on already? I can have a child with someone who’s not MC. See?”

Tears stung your vision. 

So thats what he was using that picture for. 

Not for a happy memory’s keepsake, no. But to show the world that he, Colonel Caleb Xia, the yearner, the lover, the oh-so-perfect man…has moved on from his sweet MC.

…

You quickly threw the lunchbox you made away, and fled the building. You needed to get away from him, in that moment. You didn’t want to linger on in this kind of feeling anymore.

…

Time passes a lot quicker, you found, when it wasn’t just you in the house all day. With Caleb by your side (more or less constantly in the final few months of your pregnancy) the days had quickly passed. And before you knew it, there was a living, breathing infant in your arms. 

The birth was easy, and again, you were grateful for Caleb’s support (he never left your side in those six hours, plus you’ve heard far too many horror stories of baby daddies bringing their Xbox, or not showing up at all…) though admittedly you swore at him multiple times and eventually snapped at him to wait outside. However, part of you feared he might react to an actual baby, his and your baby, with regret and hesitation. You couldn’t shake the fear that Caleb might feel prejudiced against a baby you made with him instead of one borne from him and MC. But those fears quickly evaporated when you saw Caleb crying, sniffling, holding the little pink bundle in his arms.

Both Caleb and you were overjoyed, though also albeit scared, naturally like most first-time parents. He was seriously dedicated at every step. Again, you’d have to give it to him for being a good dad. 

After returning from the hospital, he never allowed you to get up in the middle of the night to soothe the baby. He never complained about doing the messy work that came with babies, often willingly taking care of all her wants every day as if trying to prove a point. He now even tries to come home earlier and go on less long-distance fleet missions to spend more time with the baby, something he’s never done for you in the time you were married. You watched as he poured his whole heart into being a good dad for a tiny little girl. A perfect masculine figure. Ever so sensitive to what she needed.

But what about what you needed?

Sometimes when you come home after a day out with your friends or a solo trip somewhere, the moment you open the door to your home, you feel as if your entire world is behind that doorway. That despite all the freedoms Caleb has given you in this marriage (the financial freedom, ‘you can go anywhere you want’ , you can do whatever you wish, travel anywhere), your world had drastically shrank to the man sitting in the grey parlour, who wasn’t even facing you.

On other days, he wasn’t even there. 

Gone to MC’s. Emergency.

….you weren’t exponentially surprised by the reason. Caleb frequently rushed to MC’s house to deal with her emergencies. At this point, you simply shrugged it off and continued on as you usually would. Only that when you went to the nursery to check on your daughter…

The crib was empty. 

Your heart dropped. You had frantically dialled his number. No response. You racked your head for thousands of possibilities. Did someone take her? Did he mention he was taking her anywhere? Did he…did he take your child? Taking off with MC to a place where you’d never find him again? Did Caleb pack up and leave altogether? With your baby?

You told yourself it couldn’t be true. That he’d never do something like that. He wouldn’t. That Caleb is a good, kind man. But to what distances he would go for MC, you had no idea. All you knew was that you’d like it to be you instead of her. 

Ten minutes later, you were banging the front door of MC’s house. 

Surprisingly, it was her husband, Zayne, who answered. 

“[name]? What are you doing here?” Zayne asked, surprised. 

He didn’t even get to answer before you shoved past him, calling Caleb’s name. 

“Caleb, Caleb?!” Your mind flashed with possibilities of where he could be. Maybe he was already gone. Maybe he took MC and drove up to the airport already. But surely not, his car was parked outside, and, and…

There he was. In MC’s backyard, sleeves rolled up, that stupid grin on his face as he…tacked a nail into a piece of plywood, MC hovering over him with a tray of lemonade. You stopped in your steps where the stone of the house met grass, calming down, as you watched your husband beam up at MC, sweat glistening down his muscular arms, droplets forming on his healthy skin, a damp V forming at the top of his t-shirt. Time seemed to slow as Caleb reached up, took a sparkling glass, smiling at MC gratefully, a smile so bright you’ve never seen in all those times you ever offered him something. 

“Caleb!” You snapped, finally loud enough that he whipped his head around, MC too. “Caleb! Where’s our daughter—“

Before you could even hear his reply, a beaming MC gasped in delight and smothered you in a hug. 

“[name]! You’re here too! That’s perfect, you should stay and have dinner! Ooh, I’ll tell Zayne to set an extra space at the table.” She spun around, shouting into the open patio doors. “ZAAAAAYNIIIIEEEEE?” 

She talked at such a fast pace, you barely even got to get a word in on how you didn’t really want to stay for dinner, how you just wanted to demand where your daughter is and go home. In that moment, you didn’t even really care if your husband went home with you. But just as you opened your mouth…

“Aw, pips, there’s no need, I’m almost done with building this part already.” 

MC pouted, that little, pathetic, faux-childish pout she always made at her dear gege. 

“C’mon, Caleb, staying for dinner is the least you could do for me, after rushing over on such short notice to build Zachary’s treehouse.” She said, referring to hers and Zayne’s son. She turned to you and smiled, dropping her voice to a whisper, “Zayne is so useless when it comes to things like this, and my gege is the best!” 

She turned back to Caleb. “And bringing your adorable little daughter too! I’ve been dying to meet her. You know I’ve asked you so many times already.”

You paused. “Wait a minute. You…asked Caleb to…to bring…”

“Yes!” MC replied, “I know she’s only a few months old, but all I’ve been asking Caleb is to let me meet my adorable niece!” 

It was almost laughable. The ‘emergency’ that required Caleb’s immediate attention was the construction of  a treehouse for MC’s son.  You couldn’t help but wonder how many other of these such trips to her house that Caleb took were also something else, something less significant but labelled as an ‘emergency’. 

You turned to Caleb, absolutely pissed. 

“You. You took my daughter just like that? You took her without asking me?” 

“I told you I was going to MC’s—“

“You didn’t tell me you were taking her!” 

“I thought you would have assumed—“

Right. Like you should assume, like every other little bit of your marriage, you should have assumed that Caleb’s judgement was right. That your husband is doing his best for you. For this marriage. That you should assume every step he did, he was thinking of you first, and not MC. You should always assume. You’d be happier off that way. 

But obviously, you were much more headstrong than Caleb let on. You were no longer the nervous blushing bride that had once optimistically stood by his side. 

“You have no right to take her and tell me, her mother, to just assume anything about the safety of her own child.” You replied, in a tone that surprised Caleb so much, that he wasn’t sure how to reply.

MC, caught in the middle, immediately pushed in to diffuse the tension.

“Aw, don’t be like that, my sister-in-law.” She smiled, holding onto your arm. “Don’t blame Caleb, it’s my fault. I asked him to bring the baby.” 

“No, no.” Caleb cut in, standing up and putting a hand onto MC’s shoulder. “Don’t blame yourself.” 

He turned to you, frowning. “[name], I think we’ve just blown this way out of proportion. No one’s been hurt and you’re acting if I’ve kidnapped someone!”

“You know that’s not what I—“

“Come on.” Caleb gently took your hand, herding you towards the house. “Our daughter’s fine. She’s asleep upstairs.”

He led you past the living room, past the kitchen where a frazzled Zayne stood, wordlessly watching as Caleb led you up the staircase and into the nursery, familiar with the layout as if it was his own house, to where your daughter was sleeping peacefully in their son’s old crib. 

“See?” Caleb sighed, “Nothing’s wrong. You got all worked up over nothing.” 

You wanted to yell and him and tell him that this wasn’t nothing. That somehow ‘nothing’ always seemed to be associated with his behaviour with MC, and that none of what happened concerning MC in your marriage could just be swept under the rug like that. Maybe that’s how he preferred it, you thought bitterly.

“I want to go home.” Was your only reply.

Caleb’s shoulders slackened. “C’mon, let’s just stay for dinner…”

“I want. To go. Home.”

Your husband seemed to give up this case, and sighed. “Alright.” He replied, “Let me get my jacket.”

Suddenly, both of your heads turned, as you heard MC rap her hand against the nursery doorframe. 

“Caleb…can I just speak with you for a second before you go…?”

You wanted to question if she had been lurking outside, listening, but Caleb cut in front of you. 

“Of course.” He replied.

He took MC by her shoulder“We’ll just be a minute.” He called to you.

“You don’t mind, do you?” MC asked graciously. 

“Sure.” You replied evenly. “I’ll just be in here. Come get me when you’re done, okay? I’ll dress our daughter to leave.”

You saw Caleb nod, before escorting MC down the stairs. You made sure they both saw you close the nursery door.

You mad good on your promise to stay in the nursery and dress your fussy little daughter (who was looking more like Caleb by the day). Five minutes later, gently creaking open the nursery door, you snuck outside, thinking they’d finished their conversation already.  But you realised they hadn’t gone far. As you stood on the stairs with your back against the side of the wall, you could clearly hear Caleb and MC talking in the living room behind the staircase. 

Their words made your heart beat out of your chest.

“Is your wife always so…uptight?” You heard MC mumble, her voice suddenly sultrier than before.

“No, she’s just…” You heard Caleb began.

I’m just what, Caleb?

“…she’s just emotional, that’s all.”

You heard MC snort. “Emotional? Hardly. I seem to remember that at your wedding, she was ever so meek and crittery, so nervous, so deferent, so grateful to marry the big strong colonel…” She sighed, “And I thought that, y’know, hey! She might do a lot of good for you. She’s like a squeaky mouse, just like another version of me, how I was your ‘pipsqueak’…” Her voice suddenly dropped to a whine. 

“I thought maybe you found a better replacement.”

You heard sounds that indicated that Caleb stepped forwards to hug her. 

“MC…nothing and nobody could ever replace you.” Caleb said gently.

They were silent for a long time. Wetness had began to gloss your eyes.

“Well…on that happy note…” MC mumbled, “I have some news for you.”

“Hm? What is it?” 

“I’m…” She giggled, “I’m expecting.”

“You’re what?!” You heard Caleb exclaim.

“Shhhh! I said I’m expecting. I’m going to have another baby.” MC replied hushedly. 

“Oh wow…congratulations!” Caleb laughed. “Guess I’m ready to be uncle to another mini-zayne, huh?” 

MC let out a small happy sigh. “Not quite.”

“What do you mean? Do you think this baby’s going to look more like you, or—” 

“No, no…”

A pause. MC gazed up at your husband, clasping his hands.

“Caleb…the baby is yours.”

…

You couldn’t bear to hear the rest of the conversation. You sprinted back up the stairs, going back into the darkness of the nursery. You hated yourself for it, but you couldn’t help but sob, sob over this marriage which you’ve always held hope to, this marriage which, admittedly, up to that moment you were still clinging onto the hope that things may turn to the better, that your fate might change, that this wasn’t all a mistake, that your marriage wasn’t just a helpless fantasy on your part…

But look at you now.

Crying on the floor of the house which belonged to the woman who your husband was obsessed with. Crying with a baby that was only born into the world to prove a point for your husband, to prove that he had moved on. Or worse, your poor baby daughter wasn’t even born to prove a point anymore, she had only served to prove a lie, a lie that was quickly unravelling at the hands of the man who demanded her existence.

Caleb…oh, Caleb.

Your tears stopped when you heard someone coming up the stairs. Immediately, you dried your eyes and stood up, trying to slow down your breaths and calm yourself down. You refused to face your husband like this. You refused to make a scene. Not now, anyway.

“Ready to go?” He asked, pushing the door open. 

You didn’t turn for a second. In that moment, time seemed to stop. 

Slowly, you turned to him, your daughter held tightly in your arms.

“Sure.” You smiled, “Let’s go home.”

…

Home. Such a funny word.

As you watched the glowing skyscrapers pass you in the passenger seat, you suddenly felt very calm. The air was wet from rain, and a cool summer breeze had began to sweep through the night. You thought you might feel rage, or resentment, but instead…all you felt was a strange sense of sereneness. You were disappointed at Caleb, sure, but not as surprised as you thought you’d feel.

Which felt worse than being angry. 

You’d rather feel that rush of adrenaline, make a scene, throw something at his face and scream at him and cry and slap him, maybe, but no, no, all you felt was a churning pit of emptiness in the pits of your stomach. Your belly empty, while MC’s swelled with life. His life.

“What do you want to have for dinner when we get back home?” Caleb asked you, breaking the silence.

You shrugged, wondering when, or if that all, he was going to confirm for you what you had overheard. 

“Don’t be like that.” He nudged you with a half smile, “You can pick anything. Anything at all to eat, it’s up to you.”

You didn’t want to eat with him. Even the thought of sitting at the same table, across him, made you feel sick. The thought of your mouth wrapping around the utensils that once touched his mouth, his mouth that once warmed MC’s tongue. Biting into food prepared by his hands, his hands that once traveled across MC’s naked skin. A sickening scene.

You didn’t want anything to do with him. 

“I’d rather you decide.” Came your firm reply. “Since you seem to decide everything that goes on around here.”

Caleb sighed, a long heavy drag. “[name], I don’t know what you want me to tell you.” He spun the wheel, pulling into the familiar street. “So can we please just drop the attitude?”

“What attitude?” You asked, fluttering your lashes as often MC did when she wanted to appease her dearest gege, “I really don’t mind what we eat. Why would I?”

“[name].” He said more seriously, “Please. I don’t want a scene. Our baby’s asleep in the back and I’d really like to keep it that way.”

Right, so you’d be fine having an argument if our daughter wasn’t here. Speaking of children…

“MC’s looked glowing today, don’t you think?” You mentioned, sliding out of the passenger’s seat almost the second Caleb rolled the car into the driveway. 

He shot you a strange look as he unlatched your daughter from her baby seat in the back. “Yes…she did. Why do you ask?”

You shrugged innocently, unlocking the front door, “Nothing, I just meant that motherhood agrees with her.” 

Caleb said nothing in reply. You watched as he carried your daughter inside, not a muscle in his face giving away a single hint of suspicion or anxiety. You knew what kind of man your husband was. It wouldn’t be so easy to gauge out the truth from him, or any semblance of emotion he didn’t want to express for that matter. But you were expecting this.

“Do you think she’s going to have another one?” You said coquettishly, shrugging off your coat.

He couldn’t help it this time. You watched from behind as his shoulder twitched, ever so slightly, for not even half a second. 

“I wouldn’t know.” Caleb replied, his tone ordinary, “I wouldn’t be surprised if she did. She and Zayne are a happy couple, after all.” 

Your husband would have made a great actor, you thought humorlessly. You wondered if he was tearing himself apart inside.

“Actually.” You raised your hand, smiling. “I don’t want dinner.”

Caleb turned, cocking an eyebrow at you. “What? But you—”

“I’m not hungry anymore.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” You nodded, one foot on the stairs. “I’m going to bed early. It’s been a long day.”

“But it’s only—“

“Goodnight, Caleb.”

“…goodnight.” 

…

Weeks had passed. You’ve continued to act as if nothing had gone wrong. Caleb went to work, came back from work, cooked, played with your baby girl (who was now crawling all over the place) and went to bed. The only aspect that he felt…off, about, was how pacified you acted now. 

You didn’t pepper him with questions about his day anymore.

You weren’t there to ask if he was feeling alright the moment he came home.

You couldn’t even bring yourself to stand closer to him.

It was as if the marriage had undergone mitosis and split itself in two, as if the straining cell it had once been has finally pulled away from the other half. All that remained was two individuals, standing inches apart in the kitchen, sitting a meter away in the living room, sleeping in beds that felt miles away from each other at night.

Your scents didn’t even mingle together anymore. The air in your home felt stagnant. You were sure that if you hadn’t got used to it, if you weren’t you for a second and you had visited your current home for the first time, you would assume that there were no inhabitants in it at all. 

You could imagine it now. The edge of the scissors pulling the winding umbilical cord into a taught triangular shape in the sterile air, about to snap shut, about to separate the two entities, mother snd baby, to deliver individuality and freedom to both…there just needed to be a little push. A little force. Just a little more, and you would be able to forever sever this rotting chord that ties you to this marriage . 

Every day, Caleb would come home and wonder what changed your demeanor so much. And you’d wonder when your husband would grow the balls to tell you that MC is pregnant with his baby.

He didn’t on week one. Or two. Or three. Or four. And as you can guess…

He didn’t speak a word when MC posted a gender reveal (week 19) online, the cutting of the triple-tiered cake revealing flamingo-pink insides. Caleb liked that post, you saw.

He also didn’t mention a word when MC announced a baby shower (week 28), which you were also invited to (the gall. can you imagine the audacity?). You had acted perfectly amicable, presenting MC with a hug and a basket of gifts. Caleb had gone to congratulate Zayne. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the irony.

By the time the date hit 30 weeks after you overheard their conversation, you had had enough.

If Caleb was going to be a coward about it, then you would force him to confront the truth.

…

Week 34 was fast approaching. You knew a normal pregnancy would end at about 37 weeks to 40, so when Caleb, suddenly, in the middle of your morning shot up from his seat after answering a call, you were surprised.

“What’s wrong?” You asked.

“MC had th—her baby.”

“Already?” You hummed. “It’s a bit early, isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Caleb gasped, practically sprinting to put on his jacket hanging by the bannister, “That’s why I need to go see her. Now.”

“No wait!” You stood up, grabbing his wrist. “I’m coming too.”

“No.” He replied. “You shouldn’t. Someone needs to stay home with our daughter. And I won’t be long.”

“No, no!” You chirped merrily, picking up your daughter from her high chair. “Let’s bring our baby. After all, she should get to know her new half-sister.”

You enjoyed watching the colour suddenly bleach from his face.

“What?” His tone was chilling, shaken, almost boyish. 

“You heard me.” You fished out the car keys from the little ceramic dish near the front door. “Come on.“

“[name]—“

“I thought you were in a hurry to go.”

“[name].” Firmer, now.

“So let’s go.”

“[NAME]!” Caleb yelled. It was the first time he had yelled at you.

“What is it?” You blinked back.

Caleb’s eyes were bloodshot. His shoulders heaved. 

“How long…have you knew?” 

“I think the better question is, Caleb,” Your face, he thought, was frighteningly unreactive. “When were you planning on telling me?”

He threw his hands down, turning away from you. “I was going to tell you today. After the baby was born.”

“So you can force me to face the consequences of your actions? If I like it or not? Is that why?”

“No! Don’t put words in my mouth.” He faced you again. “I was going…I was going to…”

“To what?” 

“To work something out.”

“And how was that going to end?” 

“I—“

“I’ll tell you how that was going to end, Caleb Xia.” You stabbed your finger against his solid chest. “It would end in me having to make sacrifices. It would end up in me in pain, over and over again, just to cope with how you’ve decided to treat me! I will be the one at a loss while you, you will get what you’ve always wanted. Every decision you’ve made was never for me. It was always either for you or for MC! I don’t believe a word that comes out of your mouth when you tell me that you’ll ’work something out’. I know you’ll give me the short end of the straw. You already have, for every day we’ve been married. Yet you never realise, because of course in the end whatever happens would work out for you, because it always fucking does!”

“[name].” Caleb breathed, “Calm down.”

“Don’t tell me to—“

“I’ll be home as quick as I can.” He said, pulling on his shoes at the door. “And then we’ll settle this.”

You laughed.

“Oh, Caleb.” 

You watched as he glanced at you from the corner of his eye.

“I’m sure you’ll find yourself right at home.” You said with a smile. 

…

“Caleb, come quick!” MC giggled, waving her hand to usher him in. “I just sent Zaynie to go out to the cafe to buy me some lunch.”

Caleb looked over at the bassinet, where a tiny wriggly baby wrapped in white lay. His lips broke out into a smile, a little wider than when he had first met his daughter with you, before gently, very gently reaching into the blankets, prying them apart, to reveal the scrunched up face of his new daughter.

He instantly folded, a finger stroking her wrinkly cheeks.

“Hey there, sweetheart…” Caleb cooed, as the baby made an uncommitted sound. 

She was tiny. Wrinkly. But to Caleb, she was one of the cutest things he’s ever seen. She was part of him, and part of MC, after all. 

Caleb took an awed breath in, as she fluttered her eyelashes, opening her eyes to reveal…

Big, green eyes.

Her eyes were green. 

A bright, mocking, hazel.

Just.

Like.

Her father’s.

Zayne.

…

“What the fuck?” Caleb spun to MC, “You said—“

“Well…” MC smiled devilishly, a telltale sign that she knew the entire time, “I assumed wrong, I guess.”

“But you told me it was from that one night when—“

“There’s no way I could have conceived her with you from just one night, compared to how many times I’ve fucked Zayne around the same time.” She noticed Caleb wince in uncomfort at the mention of her activities with her husband. “You were right. Aren’t you always, gege.”  

“But—“

“Caleb, the baby isn’t yours.” MC snapped. 

He stood by the beside, shellshocked. 

She exhaled out of her nose, smoothing out her blankets. “There is no ‘but’ to it.”

Caleb let out an exasperated breath. “I can’t believe you lied to me. You lied to be about something this important!”

“I had to!” Suddenly, her voice turned an 180 and became a pitiful, little cry. 

“Gege…I was trying to help you…you married [name] and seemed to be so upset all the time, so I had to think of a way to get you out of that marriage. And see, now…” She smiled, “She’s out of the picture and will never bother you again.”

“You don’t understand!” Caleb shook his wrist out of her grasp, “I would never have…have put [name] through all this if it wasn’t my child to begin with.“

“Come on, Cay, you’re just being selfish now.” MC picked at her nails, “It’s all for the best. You didn’t enjoy being married to her in the first place anyway. I can’t believe you went through all the trouble of having a kid with her just to prove that you were over me. You’re so pathetic, gege.” She chuckled.

Caleb felt as if he could not move. MC’s voice seemed to become a distant echo, until…

“Gege?”

He snapped back into reality. Caleb frantically began pulling on his jacket, turning his back to MC, his shallow breaths filling the room. 

“Gege, don’t go.” She said softly, “It’s all for the best. You’ll still be an uncle to the baby. To our family. We’ll be together again, aren’t you happy about that?”

Caleb’s hand tightened on the door. He turned to look at MC, with the most hollow look in his eyes she’d ever seen him possess. Emptier even than the time she renounced him as her gege.

“No.” He replied curtly, pushing the door open. 

“Caleb Xia.” MC barked. “Xia Yizhou!”

For the first time, Caleb didn’t look back to her.

…

Caleb wasn’t sure how many speed limits he broke while making his way home, but from the look of the bumper, he should be expecting a few tickets soon.

He was in a daze as he got out of the car, almost stumbling to the front door of the house, unlocking it. 

He was ready. To apologise. To kneel before you and beg for forgiveness. 

Anything at all.

To go back to the beginning. To make things right, as they should be between a husband and his wife.

To be a family. You, him and your precious baby, that you gave him.

He opened the door.

The house was silent.

Almost empty.

Empty…

The empty table. The empty living room. The empty bedrooms. The empty nursery. It was as if the house had reversed to its first day Caleb had moved in, where every inch was shrouded by plastic wrap and packed in cardboard. When no life had been breathed into his home.

A home without love is just a house, after all. How long had Caleb been trying to change that?

How long had he stayed, in denial, that his goal had actually been long fulfilled?

Where are the people who made his house a home?

“[name]?” Caleb called out. “[name]? Where are you?”

A prickling feeling creeped up against his spine as Caleb made his way back into the kitchen, where you had the fight just before he left. The plates had been cleared away, leaving only a sticky note taped onto the table.

You finally got your dream. I hope you can be happier with MC and your family with her. It’s all for the best. Love, [name] :)

Caleb fell to his knees.

A choked cry echoed through the house.

What dream? What family? 

What had he forsaken to chase after his selfish needs?

He wasn’t happier. Not even a little.

Not at all.