Caliste stood barefoot at the shoreline, the water lapping at her toes. The moon reflected silver over the waves, mocking her quiet heartbreak.
She wrapped her arms around herself. Why had she hoped Lucian would say something—anything? Even just, "I care." But instead, he sat there in silence, choosing safety over honesty.
She heard footsteps in the sand.
"Didn't expect to see you out here alone," Jace said gently.
Caliste didn't turn to him. "I needed air."
"You okay?"
"No," she said honestly.
He stepped beside her. "He's not worth your tears."
She gave a short laugh. "I'm not crying."
"But you want to."
Caliste glanced at him then, his profile softened by the moonlight. He was charming in a safe way. Familiar. Easy.
And tonight, that felt… tempting.
"I guess I'm stupid," she said. "For thinking he'd change."
"You're not stupid," Jace murmured. "You're hopeful. There's a difference."
She looked down. "Maybe I should've married someone like you."
His breath hitched slightly.
"You know," he said after a pause, "I used to wish for that too. Back when we were kids. I thought if I stayed close enough, maybe one day you'd look at me like that."
Her eyes flicked up to him, confused. "Like what?"
He stepped closer, voice dropping. "Like I mattered."
And before she could stop him, Jace leaned in and kissed her.
It wasn't forceful—but it wasn't hesitant either. It was intentional.
Caliste's eyes widened, her heart stuttering. Her hands stayed at her sides, unsure. She didn't pull away—at first. But the image of another kiss, another man's scent, another man's voice clouded her mind.
Lucian.
She broke the kiss. "Jace… I can't."
His face fell. "Because of him?"
"Because it wouldn't be fair to either of us."
He nodded slowly, stepping back. "I had to try."
Behind them, a cold voice sliced through the night air.
"Well, you've made your move. Can I have my wife back now?"
Caliste and Jace both turned sharply.
Lucian stood a few feet away, fists clenched at his sides, his expression unreadable—but his eyes burned.
"How long were you watching?" Jace asked, jaw tight.
"Long enough," Lucian growled.
Caliste stepped in between them. "Don't do this."
"I'm not doing anything," Lucian said, his voice bitter. "You're the one letting old flames kiss you on the beach."
"It was a moment, Lucian."
"Funny. You didn't let me kiss you twice."
"Because you always pull away after!" she snapped.
Silence.
Jace cleared his throat. "Maybe we should all cool off—"
"Shut up," Lucian and Caliste said in unison.
Caliste turned back to Lucian, her chest rising and falling with angry breaths. "I can't keep doing this. One minute you're hot, the next you're ice. You won't say what you feel, and now you act like you own me?"
"You're my wife," he said tightly.
"In name only. And even that's temporary."
Lucian flinched like she slapped him.
Caliste took a deep breath, her voice quieter now. "I'm leaving the island."
Lucian froze. "What?"
"I'll take the yacht in the morning. I need space. You obviously don't want to figure us out—so I'll save you the trouble."
He stepped forward, his voice cracking. "Don't go."
She stared at him, surprised. "Then give me a reason to stay."
He opened his mouth—but again, no words came. Just that damn silence.
Tears welled in her eyes.
"You can't, can you?"
Lucian's hands trembled at his sides. "I don't want to hurt you."
"You already are."
She turned and walked off the beach.
Lucian stood there, alone again, the sea crashing quietly behind him.
Jace remained in the shadows, watching Lucian with something between pity and contempt.
"You had her," Jace muttered. "And you blew it."
The sun had only just started to rise, casting a warm gold across the sleepy harbor. The gentle sloshing of waves against the dock was the only sound accompanying Caliste as she waited quietly beside the yacht.
Her bag was packed. Her heart wasn't.
She'd left a note on the dining table. Short. Cold. Just like him.
> "I need space. Don't try to stop me."
But of course, that wasn't how things worked with Lucian Velmore.
She heard the low growl of an engine behind her, followed by the unmistakable sound of slammed car doors. She didn't have to turn around to know who it was.
"Caliste!" Lucian's voice cut through the salty air.
She braced herself.
He was walking toward her fast, his sleeves rolled up, hair still wet from a rushed shower, as if he'd only just realized she might actually go.
"Don't do this," he said breathlessly.
She looked at him, eyes unreadable. "Why not?"
"Because…" he paused, mouth open, searching for the right words. Then—nothing.
She folded her arms. "That's what I thought."
"I'm not the guy you want me to be," he muttered, gaze dropping to the dock. "I don't know how to be soft or… emotional. I'm not built for that."
"No one's asking you to recite poetry," she said flatly. "Just honesty would've been nice."
He dragged a hand through his hair. "I've given you everything else. A house. Freedom. Comfort. Isn't that enough?"
Her chest tightened. "You don't get it, do you? I never wanted things. I wanted you."
Lucian looked away, jaw clenched.
And that silence—his favorite weapon—fell between them again.
Then came the sound of footsteps approaching.
"Is there a problem here?" Jace's voice rang out, sharp and unwelcome.
Lucian's head snapped up, irritation flaring. "This doesn't concern you."
"It does when she's standing here alone, waiting for a goodbye you clearly can't give," Jace said, coming to Caliste's side.
Lucian narrowed his eyes. "Of course you're here. Like a shadow."
Jace ignored the jab. "She doesn't need another confusing half-apology. If you don't want her, let her go."
Caliste looked between them, voice barely above a whisper. "Lucian… Just tell me. Is there even a part of you that wants me to stay?"
Lucian opened his mouth. His throat tightened. The words hovered—but never came.
Finally, he looked away.
Jace stepped forward and took her bag gently. "Come on. You've waited long enough."
Lucian's eyes flicked to the bag, to her, to the ramp. His lips parted again—but still, nothing.
Caliste's eyes burned with unshed tears. But she nodded. "Yeah… I guess I have."
Without another word, she turned away from him.
Jace followed her up the yacht's ramp. The engines rumbled to life.
Lucian stood on the dock, fists clenched, heart pounding—but still frozen in place, his pride and fear chaining him down.
As the yacht pulled away, Caliste stood at the railing, watching the island shrink behind her.
She didn't cry.
Not yet.
But she felt the hole where hope used to be.