The question was blunt, dropped onto the table without any padding. Caleb put his fork down. He didn't flinch. He appreciated the lack of pity in her voice. Maya's mother wanted a different life, Caleb said.
His voice was steady, practiced. She wanted to travel. She wanted freedom. We had Maya young. I wanted to build a home.
She wanted to see the world. When Maya was two, she packed a bag. She sends a postcard on birthdays. That's about it. Caroline took a slow sip of her wine.
Does it make you bitter? It makes me tired. Caleb corrected. Bitterness is a waste of energy. I have to put food on the table.
I don't have time to be angry at ghosts. Survival? Caroline nodded, her eyes darkening slightly. What about you? Caleb asked, pushing his plate forward.
You said you built the company with your husband. What happened? Caroline's posture shifted just a fraction of an inch, but Caleb noticed. The CEO armor slipped back on, cold and rigid. "A drunk driver," she said.
Her voice was entirely devoid of emotion. It was a fact, a data point. A Tuesday afternoon, he was driving one of our first freight trucks back from a route. A kid in a sedan crossed the center line, killed them both. Caleb felt the air leave his lungs.
Caroline, I'm sorry. Don't be. It was a long time ago. She looked down at her wine glass, watching the red liquid catch the light. After he died, I had two choices.
I could collapse or I could work. I chose to work. I took the one truck we had left and I turned it into 10, then a hundred, then a fleet. I built an empire because I didn't know how to do anything else with the grief. She looked up at Caleb.
The vulnerability in her eyes was startling. It was raw, bleeding through the cracks of a very expensive facade. The problem is, Caroline whispered, "When you build a fortress to keep the pain out, you eventually realize you've locked yourself inside. I have money. I have power.
I have absolutely nothing else. Caleb reached across the table. He didn't think about it. He just moved. He placed his rough, scarred hand over hers.
Her skin was cool. Her fingers twitched, surprised by the contact, but she didn't pull away. "You're not locked in," Caleb said quietly. "You're sitting here." Caroline looked down at their hands.