Fake Husband, Real Affair

Chapter 10

Seeing I wasn't saying anything, Caleb stepped closer and gently took my hand.

"Can you just give me a chance?" he said softly. "Stop shutting me out."

His nearness made my breath hitch. I quickly pulled my hand back and flagged down the first cab I could find. I didn't even glance back at him as I got in, I couldn't.

After graduating a few years ago, I'd returned to university. Lately, I'd practically been living in the library, trying to cram four years of missed knowledge into a few short weeks.

And ever since that day, Caleb showed up at my building every single morning. He never missed a day. I never accepted a ride. I'd hail a taxi instead, and without fail, his sleek black car would trail quietly behind me all the way to campus. Every night, his friend request popped up on my phone, always from the same account, always ignored. I told myself we'd just remain numbers in each other's contact list. Nothing more.

Then one morning, I overslept. My alarm hadn't gone off, but a phone call jolted me awake. It was Mr. Lambert, the security guard.

"There's a drunk man at the entrance," he said. "He's been here all morning, yelling your name. He says you're his wife, and… he's bleeding. I think he cut himself. I didn't know what else to do but call you."

Heart pounding, I rushed downstairs. And there he was, Sean. Dressed in an expensive shirt, but his hair was a mess, his sleeves pushed up, and both arms covered in fresh, bleeding cuts. Some of the wounds looked like they'd reopened after already healing. He reeked of alcohol.

"Krystal," he slurred, stumbling toward me, "I can't live without you. I've been losing my mind. Look at me, look what I did to myself. I was trying to stop thinking about you. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

"Please… just come back. I'll give everything back, the house, the money, I don't care. I just want you."

He grabbed my wrist and tried to pull me toward a waiting taxi. Mr. Lambert stepped in, but Sean's strength was erratic and fueled by alcohol. He shoved Mr. Lambert aside like he was nothing.

"Sean, what are you doing?! Let go!" I cried, panic rising.

Mr. Lambert tried again to help, but Sean suddenly kicked him hard in the stomach.

"Get lost!" Sean shouted as Mr. Lambert hit the pavement with a groan.

My heart was racing. I didn't know what to do.

Then, the roar of an engine tore through the street, and a familiar black Maybach screeched to a halt in front of us.

Caleb jumped out without hesitation, grabbed Sean by the collar, and slammed him to the ground like it was second nature.

"You okay?" Caleb asked, eyes scanning me quickly.

I nodded, still shaken. "Yeah… I'm okay."

He helped Mr. Lambert up immediately, pulling out his phone to call an ambulance.

Sean staggered to his feet, blood still dripping down his arms.

"So you're the kept man trying to steal my wife?" he spat at Caleb, venom in his voice. "You think this ends here? I'll kill you! She's mine!"

In a flash, he pulled out a knife and lunged, straight for Caleb's back.

But just then, two police officers arrived on the scene. They tackled Sean to the ground just in time, knocking the weapon from his hand.

Still, Caleb stumbled forward, clutching his side, his face contorted in pain. He collapsed into my arms, gasping.

The ambulance arrived soon after. Caleb passed out from the pain before they could even load him into the stretcher.

The surgery went well, and his injuries weren't life-threatening. Hours later, I sat by his bedside, quietly peeling an apple, the sound of the knife slicing through skin steadying my nerves.

Then, out of nowhere, Caleb's voice broke the silence.

"If being in the hospital means I get to see you every day…" His voice was raspy but warm. "Then maybe I wouldn't mind staying here forever."