Caleb stares at me. “Did you know before you left?”
I shake my head. “No. I knew he was engaged with some church—you know he’d always been religious. What I didn’t know was that he was that far gone. Mum struggled too. She didn’t know how bad it would be for us.”
“But clearly she didn’t leave?”
“She’s still there with him. She checked out years ago, but there’s no way she’ll ever leave.”
“I’m so sorry. If I’d known …”
I force a smile. “We were kids, Caleb. Neither of us had any power to do anything.”
His eyes search mine. “I loved you. And I spent years convincing myself that it was all your fault for leaving. But seeing you again? I loved you.”
A sob catches in my throat. For years I fantasised about him sweeping in and rescuing me. But at the same time, I knew we were so young and that it’d never happen. Any hopes I had were dashed once I found out I was expecting Bailey.
I love my girl with all my heart, but my pregnancy with her sealed my fate with Malcolm.
“I loved you too,” I whisper.
There’s so much I’m not sure I can ever tell Caleb—so many feelings still churning inside that left me doubting myself. As time went on, I questioned more and more if what we had was real or if it was just some teenage dream.
Now he’s right in front of me, there’s no doubt in my mind.
I loved this man with all my heart.
And I never got over him.
“So that was the first ten years. What happened after that?”
My throat tightens. I’m not ready to tell this story, but I’m not sure that I have a choice.
“I was sixteen. My parents … My parents threw themselves into the church and that meant marrying me to a man who was much older.”
My throat tightens. I’m free of the marriage that chained me to Malcolm—have been for months, but telling this story doesn’t get any easier.
“What?” Caleb’s gaze is fixed on me—I can feel it. But I can’t look up and meet it because otherwise I’ll cry.
And I have cried more than enough tears over the years.
“I wasn’t left with any choice. And then I was trapped.” I close my eyes. “We lived in the middle of nowhere, and he would threaten to take my children from me.”
“Emma. Look at me.” Caleb’s gentle tone washes over me, and I finally raise my gaze to meet his. “I wish I’d known.”
“We were kids.”
“But I’m sure my parents would have helped. We could have got you out of there.”
I shake my head. “There’s no point in thinking about what we could have done. I thought maybe once we left the church, things might change, but they didn’t. So, I started hiding bits of money where I could, skimming off the top of the grocery money he gave me.”
Caleb’s jaw tics.
“It took years, but I got a small nest egg together. And then he had a massive heart attack. It didn’t fix things, but it humbled him—especially when he was diagnosed with end-stage heart failure.”
He reaches across the table and squeezes my hand.
“It didn’t take long after that. Once he was in palliative care, I knew it was just a matter of time.”
“I’m so sorry, Emma.”
