Page 23 of Caleb

The night before replayed in his mind, every touch, every kiss still vivid. He could still feel the warmth of her skin, hear her laugh, see how her eyes softened when she let her guard down for just a moment.

But now the space she’d filled felt achingly empty.

Caleb stood and pulled on a pair of jeans, his movements sluggish as he tried to make sense of what had happened. He grabbed his phone off the nightstand, scrolling through his recent calls and texts. Nothing from Taylor.

A quiet curse escaped him as he paced the room, his frustration mounting. He didn’t even have her number. How had he let himself get so lost in the moment that he hadn’t thought to ask for a way to reach her?

Grabbing the phone in the hotel room, it shook slightly in his hand as he hit the button for the front desk.

“Good morning, Mr. Burnett. How can I help you?”

“Taylor Montgomery,” he said, his voice rough. “The guest in room—” He stopped, realizing he didn’t know her room number.

There was a pause on the other end, the sound of typing. Caleb held his breath.

“I’m sorry, sir,” the receptionist said finally. “Ms. Montgomery checked out early this morning.”

Checked out.

The words slammed into him like a fist, knocking the air from his lungs.

Had last night meant nothing to her? For her to slip away without a word. The thought cut deeper than he expected, but wasn’t this precisely what he’d done to her all those years ago when he’d walked away in college? The bitter irony twisted deep inside him, heavy and unrelenting.

“Thanks,” he muttered, ending the call before anything else could be said.

He sank onto the edge of the bed. She was gone. Just like that.

The image of her slipping out in the middle of the night, quiet and determined, played in his mind. Had she been in such a hurry to leave? Was she running from him?

Caleb leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his hands gripping his hair. The sharp ache spread, the emotions he tried so hard to bury rising to the surface.

He hadn’t expected her to stay. He’d told himself not to expect anything at all. But a part of him, the part he didn’t like to acknowledge, had hoped for something—something more than silence and an empty room.

The night before had felt like stepping back in time, like they’d found a piece of what they used to be. But now it was clear that whatever they’d shared was fleeting, something she didn’t want to hold onto.

The memory of her calling it a one-night stand clawed at him, leaving a hollow ache in its wake. It had been exactly what he thought he wanted to hear, the perfect arrangement without strings. And yet, in the stark light of morning, it felt different—emptier, lonelier, and all wrong.

His jaw clenched as he stood. He should be angry, but the anger refused to take hold, replaced instead by the familiar weight of regret.

He thought of how she’d kissed him as if she wanted to forget the world outside that room.

He thought of the way she’d left without a word.

It wasn’t that he was looking for forever. Caleb wasn’t delusional enough to think one night could fix everything between them.

But still, a simple “Good morning” would’ve been nice.

Maybe even a casual “I enjoyed last night, how about you?” Something to acknowledge that it had meantsomething—that it wasn’t just a fleeting moment lost to the night.

Instead, all he had was an empty room, a cold bed, and a gnawing sense of uncertainty he couldn’t quite shake.

The frustration bubbled to the surface, and he grabbed the edge of the desk, his knuckles white as he stared at the floor. What had he expected? That one night could undo years of distance, of mistakes and missed chances?

But he hadn’t expected it to hurt like this.

Caleb plopped down, his head in his hands as his thoughts raced. He wanted to tell himself it didn’t matter, that she didn’t matter—not anymore. But the emptiness in his heart told a different story.

She mattered.

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