Chapter 92 What You Called Love
Caspian’s words hung in the air.
Stay away from Xiomara. Stay away from her family. Whatever you’re planning, leave them out of it.
Veyra’s hand tightened around the water glass. The flat bubbles left a faint metallic taste on her tongue.
She did not speak. She did not move.
But something shifted behind her eyes.
Three years ago.
She had been twenty‑three. Her grandmother had just died. The old woman had raised her alone after her mother passed. The funeral was small. Three people came. Veyra had paid for the cremation with money she had saved from working double shifts at the coffee shop.
Two weeks later, the Solenne family summoned her. Her father, Peter, sat behind a large desk. Her stepmother, Margaret, stood beside him. Yvette, her half‑sister, leaned against the doorframe, smirking.
“You’re dropping out of school,” Peter said. “We can’t afford to keep you.”
“I have scholarships,” Veyra had said.
“Not enough. You need to work. Full time.”
She had argued. Begged. Cried. It did not matter.
She left the family home that night with a single suitcase and forty‑three dollar in her pocket.
She met Caspian three days later.
He was standing outside the convenience store where she had bought a packet of instant noodles.
“You dropped your receipt,” he said.
She had not dropped anything. But she took the receipt anyway.
He asked her name. She told him. He smiled, that smile had felt like sunlight after weeks of rain.
He paid for her groceries. He drove her home. He listened to her talk about her grandmother, about her mother, about the family that had thrown her away.
For six months, he was everything. He called her every morning. He brought her flowers. He told her she was smart, beautiful, and worthy.
She had believed him.
The memory pressed against her ribs. Sharp. Cold.
She pressed her palm flat on the table. The lizard skin of the glove squeaked against the white cloth.
She forced the images down. The flowers. The car rides. The way he had looked at her like she was the only person in the room.
She lifted her chin.
Her face was calm again. The turmoil stayed buried.
“Caspian,” she said.
He stopped. He had been half‑turned away, ready to walk back to his table.
She looked at him. Straight on.
“Why did you betray me?”
His mouth opened. Closed. He blinked.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
He stared at her. His expression softened. Almost imperceptibly.
“You still care,” he said.
He stepped closer. His hand reached for her shoulder.
She did not pull away. She wanted to see what he would do.
“That day,” he said, “it was a misunderstanding. Xiomara and I—there’s nothing between us. Not really.”
Veyra said nothing.
“She threw herself at me. I was weak. But it didn’t mean anything.”
His fingers pressed into her shoulder. His grip was too firm.
“I’ve never stopped loving you.”
Veyra looked at his hand on her shoulder. Then at his face.
The same face that had smiled at her outside the convenience store. The same face that had lied to her for seven years.
She shook her head.
“You don’t have to argue,” she said. “I’m not asking for an apology.”
Caspian’s brow furrowed.
“Then what are you asking for?”
She tilted her head. Her voice was quiet.
“Did you pursue Xiomara because she was the top‑scoring student in the national college entrance exams? Or because she was Professor Sterling’s protégé?”
Caspian’s hand slipped from her shoulder. His face went pale. Then red. “How do you know about that?”
“I know a lot of things.”
He looked away. His jaw worked. His throat moved as he swallowed.
For a few seconds, he said nothing.
Then his shoulders sagged. He looked at the floor. At the table. At his own shoes.
“Three years ago,” he said, “I did love you. I didn’t look down on you because you dropped out of school. I never cared about that.”
Veyra waited.
“But my family...” He stopped. Started again. “They wouldn’t approve. They said you weren’t good enough. That I was throwing away my future for a girl with no connections, no money, no pedigree.”
His voice dropped.
“I tried to fight them. For a while. But they kept pushing. Kept introducing me to other women. And then Xiomara came along. And she had everything they wanted.”
Veyra studied his face.
The shame. The regret. The way his eyes avoided hers. She did not feel sorry for him.
“You could have told me,” she said. “You could have broken up with me honestly.”
He did not answer.
Caspian pulled out the chair across from her and sat down again.
He leaned forward. His elbows rested on the table.
“You weren’t good enough for my circle,” he said. “I didn’t dare introduce you to my friends. They would have laughed at me.”
Veyra’s fingers curled into a fist beneath the table.
“I was embarrassed,” he continued. “Not of you as a person. But of your background. Your lack of education. Your family.”
She said nothing.
“And then Xiomara appeared. She had everything I needed. The test scores. The connections. The mentorship under Professor Sterling.”
He rubbed his temple.
“I thought she could help my career. Open doors. Make introductions.” He paused. “My plan was to delay our wedding. Just for a while. Until I got what I needed from her.”
Veyra’s jaw tightened.
“But then the accident happened.”
“What accident?”
“The car accident. Three months before the wedding. I was driving home late. A truck hit me. I was in the hospital for two weeks.”
She remembered. He had visited her twice. Both times, he had stayed for less than an hour.
“I almost died,” he said. “And lying there, staring at the ceiling, I realized I couldn’t keep putting things off. I had to make a choice.”
Veyra leaned back in her chair.
“You could have broken up with me.”
“I know.”
“You didn’t.”
“I was scared.”
“Of what?”
“Of losing you.” He looked at her. “Even when I was with Xiomara, I didn’t want to lose you.”
She laughed. A short, bitter sound.
“You wanted both.”
Caspian said nothing.
Veyra leaned forward. Her voice was low.
“If Xiomara was so important to your career, why didn’t you just break up with me? Cleanly. Honestly.”
Caspian’s answer came too fast.
“Because I love you.”
She stared at him.
“You love me.” She repeated the words slowly, tasting them. “You lied to me for seven years. You let my mother die. You let Xiomara lock me in a basement. And you love me.”
“I was trapped.”
“You were greedy.”
She shook her head.
“You wanted me at home, cooking your meals, warming your bed, making you feel like a good man. And you wanted Xiomara out there, opening doors, building your career, making you look successful.”
She pressed her palm flat on the table.
“You wanted to have your cake and eat it too.”
Caspian’s face flushed.
“You don’t understand—”
“I understand perfectly.” Her voice was ice. “You never loved me. You loved what I did for you.”
His hand shot across the table. He grabbed her wrist.
“Listen to me—”
“Let go.”
“Just listen—”
“Let go of my arm.”
His grip tightened. His fingers pressed into the leather of her glove.
Leon Wei stepped forward. Veyra held up her free hand. Stop.
She looked at Caspian. At the desperation in his eyes. At the red flush spreading up his neck.
“You had no other choice?” she asked.
“None.”
She laughed again. Louder this time. A few diners turned to look.
“There is always a choice,” she said. “You chose yourself. Every single time. You chose your comfort. Your reputation. Your money. You never once chose me.”
Caspian’s grip loosened. His hand dropped to the table.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I know it doesn’t matter now. But I’m sorry.”
Veyra looked at him. At the man who had been her entire world. At the man who had destroyed her.
“Sorry isn’t enough.”
“What do you want from me?”
“Nothing.” She stood up. “I want nothing from you.”
Caspian stood too. His chair scraped against the floor.
“Why are you forcing me like this?” His voice was hoarse. Almost pleading. “Why can’t you just—”
“Just what?”
“Just understand.”
She picked up her water glass. She set it down again. The ice had melted completely.
“I understand everything,” she said. “That’s the problem.”
She turned away.
Behind her, Caspian’s voice cracked.
“Why are you forcing me like this?”