Chapter 2: Playing Both Sides

“Do you have a reservation?” The hotel receptionist looked at me, polite but distant.

I’d renovated my apartment, but the paint smell was too much, so I moved into a penthouse suite at one of Caleb’s hotels for a while.

“Yes.” I handed over my booking. She glanced at the name, hesitated, then said, “One moment, please. I’ll make a call.”

The grand lobby, with its high ceiling and soft lights, made me feel exposed—nowhere to hide.

“Mrs. Whitaker, here’s your room key. The elevator’s to your left.”

The elevator doors opened onto the top floor, and I was hit with the scent of tropical plants—lush and green.

I’d barely set down my luggage when Ethan called.

“My mom made soup for you. Want me to bring it over? Are you home?”

“I’m at the Harborview. Just have someone drop it off.”

“What are you doing there?” He paused. “Did you have a fight with him?”

I hung up, not in the mood, and started browsing Amazon on my phone.

I’d just finished shopping when the doorbell rang. Ethan showed up with a thermos, waving it at me. I took it, thanked him, and tried to shut the door. He blocked it with his hand. “Finish it while I’m here and hand me the thermos back.”

“You’re that free?”

“Can’t I come in?” He grinned. “What are you afraid of?”

The suite was huge. I sipped the chicken soup at the dining table while he lounged on the sofa, flipping through a book.

“The Simmons family’s eldest daughter is really into Caleb.”

I didn’t answer.

“Think he’ll invite you to the wedding?”

I finished the soup, screwed the lid on tight. “Here, take it. Thanks.”

He stood but didn’t reach for it. “Why avoid the topic?”

“Ethan, no matter what, you’re still the one who loses to him.” I was good at getting under people’s skin, no matter the place.

“He doesn’t want the Lin family’s help, but I do,” he said. “It’s just an alliance. We’re all Whitakers. Wouldn’t I be just as good for you? I can give you more than he ever did.”

“Do you know why the Lin family helped him?”

“Your grandpa thinks he’s more capable than me? Only because he’s older. But now—”

“Because I like him.” I looked him straight in the face. “I’m the only daughter of the Lin family. If I didn’t want to, what could the Whitakers do?”

I was the one who took the risk. At his mother’s funeral, I picked Caleb—the one nobody wanted. What the Whitaker family denied him, I gave. They didn’t want him. But I did.

The doorbell rang again. When I opened it, Caleb was standing there, his face complicated. We hadn’t seen each other since that night.

“I thought I’d made myself clear,” he said, voice steady but cold.

“Caleb…”

“Did you think the hotel didn’t have cameras? Booking the suite under my name? Or did you do it on purpose, knowing I’d always give in to you?” He stepped inside, trying to close the door behind him. But when he spotted Ethan, he froze.

“Sorry.” He stood there a second, then backed out and slammed the door. Inside, the air felt icy. Ethan barely breathed.

“He…” Ethan finally managed, “Why did he apologize to me?” Because he always caved when it came to me.

I set the thermos down on the table. I kept pushing Caleb’s buttons, never stopping to think what would happen if he ever remembered it all. Being mocked and toyed with was the one thing he couldn’t take.

The chicken soup tasted weird. That night, I started shivering, my stomach aching. An old problem—my appetite always disappears when I’m upset.

I bought some stomach medicine, but the hotel said no takeout upstairs. I wrapped up in my coat and went down to get it. The wind stung my eyes, and I sat in the lobby for a while, fighting off sleep.

“Why are you sleeping here?” I blinked up, barely seeing Caleb’s handsome face. The scratch on his jaw had finally faded, not a mark left.

“Waiting for you to pick me up.” I reached out, wanting him to carry me. There seemed to be a crowd behind him—he must’ve just finished a meeting, always busy.

He covered my mouth, making sure I wouldn’t blurt out anything embarrassing in front of everyone, so no one would see how he really felt about me. “I’ll have someone take you upstairs.”

I leaned into his arm, letting him carry me. His chest was hard, but somewhere deep down, his heart was warm and beating. Why couldn’t I ever get close enough to feel it?

He carried me upstairs. In the elevator, half-asleep, I leaned against his neck and poked at his collarbone. “Huh, the mark’s still there.”

“Say another word and I’ll put you down.” Caleb always smelled warm and clean—like fresh laundry.

He opened the door and set me gently on the bed. “Caleb, I’m thirsty.” He ignored me, stepped back, and sat down on the sofa at the foot of the bed, loosening his tie.

He stared at the bed, lost in thought. I could see it on his face—he couldn’t help picturing what might’ve happened here earlier. What I might’ve done with Ethan.

“Caleb, I’m in pain.”

“Pain?” He knelt on the bed, grabbed my wrist, and pinned it to the white pillowcase, his anger simmering just under the surface.

“You call him when you’re happy, but think of me when you’re hurting?”

I turned away, not even bothering to fight. He was too strong.

“He’s innocent and can’t be hurt, but I’m fake and it doesn’t matter?” He grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him. “You can feel pain?”

Tears welled up in my eyes as I looked at him, feeling hurt. “I didn’t. He just brought me soup, and after I ate it my stomach hurt.”

He saw my tears and let go. After a while, he said, “You don’t have to explain. I have no right.”

“Don’t be mad, okay?” I grabbed his hand. “My stomach really hurts.” He kept his face cold, but didn’t pull away.

He tucked my hand into the warm covers, then gave my cheek a gentle, scolding pat. “You’ll eat anything anyone gives you? Don’t you know better?”

“Is the Simmons family’s daughter pretty?”

“What?”

“They said you went on a date.”

“No, I turned it down,” he said, pulling a tissue and carefully wiping away my tears. “That was the day we went back to the old house.” He paused. “The shrimp was good? Ate too much and got a stomachache?”

“Yeah, my bad.” I snuggled closer to his arm. “Caleb, my stomach hurts. Will you rub it for me?”

He turned my face toward his, peering at me through those silver-rimmed glasses, his eyes finally softening, like ice melting in the sun. “Who is your husband, really?” My heart skipped a beat. Suddenly, I was wide awake.

“I checked—Ethan isn’t married and doesn’t have a girlfriend,” he said, sitting up straighter. “You lied again.” He’d lost his memory, not his mind. Besides, I never planned to keep up such an obvious lie for long.

“If you could go to the old house, but you’re not his, there’s only one possibility,” his eyes went dark. He pulled off his tie, finally revealing his collarbone. “You’re mine.” He smiled, gentle but with an edge. “Savannah Lin, care to explain?”

A crack split open in his memory. The past spilled out, bright and scattered, until it all came together—the face in front of him.

“Technically, ex-wife,” I corrected. “We’re divorced.”

Caleb had someone make porridge and sat there watching me eat every bite. He wasn’t angry. He was so calm, it actually scared me.

He took a tissue and gently wiped the corner of my mouth. “Subordinate’s wife. Coveted, threatened, forced to give in?”

“I was wrong.”

He smiled. “You’re getting bold.” Then he left.

I was done for. No way to fix this mess.

His hand paused on the doorknob. “Savannah, move your things back.”