‘It was passable,’ she said, her mouth still twitching with mirth at the memory of it.
In truth, it had been terrible. The one time he’d cooked for her, when she’d gone over to his place to study for an exam, she’d pulled such a face after the first mouthful that Caleb had scraped the lot into the bin and called for takeout pizza instead.
‘Well, like I said earlier, you don’t have to stay here with me; I’ll be fine,’ he said, sitting down carefully on the sofa and wincing a little as his rib appeared to give him trouble.
She folded her arms. ‘Like I said, there’s no way I’m leaving you alone.’
She’d always stood up to him like this, refusing to be intimidated by his gruff demeanour, but deep down his dominating personality had twisted her into knots, threatening her carefully constructed cool.
Fifteen years ago he’d made her question everything she’d thought she wanted in a man. He was bold and charismatic, but he also seemed exactly the sort to smash her heart to pieces should things go wrong between them. At the time she wasn’t prepared to put herself in danger of that happening, not after working so hard to get into her first choice of university and make her first move towards the kind of life she’d always dreamed of building for herself.
But she hadn’t been able to stay away from him.
Struggling to keep her feelings under control, she’d found the safest thing had been to pretend that they didn’t exist. It had been the only way to protect herself.
Except that somewhere along the line that had stopped working.
* * *
Caleb could sense that Elena wasn’t altogether comfortable being here in his apartment with him and he wondered again what it was she wasn’t telling him.
‘If you’re worried about where you’re going to sleep, you’re welcome to take one of the guest rooms.’ He pointed towards a door that led to the corridor of four bedrooms.
‘Okay, thank you,’ she said a little distractedly.
‘Is there somewhere else you need to be today?’ he asked, concerned now that he was keeping her from something important. The last thing he wanted was to be a burden to her.
‘No, nowhere,’ she answered, coming to sit down on an armchair opposite where he sat, finally giving him her full attention.
A sense of relief took him by surprise. He was still feeling pretty woozy and disorientated and it was soothing to know she’d be staying there with him for a while. Even if she did feel like a total stranger to him at the moment.
‘So, friend, I guess I need to get to know you all over again. Do you have a partner? Husband? Boyfriend in England?’ he asked.
She recoiled a little, as if the question had caught her by surprise. ‘Not at the moment. I’ve been too busy recently with work to hold down a serious relationship.’
‘When you say recently—?’
She flashed him a self-conscious smile. ‘For the last few years.’
‘You haven’t had a serious relationship for a few years?’
She shrugged as she smoothed her hands down the sides of her skirt. ‘I’ve dated, but I’ve not clicked with anyone.’
‘I find that hard to believe.’
The air between them seemed to throb with tension and she gave him a strained smile, then glanced away.
He was making her uncomfortable. But why?
‘Elena?’
She looked back at him, her expression now impassive, as if she’d pulled a mask back into place. ‘Do you mind if I make myself a drink?’ she said suddenly, slapping her hands onto her knees. ‘I’m dying for a cup of tea.’
He frowned at the sudden change of subject but didn’t press her on the reason for it. Perhaps she was just tired after the stress and strain of the day. He was pretty tired himself now, even though he’d slept for a lot of it. ‘Sure, help yourself,’ he said.
She got up and walked over to the kitchen. ‘Would you like one?’ she asked, reaching for the kettle on the work surface.
‘No, thanks.’ He sat forward in his seat. ‘I should take a shower.’ He sniffed at his shirt, inhaling the institutional smell of stringent cleaning fluid and decay and, just like that, a memory flew to the front of his mind and he knew why he’d wanted to get out of that hospital so quickly.
His anguish must have shown on his face because Elena said, ‘Caleb? Is everything okay? Did you remember something?’ her voice sounding breathy with concern.
‘Just why I wanted to leave the hospital. My mother died about six months ago and I spent an awful lot of time visiting her in one.’
The expression on her face changed from worry to one of sympathy. ‘Your PA told me. I’m so sorry for your loss,’ she said, her bright blue eyes soft with compassion.
He nodded, accepting her condolences, and ran a hand over his face, feeling stubble rasp at his palm.
There was something more to the memory of losing his mother but he couldn’t put his finger on what it was. Some kind of underlying emotion bubbling under the surface, not quite clear enough for him to fully grasp.
‘I don’t seem to be able to remember a lot about her at the moment. I know the time I spent with her at the end of her life was...difficult...but I’m not entirely sure why.’
Elena folded her arms and leant against the counter top. ‘From what you’ve told me about her, I don’t think you were particularly close, at least not when you were younger. You were keen to move away from the place where you grew up and she didn’t want you to.’
She looked at him, as if expecting this to jog his memory, but nothing new came to him.
Sadness swelled in his chest.
What was wrong with him? Why was he getting maudlin all of a sudden? Perhaps the trauma to his head was somehow affecting his emotional state. That had to be it. He knew it wasn’t his usual way to discuss how he was feeling with anyone, particularly not a woman. It was one of the things that had contributed to destroying his relationship with his ex-fiancée. Her constant need to try and get into his head and fix him had caused him to feel both hounded and suffocated.
There was something about Elena that invited confidences though.
But what was it?
A half-formed answer flitted around the edges of his mind, just out of reach, and he pushed an unnerving resurgence of panic away, telling himself there was no point in trying to force his memory to come back; it would reappear in its own good time. Perhaps after he’d had a good night’s sleep in his own bed.
He stood up carefully, relieved to find his dizziness had subsided, and started to make his way towards the door to the corridor that led through to his bedroom and en suite bathroom.
‘Where are you going?’ Elena asked, dashing out of the kitchen to intercept him.
He bristled at her bossy tone. ‘I told you, I need a shower.’
‘Not on your own. What if you get dizzy and fall?’
‘Are you offering to join me?’ he asked with a teasing smile, feeling his pulse pick up at the thought of it.
She visibly tensed, then shot him a cool, reproving smile. ‘I’ll wait in your bedroom, just in case you need me,’ she said, turning on the spot and striding away from him, her body language looking a little stiff and awkward now.
He wanted to call after her that he wouldn’t need her, that he didn’t need anybody, that he was fine on his own. But he had