Threads Of Healing

Chapter 4: “The Weight Of Silence”

CALEB’S POV

I didn’t let go of her arm until we reached the back of the hospital.

I stared at her, still trying to process it. Of all the people in the world, this woman had to be his daughter.

She chuckled softly, raising her hand in surrender. “I promise, I didn’t expect this either.”

I stayed silent, letting the weight of my gaze convey my disappointment.

“So,” she said with a smirk, “you work as a caretaker?That’s good. I could use one at home. Want me to hire you?”

“Agatha.”

“Hm? What is it?”

I stepped closer, lowering my voice. “I’m not about to quit my job just because you’re here. Let’s keep this simple—pretend we don’t know each other.”

“I don’t want to,” she said nonchalantly, lighting a cigarette.

“What are you doing? Smoking is prohibited here.”

I reached for her cigarette, but she flicked it away before I could grab it. “Relax, Mr. Caretaker,” she said with a grin.

I decided I’d had enough and turned to leave without another word. She didn’t follow me. Instead, she stayed there, standing quietly in the shadows.

Back inside the hospital, I spotted Charlotte chatting with some patients. One of them noticed me and grinned. “Ms. Charlotte, there’s your boyfriend!”

Charlotte’s face turned crimson as she quickly waved them off. “He’s not my boyfriend!”

The patients burst out laughing, and I couldn't help but c***k a small smile.

“Can I see Mr. Claire again?” I asked Charlotte once things settled down.

She nodded. “He’s taking a break in his room. If Ms. Agatha, his daughter, goes in, you can join her if you want.”

“Oh, no thanks.”

She glanced at me repeatedly, fidgeting. I could tell she wanted to say something.

“Just say it,” I told her, sitting down beside her.

“Oh, it’s nothing serious. I was just wondering… Since you’re working here now, do you want to grab dinner tonight? It’s just for closure. No strings attached.”

I thought for a moment before nodding. “I don’t have plans tonight, so sure.”

She immediately called over her friends to share the news. They turned their attention to me, their faces lighting up.

“You’re so handsome!” one of them gushed. “I’m Abby.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Jeremiah.”

“Hellooo, I’m Finn,” another chimed in.

Their enthusiasm was contagious. I found myself smiling more than I had in a long time. For the first time since starting this job, I thought, Maybe things will be okay.

“It’s nice to meet all of you,” I said.

Time flew as we talked and laughed together. The sound of footsteps caught my attention, and I looked up to see Agatha entering the hospital. She glanced my way but didn’t stop, heading straight upstairs—probably to see her father.

“Damn, Ms. Agatha’s gorgeous,” Jeremiah muttered, looking at me for a reaction.

“What? I don’t think so,” I said quickly, staring at the floor.

“She doesn’t look as healthy as before,” Abby commented thoughtfully.

“Probably worried about her father,” Jeremiah speculated. “Maybe she’s been neglecting herself.”

Our conversation was interrupted when a patient suddenly approached us, tears streaming down her face.

“What happened?” Charlotte asked, concern evident in her tone.

“Jay said he doesn’t love me!” the patient wailed.

“Oh,” Finn muttered, trying not to laugh. Abby smacked his arm.

“That’s why you’re crying?” Charlotte asked gently, patting the patient’s back in an attempt to console her.

The day slipped by, and before I knew it, dawn had arrived. We gathered outside the hospital, ready to head out for dinner. We decided on a fancy restaurant, one I had never been to before. It was a first for me.

As we settled into our seats, we started chatting while eating. The atmosphere was light, and everything seemed fine. Abby, however, was quietly engrossed in her phone, as she often was. She didn’t talk much, but the sound coming from her phone caught my attention—it was oddly familiar.

Fynn leaned over to glance at her screen. "Woah. She’s gorgeous. Who is she?" he asked.

Abby glanced up briefly and replied, "She’s a famous singer. The one who sang 'About You.' Do you know that song?"

Fynn furrowed his brows. "What’s her name?"

"Brianna Brielle. Isn’t she pretty?" Abby said, her tone casual.

At that moment, I nearly choked on the soup I was sipping. Startled, I coughed, unable to hide my reaction.

“Are you okay?” Charlotte asked, quickly handing me a tissue.

I nodded, brushing it off, but curiosity got the better of me. “Can I see the video?” I asked Abby.

“Yeah, sure,” she said, handing me her phone.

The video was a live stream. Brianna was promoting her new song, her radiant smile lighting up the screen. Thousands of viewers flooded the chat with praise for her.

I couldn’t help but smile. She was finally achieving the dream she’d always talked about. My heart ached as I watched her, but it wasn’t anger I felt—it was bittersweet pride. Seeing her so happy, so full of life, brought a wave of emotions I wasn’t prepared for.

Hours later, we went home. Despite the lighthearted dinner, a sense of heaviness clung to me. Maybe it was because I’d seen Brielle again. Not out of anger, but because it had stirred up memories I thought I had buried long ago.

Back at my apartment, I sank to the floor, staring at the ceiling. I couldn’t stop thinking about her. Everything I’d tried so hard to forget came rushing back: our first conversation at the library, the way she kissed me after the basketball championship, the night we spent together under the stars at the beach. I even remembered her promise—that I’d be the first person she’d run to after winning a Grammy.

But now? That promise felt like a distant, unreachable dream.

“If only,” I whispered to myself. “If only I had stopped her.”

Even though I didn’t feel like crying, a tear escaped down my cheek. I wiped it away quickly, as if denying its existence would stop the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm me. I stayed there, unmoving, lost in the memories, staring blankly at the ceiling, as the ache in my chest quietly lingered.

I hadn’t even realized I’d fallen asleep until my alarm clock jolted me awake. The sunlight filtered through my window as I got up and prepared for the day, just like always.

On my way to the hospital, a car pulled up beside me. It was Agatha again.

"Hop in!" she shouted with a wide grin.

I ignored her and kept walking, but she started honking non-stop. The noise was maddening.

Turning back with an annoyed glare, I saw her smiling mischievously. I walked over and leaned on her car window.

"I’m guessing bulldozing your way like this usually works for you," I said, my tone firm. "But it won’t work on me."

Her smile widened. "Oh, so you’re going to play hard to get? This is going to be fun. Let’s see who wins."

I stared at her, unamused.

She raised her hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright, I get it. You’re serious. I’ll leave you alone—for today."

With that, she drove off. I stood there for a moment, hoping she’d keep her word.

When I arrived at the hospital, the first thing I noticed was a patient sitting on a bench, crying. As I approached, I realized it was the same woman from yesterday.

"Are you okay?" I asked gently.

"No," she replied, wiping her tears. "Jay still won’t talk to me."

"Is there something between you and Jay? Because if there isn’t, you can’t force your feelings on him."

She hesitated. "He’s my boyfriend. But... I don’t understand him. He says he loves me, then turns around and says we’re not meant to be. And after that, he’ll act all sweet again."

"Really? Where is he now? I’ll talk to him."

She pointed toward a room. "He’s in there."

The sky darkened suddenly, and thunder rumbled in the distance.

"It’s going to rain," I said. "Let’s head inside."

She nodded and followed me to Jay’s room. I knocked, and the door creaked open. Jay stood there, his expression unreadable.

"What do you want, Mr. Caregiver?" he asked curtly.

"So, you’re Jay?"

"I am. And you must be Charlotte’s boyfriend."

I chuckled. "Is that your idea of a joke?"

He didn’t respond, just sat on the floor silently.

"Do you know Julia?" I asked, watching his reaction.

He stammered, "I-I do."

"She wants to talk to you, but you keep ignoring her. She’s hurting."

"I don’t love her anymore," he said suddenly.

"What?"

"I said I don’t love her anymore!" he shouted.

"Alright, calm down. If that’s the case, then tell her to her face. Stop giving her mixed signals. Don’t act sweet one moment and distant the next. If you’re not serious about her, you need to say so clearly."

He stood abruptly and stormed out of the room.

It was pouring outside. I chased after him, shouting, "Jay, you can’t keep doing this to her!"

"What are you talking about?!" he yelled, spinning around to face me.

"Stop giving someone mixed signals and false hope!" I snapped. "If you’re not ready for a commitment, say it to her face. Don’t make her suffer like this!"

He started breathing heavily, his fists clenched. Then, to my shock, he bit my hand to break free. I winced, letting go, and he bolted into the rain.

"Hey!" I shouted, chasing after him. Other caretakers joined in, but he was too fast.

We were soaked by the time I caught up to him. Grabbing his arm tightly, I prepared for him to resist, but he didn’t. Instead, he tackled me to the ground.

Pinned beneath him, I felt the sting of his hands slapping my face repeatedly. "I said I don’t want to! I said I don’t want to!" he screamed over and over.

Nurses arrived just in time, restraining him and injecting a tranquilizer. He finally went limp.

"Are you okay?" Charlotte asked, her voice trembling.

"Leave me alone," I muttered, still lying on the wet ground.

"W-what?"

"I said leave me alone!" I shouted, glaring at her. She stepped back, startled, then turned and walked away.

The rain poured on, but I didn’t move. Blood dripped from my nose and mouth, and my vision blurred.

Then, through the haze, I saw a figure in a white dress. My vision cleared, and I recognized her—Agatha. She extended a hand to me.

I stared at her for a moment, then took her hand. She pulled me to my feet.

"I guess taking care of a patient like that isn’t easy," she said softly.

I felt something inside me breaking. A deep sadness. I didn’t want to cry, but I couldn’t hold back the emptiness.

"Are you okay?" she asked softly.

I didn’t answer—I couldn’t even bring myself to look at her.

Without another word, she stepped closer, gently pulling me into her arms. Her hands wrapped around me, and she began patting my back in quiet reassurance.