Chapter 9 - Old promises
2634 Words
On the same day Lily and Leo were out at the park, Caleb was in his new apartment, unpacking boxes.
The living room was half a mess—bubble wrap, folded flaps, and half-unsealed boxes filled with scattered memories. He crouched in front of one labeled “personal” and pulled the lid open, revealing a collection of picture frames wrapped in soft cloth.
One by one, he placed them on the shelf—photos from high school with old teammates, a rare photo of his parents with him as a toddler, and a smiling portrait of his grandfather. His hand slowed as he reached for the last frame at the bottom.
It was a small, worn photo—creased slightly at the corners but still intact.
A much younger Caleb stood barefoot on a grassy bank, holding a crooked fishing rod made of a stick, twine, and a bent paper clip. In his other hand, he proudly held up a tiny fish—barely big enough to qualify as a catch.
Beside him, Lily stood in muddy boots, smiling wide with one hand gripping her own handmade rod and the other holding a red plastic bucket. She wore an oversized hat and a hand-me-down jacket with sleeves too long. The background showed Caleb’s old house near the river, back in Lily’s hometown.
Caleb chuckled softly, tracing the edge of the frame with his thumb.
“That was a good day…” he murmured.
He set the photo gently on the coffee table, staring at it for a few moments longer.
He couldn’t believe how much Lily had grown—how pretty she’d become.
Well, she was always pretty… but now?
“She’s even prettier,” he said under his breath, a half-smile tugging at his lips.
His expression dimmed with something more uncertain.
“I wonder if she even remembers…” he whispered.
---
Lily was ten years old. Caleb had just turned eleven a few months before. The two of them were running through the open meadow just past the edge of the forest—their favorite secret hangout. No other kids knew about the place. It was theirs alone.
To get there, they had to cross a narrow wooden plank over the river, duck under fallen branches, and climb up a small slope. It made it feel like a real adventure every time.
Lily was sitting cross-legged in the tall grass, carefully weaving a flower crown. Her fingers were stained with green and petal dust, her tongue sticking out in concentration. Nearby, Caleb was perched high in a tree, gently returning a baby bird to its nest.
“There you go,” he whispered, peeking inside to check if the mother bird was near.
She wasn’t.
“I wonder where their mom and dad are,” Caleb asked, climbing down expertly like he’d done it a hundred times.
“They’re probably just out looking for food,” Lily replied without looking up.
“But they left them all alone…” Caleb said softly, brushing dirt off his pants as he sat beside her.
Lily paused.
Her fingers stilled on the flower crown, and her gaze flicked toward him.
She suddenly realized what she’d said… and who she’d said it to.
Caleb’s parents had left when he was only two. He never saw them again. His grandfather told him it was for work—traveling jobs, constant moving. He was too young to understand why he wasn’t taken along.
Too young to know what it meant to be left behind.
If it weren’t for the old photographs his grandfather kept, Caleb wasn’t sure he’d even recognize them anymore.
Lily dropped her crown and scooted closer.
She wrapped her arms around him tightly.
“Don’t be sad, Cab,” she said softly. “I’m here.”
Caleb didn’t speak, but the weight in his chest lightened just a little.
And that was the thing—despite not having parents, he’d never truly felt alone.
Because he had Lily.
----
Lily picked up the flower crown she’d just finished and placed it gently on Caleb’s head.
“There! Now you’re officially the Forest Princess,” she giggled, leaning back to admire her work.
Caleb scrunched up his nose. “Princess? I thought I was a knight!”
“Not with those daisy ears,” Lily teased, pointing at the lopsided blooms flopping over his hair.
Both of them burst into laughter, their giggles echoing softly across the meadow.
---
It was starting to get dark, so they decided to head back home. They walked the familiar dirt path side by side, their steps slow and easy—just two kids enjoying the last bit of daylight.
Since they were neighbors, their route was the same.
“So… do you wanna eat at my house?” Lily asked, kicking a pebble down the path. “Grandma’s making her special chicken soup.”
“You bet ya!” Caleb replied with a grin as they neared his porch.
“Hold on, let me tell Grandpa first.”
Caleb bounded up the steps—but stopped short when he noticed the front door slightly ajar. Inside, he heard hushed voices—familiar ones.
He pushed the door open slowly.
There in the living room stood Lily’s mom in her office clothes, and his grandfather’s closest neighbor. Lily’s grandmother sat hunched on the couch, her face buried in her hands. All their expressions were heavy, filled with something Caleb didn’t understand yet—but could feel.
Lily followed behind him and tilted her head in confusion. “Mom? Grandma? What are you doing here?”
Lily’s mom turned slowly, her expression tight and controlled. She looked first at Caleb, then at Lily.
“Caleb…” she said softly. Then, “Lily.”
Lily’s grandmother couldn’t hold it in any longer. She began to sob uncontrollably.
“Mom,” Lily’s mom whispered urgently. “Please. We were supposed to be calm about this.”
“What’s wrong?” Lily asked, her voice trembling. “Mom? Grandma??”
Caleb’s chest tightened. A sinking feeling twisted inside him, cold and sharp.
No… No, not this.
He bolted past them toward his grandpa’s room.
“Please let me be wrong,” he whispered to himself as he reached the door.
He turned the knob with shaking hands.
Inside the bedroom, a doctor, and Lily’s father—stood beside the bed, along with one of their neighbors. And on the bed… lay Caleb’s grandfather. Eyes closed. Still. Too still.
He wasn’t breathing.
“Grandpa!” Caleb cried out, frozen in the doorway.
Lily’s dad took a cautious step toward him. “Caleb…”
Caleb rushed to the bedside and gently shook his grandfather’s arm.
“Grandpa, I’m home. It’s time to wake up now. We have visitors…” he said, forcing a hopeful smile through the panic rising in his throat.
Lily’s dad reached out again. “Caleb—”
“No!” Caleb jerked away from his hand. “He’s just sleeping! He’s always been a heavy sleeper!”
His voice cracked as tears streamed down his face. He looked back at the still figure in the bed—his anchor, his only real family.
“You promised me we’d go fishing tomorrow!” Caleb shouted, pounding his fists softly—twice—on his grandfather’s chest. “You promised…”
His voice broke completely.
Then he collapsed beside the bed, sobbing into the blankets.
Lily rushed in, eyes wide in horror as the truth set in. She covered her mouth as tears slipped down her cheeks.
Without thinking, she dropped to the floor beside him and threw her arms around him.
“I’m here,” she whispered through her tears. “I’m here.”
And she stayed there, holding him tightly… the way he had always held onto her.
---
A gray sky blanketed the small cemetery, as if mourning along with them. The gentle drizzle had stopped just in time, but the damp earth still clung to the soles of every shoe. Mourners gathered around the casket, their umbrellas now folded, their voices hushed.
Caleb stood at the front, dressed in black, his eyes hollow and rimmed red. Lily stood beside him, her small hand gently holding his. She hadn’t let go since the procession started.
People stepped forward one by one, dropping flowers into the open grave—lilies, white roses, and forget-me-nots. A symbol of farewell. A symbol of peace.
Caleb didn’t move.
He barely blinked as the petals scattered over the coffin of the only real parent he had ever known.
---
After the funeral, most people had left. Only a few adults remained in the living room of Caleb’s grandfather’s house—Lily’s family and a couple of concerned neighbors.
“He could stay with us,” Lily’s grandmother offered, her hands folded on her lap. “I’m sure Lily would like that too.”
“No,” one neighbor said, shaking his head. “It’s about time his parents take him back again.”
“I don’t know…” Lily’s mom said, frowning slightly. “I don’t think Caleb’s ready to face them. It’s been almost ten years.”
---
Meanwhile, in the quiet of the back bedroom, Caleb sat on the edge of his grandfather’s bed—his eyes blank, his face swollen and blotchy from crying. He hadn’t said much since the burial.
Lily sat beside him, her hand gently rubbing his back in slow, comforting circles.
“I have no family anymore,” Caleb finally said, his voice low and broken.
“That’s not true, Cab,” Lily said softly, trying to smile through her sadness. “I’m sure when your parents hear about what happened, they’ll come ba—”
“They’re never coming back!” Caleb suddenly snapped, his voice sharp.
Startled, Lily pulled her hand away, hurt flashing briefly in her eyes.
“I’m sorry, Yan,” he said quickly, his voice cracking again. “It’s just… all these years, they’ve never once reappeared. Grandpa kept saying they would. He promised. But now… nothing. I have nothing now—only broken promises.”
Lily stared at him for a moment, then reached up and touched his face, wiping a tear from his cheek.
“Then how about we make a new promise?” she said gently. “Just between us.”
Caleb looked at her, listening closely.
“Let’s be a real family, Cab. Whether your parents come back or not… let’s promise to stay together.”
She held out her pinky.
Caleb hesitated—but then slowly reached out and hooked his pinky with hers.
“Promise,” he whispered.
They sealed it with a hug—tight, warm, and wordless.
A promise made with hearts that knew what it meant to be left behind.
---
In the weeks that followed, Caleb spent most of his time at Lily’s house. He still slept at his grandfather’s, showered there, and kept his room just the way it had always been—but for meals, homework, and almost every spare moment, he was with the Millers.
He didn’t want to leave the house entirely.
After all, more good memories lived there than sad ones.
One afternoon, Caleb was heading home from school, planning to grab a few books before going to Lily’s. But as he approached the house, he noticed two unfamiliar figures standing by the gate—a man and a woman.
As he got closer, the woman gasped and ran toward him.
“Caleb!” she cried, throwing her arms around him.
Caleb froze. Her embrace felt foreign—yet oddly familiar. Slowly, he turned his head toward the man behind her.
That’s when it clicked.
He remembered the photo.
A man, a woman, and a toddler version of himself.
They were his parents.
They had finally come back.
“Caleb,” the woman sobbed, clinging tighter. “We’re so sorry it took us so long to return.”
Caleb stood motionless, overwhelmed. Then the wave of emotion hit. Years of grief, anger, and confusion surged to the surface.
He pushed her away.
“You left me!” he shouted. “You left me alone—and now Grandpa’s dead! What took you so long?!”
“We had a reason, sweetheart,” his mother said, gently tucking a curl behind his ear. Her touch was warm, but her words couldn’t reach him.
“We’re here now to take you back,” the man finally spoke, his tone serious and direct.
Unlike his mother’s softness, his father carried a stern authority.
“What kind of reason justifies abandoning your child?” Caleb cried.
“We didn’t mean to hurt you,” his mom whispered. “We thought it was for the best.”
“We’ll explain everything once we get home,” his dad added.
“Home?” Caleb echoed, confused.
“Our new home,” his mom said quickly. “In the city. We’ve already set up a room for you.”
Caleb’s heart pounded. He felt dizzy.
Strangers—his parents—were suddenly here to take him away from the only home and only people who had truly cared for him.
“We’re leaving now,” his dad said. “Pack a few things. Clothes. Essentials. We’ll buy the rest.”
Caleb hesitated. “What about the Millers?”
“They already know,” his mother assured him. “We spoke with them this morning.”
“And Lily?” he asked desperately.
“She’s still at her friend’s house. They’ll tell her when she gets back.”
“No… I need to tell her myself—” Caleb began, but his father cut in.
“We don’t have time. We’ll miss our flight.”
“Sorry, sweetheart,” his mother said softly. “We’re sure she’ll understand. Just… pack quickly.”
Caleb did as they asked, grabbing only a few changes of clothes and his most treasured framed photos—one of Grandpa, one of his parents, and one of him and Lily by the river.
As he zipped his bag, he glanced out the window, hoping—praying—he’d see Lily.
But she wasn’t there.
He climbed into the car reluctantly, still scanning the road. Still waiting.
Then—finally—he saw her.
Lily had just turned the corner, heading home. She stopped when she saw the unfamiliar car, squinting toward the figure in the backseat.
“CALEB!!!” she screamed, breaking into a sprint.
Caleb twisted in his seat. “Dad, stop the car!”
“We’re already late,” his father said firmly. “We’re not turning back.”
“Yan!” Caleb yelled, cranking down the window. “I’ll keep our promise! Let’s meet again, okay?! I’m sorry!”
Lily’s eyes widened as the car sped away, her small form growing distant in the rearview mirror.
He didn’t know if she heard him.
But he hoped—he needed—her to have heard it.
---
Caleb snapped out of the memory, still staring at the photo in his hands—the one of him and Lily by the river, frozen in a simpler time.
He stood and placed it gently on the shelf near the door—right where she would see it if she ever came.
Reminiscing had made one thing clear.
He didn’t just miss her.
He needed her back.
Caleb picked up his phone, scrolled through his contacts, and stopped at her name.
Lily 🌼
He tapped Call.
The line began to ring.
Once.
Twice.
Three times…
He held his breath.
Then—click.
The call connected.
Caleb opened his mouth to speak.
But before he could say a word—
[TO BE CONTINUED…]
- Writer
