Caleb slipped his phone back into his pocket.
The smile was still lingering on his face.
But the moment he turned around, his plan to take a piss hit a wall.
He looked down.
"…Seriously?"
Still standing. Rock hard.
Been like that for a while now.
And he knew exactly why.
"Damn it, Lucy…" he muttered—half annoyed, half resigned.
He unzipped his pants with a lazy motion, trying his best to ignore the fact that the woman who got him like this just said he reminded her of his mother.
Damn.
"She looked even hotter after saying she was fell in love with my mom," he whispered as he finally started to pee.
The stream came.
His head rested against the wall, and he took a deep breath.
When he finished, he cleaned up and walked over to the sink.
Washed his hands.
Then looked into the mirror.
His face was half-wet. Breathing steadier now.
He splashed some more water.
Cold.
It hit him for a moment.
When he looked up again, his face looked calmer. But his thoughts weren't.
"I'm curious," he muttered quietly.
"What excuse is Lucy gonna give… to hide the fact she's in love with my mom?"
His eyes narrowed.
"And… how the hell did she even know my mom in the first place?"
There was still a lot he didn't know.
----
Lucy slowly wiped the counter, even though there wasn't a speck of dust.
Her hand moved on autopilot.
Her mind? Nowhere near.
He was fragile now…
It was obvious earlier—from the way he walked, the way he lowered his head.
His face might've looked calm, but I saw his eyes.
There was still a light in them.
The same look you had when you faced ruin, Melisa.
She set the cloth down.
Stared at the vase of daisies on the counter.
Caleb…
Even if Melisa rejected my love… I still love her. To this day. That hasn't changed.
And he—he's her son.
A son who can't fall into Luna's hands.
Lucy opened the cash drawer—just to close it again.
Damn it, Luna's a toxin.
What she has isn't love. It's obsession. A sickness.
And Caleb… he can still be saved.
As long as he doesn't sink any deeper.
She took a breath and sipped her tea—it was almost cold.
Sarah's family…
Too powerful.
They could fold anyone like origami paper.
One wrong move, and I'm done.
Mona too…
I can't hate that girl.
She's not the enemy.
Just… naive. Desperate.
Her hand moved again, fixing the ribbon on one of the display bouquets.
Slow. Focused.
But it was clear—she just needed something to keep her busy.
Damn it… I hate this kind of situation.
Can't help anyone. Just standing here, watching everything fall apart.
She stared at the bathroom door.
Her gaze turned sharp.
Colder than usual.
No! If Melisa never let me help her back then… Then Caleb—I have to help him. Whether he wants it or not.
At least one of you deserves my help.
No more lacking.
No more ruin.
That's… a promise.
And right then, the bathroom door opened.
Click.
Caleb walked out.
Hat back over his hair.
Mask in place.
His steps casual.
As if he wasn't carrying the ghost of the only woman she ever loved.