Chapter Six -A quite distance
Morning sunlight spread across the small town like a soft whisper. It warmed the rooftops, slid across the windows, and reached Elena's porch with gentle persistence, as though inviting her to step into a new day she wasn't sure she was ready for. The sea was calm again, almost shy after its violent uproar, and the world smelled of wet earth and salt.
Elena stood by the kitchen counter with a cup of tea warming her hands. It felt strange how normal everything looked after a night that had shaken something loose inside her. Her house was quiet. Too quiet. She found herself listening for a knock that didn't come.
Caleb had left the evening before with a reluctance he didn't say out loud. His absence now filled the room in a way his presence never had. She hated that she noticed it, hated that a part of her kept replaying the look in his eyes when he said he should go.
She wasn't ready for hope. Hope felt dangerous.
Still, she walked to the window as if she might see him on the path. She didn't.
Eventually she forced herself to go into town. The roads glistened with puddles and the sky was a soft blue brushed with lingering clouds. People were already outside cleaning up debris, repairing fences, and sweeping fallen branches from their porches.
Margaret was standing outside her café, rearranging the chairs she had brought in during the storm. She looked up when she saw Elena walking toward her.
"Well, look at you," she said warmly. "I thought the storm might've scared you back to the city."
"Not yet," Elena replied with a small smile.
Margaret studied her face for a moment. "You look tired, honey."
"Long night," Elena said quietly.
Margaret nodded as if she understood more than she let on. "Caleb stopped by early this morning. Said he'd probably check on the northern docks after lunch. If you're looking for him."
Elena blinked, her heart catching in her chest. "I wasn't looking for him."
Margaret smiled like someone who had heard that denial from too many women over too many years. "Of course you weren't."
Elena left the café feeling exposed in a way she hadn't expected. She walked through the market square trying to steady her breathing. She had come here to escape, not to fall into conversations that made her heart race.
Still, when she got home, her feet carried her toward the cliffs almost without thinking.
The wind tugged gently at her sweater as she reached the overlook. Below, the sea shimmered like a sheet of glass. She didn't expect Caleb to be there.
But he was.
He stood by the railing, looking out at the water as though searching for answers in the waves. The sunlight made the edges of him glow, outlining the broad lines of his shoulders and the quiet strength he carried.
When he heard her footsteps, he turned.
For a moment, neither spoke. The space between them felt fragile, as if one wrong word could break it.
Finally he said, "You're up early."
"So are you," she replied softly.
He nodded. "I wanted to see the water after last night."
"Is it always like this?" she asked. "So calm after being so wild?"
He looked back at the sea. "Storms burn themselves out. The world always tries to settle afterward."
Elena stood beside him, the breeze brushing her cheeks. "Thank you for last night. For coming. For staying."
He didn't look at her, but she saw his jaw tighten just slightly. "I wasn't sure if I should have stayed."
"I'm glad you did," she said before she could stop herself.
Caleb finally turned toward her. There was something careful in his eyes, something that made her chest ache. "Elena," he said softly, "I don't want to push you into anything you're not ready for."
The words struck her harder than she expected. She took a slow breath. "I'm not asking you to."
"I just… don't want to be another weight on your shoulders."
"You're not," she whispered.
He searched her face for truth, and she let him see it. She didn't hide.
A gull cried overhead, breaking the moment. Caleb turned away first, clearing his throat. "I should get to the docks."
Elena nodded even though her heart wanted to pull him back. "Be careful."
He smiled faintly. "Always am."
She watched him walk away, each step steady and familiar. She didn't know why it hurt to watch him leave, but it did.
---
The rest of the day passed in unsettling quiet. Elena spent hours painting by the window, but her hand refused to capture anything with confidence. She kept thinking about the storm, the firelight, the way their hands had almost touched.
Why did it feel like something inside her was shifting again? Why did every memory of Caleb feel so dangerously alive?
That night, unable to sleep, she stepped onto her porch. The moonlight wrapped the world in silver, the air cool and soft. The ocean hummed in the distance like a lullaby.
She closed her eyes, breathing it in.
But then she heard footsteps approaching along the gravel path.
Her heart thudded once, hard.
She opened her eyes.
Caleb stood at the bottom of the porch steps, hands in his pockets, breath rising in faint clouds. He looked as though he hadn't planned on coming but couldn't stop himself.
"Elena," he said quietly, "we need to talk."
The way he said it made something inside her go still.
"Is something wrong?" she asked.
He hesitated, then stepped closer.
"It's about last night," he said. "About something I didn't tell you."
Her breath caught. The wind stilled. Even the waves seemed to pause.
Whatever he was about to say, she felt it would change something between them. Maybe everything.
And as she stood there under the moonlight, heart trembling, she realized she wasn't sure she was ready for the truth he was carrying.
But he had already taken another step toward her.
"Elena," he whispered, "I think you should know…"