Chapter 5: The Apple of My Eye
5
After that night, I left without telling him and flew to London to see an art show. For three months, I never reached out to Caleb once. But oddly enough, Caleb would occasionally text me at night my time, which was early morning for him.
“It’s raining, remember to bring an umbrella when you go out.”
I ignored him. I ate greasy chips on the Thames, got lost in a crowd at the Tate, danced with strangers under neon lights—anything to forget. I went to exhibits, skiing, bungee jumping… I did everything, and finally, on the eve of returning home, I sent Caleb a message.
“I have something to talk to you about when I get back.”
Caleb didn’t reply.
But the moment I jumped off the snowy mountains in Austria, I suddenly realized—I shouldn’t keep clinging to him. If I’m too obsessed with having a ‘happily ever after’ with Caleb, even if that day really comes, can I forget all the pain before the happy ending?
On the third day after coming home, I went back to the place I shared with Caleb. From the Ring camera, I found out he hadn’t been home for a month.
But he came back at midnight. Caleb said he’d go with me next time. I understood—this was Caleb’s awkward way of making peace.
I began to speak to Caleb politely: “No need, I had a great time with my girlfriends.”
Half asleep at night, a warm hand touched my palm. He held my hand. Maybe even someone as cold as Caleb could feel something.
The next day, I slept until the afternoon, then started packing my luggage. I even brought an empty suitcase from home.
When I got to the bedside table and opened the drawer, I found a velvet box I’d never seen before. My hands trembled, breath catching in my chest, but I still reached out and opened the box, heart pounding.
It was a ring. It was the gift I’d always dreamed Caleb would give me—a ring. The afternoon sun shone through the thin curtains by the window, still lighting up the room, lighting up my eyes. Inside the ring was engraved: Apple. It glimmered.
There was also a note in the little box, which read: “You are the apple of my eye.”
You are my most precious person. The signature was from two years ago, on Valentine’s Day.
The sunlight on the floor suddenly cast another shadow. I looked up. Caleb had come back.
I picked up the ring, walked up to Caleb, holding back my tears. I held it in until the veins on my neck bulged, shaking the ring as I questioned Caleb: “So? This is what you call—”
“We’re not right for each other?”
Caleb glanced at the note on the floor, bent down to pick it up. His silence stretched, his hand shaking as he tried to pick up the note.
I reached out and knocked the note out of his hand again. “Say something!”
“Can’t you speak? Caleb!”
The air between us buzzed with all the words we never said. I could see the outline of his jaw clench, his eyes flickering, and for a second, everything in me wanted to believe that love could fix us.