Without warning, I reached down and gave her ass a hard smack.
"That's for spray painting my car," I said.
Her breath hitched, and she bit her lip, trying to suppress a smile. "You're such a caveman."
"Caveman? How about this?" I said, smacking her...
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ESMERALDA'S POV
The warmth was still there.
Faint, lingering, teasing me with the ghost of his body heat against my bare skin.
But he wasn't.
I reached across the bed, my fingers running over the sheets where he had been just hours ago, expecting to find his solid warmth still there. But instead, they met nothing but cold fabric. My stomach twisted.
He left.
The realization settled over me like a lead weight, and I pulled the blanket tighter around my shoulders, suddenly feeling exposed, raw, vulnerable. The air in his apartment felt too still, too empty. I hadn't even heard him leave.
My throat tightened.
"Caleb?" I called out softly, my voice barely breaking the silence.
Nothing.
A cold shiver crawled up my spine as I sat there, listening to the heavy quiet that filled the space. I tried to tell myself that maybe he had just stepped out for something. Maybe he was in the bathroom. Maybe he had gone to grab breakfast.
But deep down, I already knew the truth.
He left.
Just like that. No words. No note. No lingering touch to wake me up.
It shouldn't have hurt.
God, I'm an idiot.
I swallowed the lump in my throat and slid out of bed, my bare feet meeting the cool floor with a jolt. The oversized shirt I had slipped on last night—his shirt—hung loosely around me, swallowing my frame. I clung to it, inhaling the scent of him, something deep inside me wanting to hold onto whatever scraps of him remained.
Don't be pathetic, Esme.
I shook myself, forcing my legs to move. I needed to find him.
The apartment felt suffocating without him in bed beside me. It didn't matter that the sun streamed in through the curtains, warming my skin. It didn't matter that I was still wrapped in his sheets, still smelling like him. Something was off.
I pushed off the mattress, wrapping the blanket around myself as I padded barefoot across the cold floor. Every inch of my body ached, a reminder of just how deeply I had given myself to him last night. I wasn't stupid—I knew who Caleb was. But something about the way he held me afterward, the way his hands had traced my skin like he was memorizing me... it made me believe, just for a second, that maybe this wasn't just sex.
Maybe I wasn't just a distraction.
But now, the emptiness of his apartment told me otherwise.
A hollow pit formed in my stomach as I reached the living room. It was eerily quiet, but the scent of cigarettes lingered faintly in the air. That's when I saw it—the balcony door was slightly open, the sheer curtain fluttering from the breeze.
