You sat curled up on the couch, eyes on the TV but not really watching. Caleb sat across from you, sleeves rolled up, his focus buried in the stack of files he’d brought home. He’d barely been through the door before murmuring a promise over his shoulder: “Just a few files to clear, and then you’ve got me all night, pipsqueak.”

That easy grin of his made it sound like gospel truth.

Your phone buzzed, and you glanced down, thumb swiping through notifications without thought — until one made you pause. A social media post. Caleb, standing beside a young woman in a Farspace Fleet uniform. The first photo was professional enough — a handshake, both smiling for the camera. But the second and third showed them closer, shoulder to shoulder, his hand resting casually on her shoulder while hers brushed his waist.

You felt something twist in your chest.

When you asked, Caleb didn’t even look up from the file, answering easily, voice steady and unbothered. “Her? Oh, that’s Lydia. She’s a new officer—needed a formal welcome to the Fleet. PR insisted on photos.”

It was such a simple explanation. Of course, it was.

Still, your gaze drifted back to the pictures. Lydia’s curls framed a face that looked like it had never seen a bad day. Clear skin. Bright smile. Perfect posture. You caught yourself comparing—your reflection against hers, the way she looked standing beside him.

And apparently, it showed.

Caleb’s voice broke through your thoughts, light but edged with concern. “Pips… what’s that face for? You look like someone swapped your coffee for battery acid.”

When you didn’t answer, the sound of shuffling papers followed. He set the file aside on the coffee table, the air shifting instantly as his attention turned fully to you.

“Hey.” His voice dropped lower — softer, steady, threaded with something that made it hard to look away. Those sharp purple eyes of his caught yours, searching, patient but unrelenting. “Talk to me, honey. What’s got you looking like that?”

There was warmth in it — but also that quiet, protective intensity that said he already knew something was wrong. He knew you better than you knew yourself, and he wasn’t going to let you carry it alone.