CHAPTER 239: CALEB’S GOODBYE

Mara walked out, her steps measured, her arms wrapped tightly around Isabella. No dramatic exits. No final words. Just a mother — or something very close to it — taking a child home.

The van door closed behind her. And just like that... she was gone.

****

The Shepherd mansion loomed quietly in the soft glow of the security lights, its familiar silhouette shadowed against the night sky. As the van rolled to a gentle stop near the front entrance, Mara leaned forward, instinctively checking that Isabella was still sound asleep on the seat beside her.

She was.

Wrapped in the soft blanket Stefan had left for them, her tiny form was calm now, lost to the exhaustion of everything she couldn’t yet comprehend.

Mara’s eyes flicked up to the driveway.

Someone was there.

Pacing slowly. Hands shoved deep into his coat pockets. Shoulders hunched. Hesitant.

She narrowed her eyes, trying to see more clearly through the tinted glass — then stiffened.

No. It couldn’t be.

As the car passed him and pulled into the driveway, she got a clearer look — and her heart twisted sharply.

Caleb.

He looked like a man who had come undone. Not drunk. Not like he usually was on nights he came crawling back with flowers and begging for a chance. Tonight, he looked sober — but broken. Hollow-eyed. Haunted.

Mara opened the door and stepped out, shutting it behind her with more force than necessary. She stormed across the gravel.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she snapped, her voice cutting through the night like ice. "How dare you show up here?"

He didn’t flinch. His eyes met hers, and for once, he didn’t have his usual cocky smirk. Just pain. "I mean no trouble," he said quietly. "I just... I wanted to see you. Talk to you."

Mara crossed her arms tightly, her body tense with anger and disbelief. "You’ve got to be out of your damn mind," she hissed. "You think you can just walk back here after everything you’ve done? After working with Lucy to harm me?"

Caleb nodded, swallowing hard. "I know. I know I’ve got no right. I’ve hurt you more than I can ever fix. But tonight—" His voice broke a little. "Tonight, you’re the only person I could think of. The only one who ever saw me... before I turned into this."

She scoffed. "And what, now you want me to save you?"

"I don’t deserve it," he admitted, stepping closer but not too close. "But I’m begging you to forgive me."

Mara’s heart twisted again. Her instinct was to scream at him, to tell him how little he mattered. But something about him tonight—his sunken eyes, the sincerity in his voice—made her pause.

"I’m leaving," he said firmly, as Mara turned back toward the van.

"Can I kiss you goodbye?" Caleb asked.

She stopped.

Turned.

Her eyes narrowed, not out of confusion but at the sheer audacity of the man standing in front of her. "...Are you serious right now?"

He half-shrugged, a helpless, almost ashamed look crossing his face. "Then... maybe a hug? Just... something to hold onto before I go."

Mara stared at him, blinking slowly — not dazzled, not tempted, but truly amazed at the nerve. She shook her head. "You need help." And she started walking.

But halfway back to the van, something pulled her feet to a stop. Something deeper than pity — a lesson she had just learned far too late with someone else. She never said goodbye to Maria. Never forgave her while she was alive. And that regret would live in her forever.

She turned back slowly, her voice softer this time. "I forgive you."

Caleb blinked in surprise.

"I hope you find your life again," she said, meaning every word. "You had something once, Caleb — something better than the man you became. Underneath all that stupid playboy nonsense, there was a good person in there. Maybe you still have a chance to find him."

There was no heat in her words. No bitterness.

Only truth.

And maybe a trace of peace.

Then she turned once more, walked back to the van, and climbed inside without another word. The door shut gently behind her.

Caleb stood in place, watching the van slowly roll down the drive and disappear through the gates.

And maybe—just maybe—the fact that she didn’t look at him with hate this time... gave him a flicker of something he hadn’t felt in years.

Hope.

****

The iron gates of the Shepherd mansion swung open with a soft groan, the van pulling through as the last of the night wrapped itself gently around the sprawling property. The porch lights glowed, and behind the tall windows, the golden hue of home spilled softly into the dark.

Mara sat in the backseat, Isabella asleep against her chest, small breaths warming the fabric of Mara’s blouse. She hadn’t stirred once since they left the airport. It was as if her body, after days of trauma and grief, had finally given in to the comfort of rest.

The van came to a gentle stop.

A moment later, the front doors of the mansion opened. Stefan stood in the doorway, barefoot in sweatpants and a hoodie, his hair messy, clearly pulled from sleep—or maybe just waiting up for them. Beside him stood Steve.

Mara stepped out of the van, carefully adjusting the blanket around Isabella before lifting her into her arms. She held her tightly, protectively, like something precious the world had tried — and failed — to take away.

Stefan met her halfway down the front steps.

"Long night?" he asked gently, his eyes already scanning the small child in her arms.

Mara gave a slow nod. "The longest."

He didn’t press. Just reached over and took her overnight bag from her hand, the weight of his presence grounding her more than any words could.

Steve opened the door wider. "The room next to yours is ready," he said. "We thought she’d want to be close."

Mara gave him a grateful look. "Thank you."

As she stepped inside, the warm air of home enveloped her. Her body wanted nothing more than to collapse, but her heart stayed alert, still tuned to the small heartbeat against her own.

She walked softly up the stairs, Isabella’s head nestled into her neck. Stefan and Steve watched from behind as Mara pushed open the door to the guest room, now newly made into a nursery space. The crib stood in one corner, unused. A bed was freshly dressed, a nightlight softly glowing in the shape of a moon on the wall.

Mara laid Isabella down gently, brushing a curl from her forehead as the child stirred but didn’t wake.

She sat beside the bed, running her hand gently over Isabella’s back. For a while, no one said anything.

Then Stefan spoke from the doorway.

"She’s safe now." Mara didn’t answer, only nodded slowly, her eyes still on the child.

Steve approached quietly and placed a folded note on the dresser. "A letter arrived earlier," he said. "From the court. About guardianship." Mara glanced at it, then back at Isabella.

"I’ll read it in the morning," she murmured. They left her there, letting the room fall to stillness again.

Mara sat in the low light, her hand resting protectively on Isabella’s back as the little girl finally slept in a place that would be hers, with people who would never let her be alone again.

And though the ache in her chest remained, something else bloomed quietly inside her.