Falling For The Wrong Brother

At two seventeen in the morning, Nora Bennett's phone vibrated against the nightstand.

She did not pick it up right away.

Very few people ever called her at this hour. Nora already knew who it was—only Caleb Blackwood would reach out in the dead of night. For the past ten years, whenever Vanessa Crowe broke his heart, or whenever he got himself into trouble again, Nora's phone was the one that rang.

She stared at the name glowing on the screen, letting the phone buzz for several seconds before finally reaching out.

"Caleb?"

There was no immediate answer on the other end, only heavy, ragged breathing. It sounded like someone who had just sprinted a marathon, or someone fighting back tears—strangled and strained, as if he were trying desperately to hide it.

"Nora," he finally said, his voice raw. "Can you come over?"

Nora sat up in bed, the soles of her feet meeting the cold floor.

"What happened?"

"I don't know." Caleb swallowed roughly. "I just... I need to see you."

Nora glanced down at the time, then shifted her gaze toward the window. A few scattered city lights flickered through the dark, and rain streaked slowly down the glass pane. She had been getting ready to sleep, with a major cybersecurity project meeting scheduled for tomorrow. But Caleb said he needed her, and she had never learned how to say no to that.

She could never refuse him.

Ever since her parents separated when she was young, Nora had absorbed a single lesson early on: when someone said "I need you," it meant she had value. If someone needed her, they wouldn't easily abandon her. She craved that feeling of being indispensable, even while knowing how toxic the pattern was. She simply had found no other way to prove that she mattered to anyone.

"Send me the address," she said.

"You'll come?"

"Of course."

Caleb went quiet for a few beats, letting out what sounded like a sigh of relief. Once the address came through, Nora changed into a black sweater and trousers, grabbed her coat, and paused at the front door.

She instinctively reached for her first-aid kit, then stopped herself. Bringing it felt like an admission of just how routine this cleanup duty had become. But after shutting the door, she let out a quiet sigh, turned back inside, and slipped the kit into her bag anyway.

She knew him too well. Caleb was almost certainly bleeding.

Twenty minutes later, Nora parked outside Caleb's apartment building. The rain hadn't let up, coating the asphalt in a slick, wet sheen under the amber streetlights. She rode the elevator up to the seventh floor. When she reached his apartment, the door stood slightly ajar.

From inside came the sharp, brittle sound of shattering glass.

Nora knocked on the door frame, testing the air. "Caleb?"

Silence answered her.

Unable to wait any longer, Nora pulled out her spare key and pushed the door open.

The apartment was dimly lit. The heavy stench of liquor hit her first, followed by the sight of a knocked-over floor lamp in the living room.

A shattered liquor bottle lay beside the coffee table, shards of glass scattered across the rug. Caleb sat slumped against the base of the sofa, bracing himself with his right hand on the floor. His palm was sliced open, blood welling along the gash.

He looked up at her, his eyes rimmed in red like a wounded animal. "You actually came."

"Where else would I be?" Frustration tugged at Nora's composure. She set her bag down and walked over to stand in front of him. "Give me your hand first."

"I thought you'd think I'm pathetic."

"I'll decide whether to mock you once you stop bleeding."

Caleb gave a faint, bitter smile, but he didn't offer his hand.

His eyes grew wetter, his voice catching in his throat. "Vanessa is getting married."

Nora already knew.

Social media had been plastered with news of Vanessa Crowe's engagement to Elliot Hayes for days. In the photos, Vanessa wore an elegant white gown, standing beside Elliot with a massive diamond sparkling on her finger.

Still, hearing it directly from Caleb made the room's air turn instantly heavier.

"I know," Nora said, keeping her expression carefully measured. She crouched down, clearing away a clean shard of glass near his knee. "Even if she's getting married, that doesn't mean you have to trash your own place and tear yourself apart like this."

"She won't actually marry Elliot," Caleb murmured, searching Nora's eyes for validation, desperate for denial. "It's all an act, isn't it? It's a lie. Vanessa doesn't love him at all. She's just doing this to punish me."

Hearing him cling to his own delusion made the corner of Nora's mouth twitch with a faint, cynical smirk. "They looked pretty in love in the photos."

"That's just for the cameras!" Caleb's voice spiked with sudden fury. "Vanessa loves me. The only reason she's with Elliot is because her father forced her. Elliot can give her money, connections, a company—her family needs that. But she doesn't love him!"

After his outburst, silence crashed over the room. Nora didn't speak. The sharp metallic tang of blood hung in the air. Caleb was still clutching a jagged piece of glass in his fist, his grip tightening in his agitation until the edge dug deeper into his palm.

Yet he seemed completely numb to the pain, repeating it over and over like a mantra. "Vanessa only loves me. She doesn't love him..."

Nora's heart clenched. She reached into her kit for an antiseptic wipe, firmly prying his fingers open.

"Are you out of your mind? What does tearing yourself to pieces solve? How can you be so certain she loves you?"

"Because she told me! She said she loves me, that she only had to be with someone else because of her family!"

"What else did she tell you?"

"She told me that as long as I wait for her, she'll come back."

Nora didn't answer right away. She pressed the antiseptic swab against the cut, and Caleb flinched at the sting.

"Gentle."

"If you're so afraid of pain, stop hurling glass bottles at walls and slicing your own palm open."

"I didn't throw it."

"Right, it just flew into the wall on its own?"

Caleb fell quiet. He watched Nora bend over his hand, carefully cleaning the wound, the anger in his bloodshot eyes slowly draining into hollow exhaustion.

"She wasn't like this before," he said softly. "When we first met, she'd drive over to see me in the middle of the night. She didn't care what anyone thought. She told me we didn't need money, and we didn't need a lavish wedding."

Nora had heard these stories a hundred times.

Caleb and Vanessa had first met at a charity gala. Vanessa had worn a shimmering silver gown, holding a glass of untouched champagne, smiling at everyone in the room. Caleb had claimed she looked like the only person who hadn't been swallowed whole by that shallow, glittering world—innocent and untouched, like an angel.

And so he had fallen hopelessly, recklessly in love with her.

Later, Vanessa left him, again and again, only to come back every time. Every time she walked out, Caleb swore it was finally over; every time she returned, Caleb convinced himself this was true love.

And Nora had always been right there on the sidelines.

She helped Caleb recover accounts Vanessa had blocked, smoothed over the fallout from his drunken spirals, and even drove out to the airport at three in the morning just to drag him back from another doomed pursuit.

She had always told herself she was just being a good friend.

But if it was only friendship, why did she care whether Caleb noticed when she changed her hair? Why did she have to steel herself every time he leaned close, reminding herself not to hope?

"All done," Nora said, smoothing down the bandage. "It's not deep. You won't need stitches."

Caleb looked down at the clean white gauze on his palm.

"You always know what to do."

"Because you're always making a mess."

"Will you always help me?"

The question was tossed out so lightly, as if it cost him nothing.

Nora's hands froze.

That wasn't what she truly wanted to hear. What she longed for was 'you matter to me,' or 'I don't know what I'd do without you.' But Caleb didn't say any of that. He simply looked up at her with pleading eyes, waiting for the reassurance that would put his own mind at ease.

"Clean up your living room first," Nora said.

Caleb offered a faint smile.

"Will you come with me to the wedding?"

"What?"

"I'm going to find her." He pushed himself up from the sofa, kicking aside a piece of broken glass near his foot. "I don't believe she actually wants to marry Elliot. She has to be waiting for me to stop it."

"Caleb, a wedding isn't some private rendezvous for the two of you. It's a high-profile public event. Vanessa's family, Elliot's family, and the entire media will be there."

"That's why I need you."

"You need someone to book your tickets, drive you there, and explain why you're causing a scene at a high-society wedding."

"I need you," he repeated, his tone turning dead serious this time. "Nora, you're the only one I trust."

The room went completely still.

Nora knew those words didn't mean Caleb loved her. She knew he was just looking for the one person who would never abandon him, someone to share the fallout. Yet in that quiet moment, she still heard something stir deep inside her chest.

Maybe this time would be different.

Maybe when she stood beside him all the way to Vanessa, Caleb would finally see who had been standing by him all along. Maybe he would finally see her.

"When are we leaving?" she asked.

Caleb's eyes brightened instantly.

"Tomorrow."

"The wedding isn't for three days."

"I can't wait three days."

"Of course not." Nora swept the broken glass into the dustpan. "You were never good at waiting."

Caleb stepped up behind her, reaching out to wrap his arms around her shoulders. Nora's body went rigid for a split second, but she didn't pull away.

"Thank you," he murmured.

His chin rested lightly against her shoulder, his warm breath brushing her ear. Nora caught the sharp scent of alcohol mixed with his familiar woody cologne. She closed her eyes, telling herself not to read anything into the embrace.

Yet she committed every second of it to memory.

Just then, her phone rang. It was Tessa Bennett.

Nora stepped back out of Caleb's hold and answered the call.

"Where are you?" Tessa asked.

"Out."

"It's past two in the morning, and you're out?"

"I'm at Caleb's."

A two-second silence fell over the line.

Tessa's tone turned icy. "Did Vanessa do something again?"

"He was hurt."

"He gets hurt every single time, and you're always there. Nora, he doesn't act like this because nobody's looking after him."

"Tessa, this isn't the time."

"When is the time? When he actually marries Vanessa, are you going to keep cleaning up his marital messes too?"

Caleb stood nearby, close enough to catch every word.

Nora lowered her voice. "I'm just going with him to the wedding."

"You know damn well you aren't just going as a friend. You're helping him go chase down a woman who doesn't belong to him."

Nora hesitated, her voice barely a whisper. "He's hurting right now."

"That's his choice."

The words hit Nora like a physical blow. She wanted to argue, but found herself completely at a loss for words.

Tessa's voice softened slightly.

"You always tell yourself people need you. But who actually needs you, Nora? Caleb just needs someone to show up whenever he's miserable. That doesn't mean he'll ever stay when you're the one in need."

Nora looked over at Caleb.

He stood by the coffee table, his gaze lowered, looking as though he hadn't heard—or perhaps had heard every single word all too clearly.

"I'll be home soon," Nora said.

"You say that every time."

After the call ended, only the sound of rain tapping against the glass remained in the living room.

Caleb walked over to the coffee table and picked up his phone. The screen lit up just as a new message from Vanessa popped onto the display.

'If you still want me, come find me before Saturday. Don't bring anyone else.'

Nora saw the text.

Caleb saw it too.

His immediate reflex was to turn the phone face down against the glass tabletop.

"She's waiting for me," he whispered.

Nora said nothing.

She should have reminded him that the message carried no promises, no explanations, and zero guarantees. But she held her tongue.

Because she suddenly realized that agreeing to accompany him wasn't just about protecting Caleb.

She wanted to see for herself whether Vanessa would truly turn back at the very last second.

And if Vanessa did, would Caleb finally see who had been standing by his side the entire time?

Nora straightened up abruptly, packed the first-aid kit back into her bag, and picked up her coat.

"We leave at nine tomorrow morning," she said. "Go to sleep now, and don't drink any more."

Caleb nodded.

"Nora."

"Yeah?"

"You won't leave me there alone, will you?"

She looked at him, letting several seconds pass before answering.

"I won't."

It was the promise she had made to Caleb more times than anything else in her life—and the one promise she had never once kept to herself.

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