Chapter 10: Fractured Promises

The gymnasium lay silent under the harsh glare of fluorescent lights. Elena’s boots clicked sharply against the floor as she entered.

Caleb was waiting for her with his arms crossed. His broad frame was tense. His dark eyes locked onto her.

“Where were you, El?” His voice was edged with accusation. His knuckles had turned white by gripping his own arms.

Elena stopped a few paces away from him. Her green eyes were blazing with defiance. Her lips curved into a sharp smile.

“Oh? I was dropping Tyler home. Did you not see us leave?” She asked smoothly. Each word was a calculated strike. “He was a wreck after your session, Cal. I took him home. Helped him take a shower, naked. Then I worked out his knots. I took my time to relax his every muscle.” Her gaze held his. She was daring him to react.

Caleb’s face tightened. His breath hitched at the innuendo in her words. “What does that mean?” He snapped. A tremor of dread broke through his anger.

She didn’t flinch. Her eyes bored into his. “Exactly what you think,” she said. Her tone was venomous. “You told me to push him, didn’t you? Whatever it takes, right? I gave him my hands, my focus, and my time. He’s loose now, Cal. All primed to be your champion.” Her smile twisted.

Caleb’s fists clenched. his eyes flashed with rage and pain. Her words painted a vivid picture for him. The darkness in his mind started filling the gaps. Her hands on Tyler, her warmth, the intimacy that was his to claim.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, El,” he said. His voice was rough. She saw the fear in his eyes for the first time. “This is about the Grappler, not ... not whatever you’re pulling.”

Elena’s laugh was sharp. “The Grappler?” she spat. She closed the distance between them. Her anger was rising with her voice. “You think this is still about your damn trophy? You pushed me to him, Cal. You told me to do whatever it takes. Now you’re shocked I’m burning for it?” Her chest heaved. Tears pricked her eyes, but her fury held them at bay. “I’m giving him what you wouldn’t take. My heart and my fire. And he’s soaking it up.”

Caleb staggered back. Her words hit him like a physical blow. His knee throbbed. He saw the woman he’d loved. The one who’d bet her heart on his dreams. Now she was wielding that heart against him. “You’re mine, El,” he said in desperation. His words rang hollow in his own ears.

“Yours?” Elena’s voice cracked. Her smile vanished. Her eyes searched for the man she’d married. “I was yours when I quit modeling. When I held you through that knee injury. I was yours when I stood by you while you were chasing ghosts. But you? You see a tool. A bait for your protégé.” She jabbed a finger into his chest. Her voice trembled. “You wanted Tyler to burn for the Grappler? He’s burning for me now, and I’m not sure I can stop it.”

Caleb’s hands twitched. He wanted to grab her. He wanted to pull her back from the edge. Her words tore open the truth he’d buried. The cost for his dream was too high. “It’s not like that,” he said. His voice sounded barely above a whisper. “Tyler’s my shot to make it right. He’s just like me. Don’t you see it?”

A tear ran down her cheek. “Your shot?” she whispered. Her voice cracked with his betrayal. “What about my shot, Cal? What about us?” She stepped back. Her defiance crumbled in grief. “I’m pouring myself into him. It’s not just for you anymore. He wants me, Cal. Not a trophy. Not a dream. Me.”

Caleb’s face twisted in guilt. He reached for her, but she flinched away. “El...” he started. His voice was raw, but the words failed. Her tear-stained face burned brighter. The golden Grappler was still calling him, but he heard her plea.

Elena wiped her cheek. Her fire reignited. “You made this, Cal,” she said. Her voice was cold. “You wanted a champion? I’m building one. But don’t cry when the fire you started burns us all.” Her shoulders squared but trembling. “Tyler’s match is in two days. He’ll be ready. But you? You’re losing more than you know.”

Elana’s boots scuffed the mat as she turned away. Each step felt like a hammer against his resolve. He couldn’t let her go, not like this.

“El, wait,” he called. His voice cracked, raw with desperation. He stepped forward. His knee protested faintly, but he pushed on. “Don’t ... don’t talk to Tyler tomorrow. Please. I’ll fix this mess after the match. I swear.”

Elena paused in her steps. She turned towards him. A flicker of hope cut through her anguish. “Fix it?” she whispered. “Can you even see what’s broken?”