Chapter 12

Caleb and Hector had known each other for many years. Even if they didn't know every single detail about each other's lives, they were certainly very familiar with one another. The reason they were able to part ways amicably and remain friends afterward was because they both knew they weren't suited to be each other's romantic partners.

Hector was two years older than Caleb, and in their relationship, he had always played the role of the older brother, wanting Caleb to depend on him. He would remind Caleb to drink water in the morning and to take breaks when he had been staring at screens for too long.

Caleb had realized early on that Hector liked to treat his partner like a younger sibling. So, when he first transferred to Southern Prison, he immediately noticed how Hector treated one of the younger inmates differently.

On the flip side, Hector also understood that Caleb didn't like being taken care of. Caleb didn't want to change his lifestyle or depend on anyone else. His ideal relationship was one of equals, where neither person looked up to the other.

There was no right or wrong approach to a relationship, only whether the two people were compatible. Caleb and Hector's preferences were so mismatched that it was only a matter of time before they broke up, even if they tried their best to make it work.

Just as Caleb knew Hector's preferences, Hector knew Caleb's too—so well that Caleb couldn't even deny it.

Caleb didn't want Hector to misunderstand and think he had any interest in Marcus. Despite his reluctance, he resigned himself to preparing for the blind date.

The new bottle of cologne he had bought was still unopened. After finishing his toast and putting the strawberry jam back in the fridge, Caleb finally remembered it.

This particular cologne lasted a decent time after being applied, and Caleb didn't want to come off as trying too hard. So, before heading out to work, he sprayed a little behind his ears and on his wrists. By the time his workday ended, the scent would have faded to just the right level of subtlety.

After Caleb finished delivering the mail, it was already nine in the morning. He returned to find Marcus already waiting at the library door.

Caleb had only recently learned that the central bank released a series of data every morning that influenced the day's stock market trends. That was why Victor had insisted Caleb be there early to act as Marcus' "reading assistant."

"Let me make one thing clear," Caleb said as he sat down at his desk and powered up the computer. "If you lay a hand on me again today, I won't hold back."

"And what would you do?"

Marcus followed him into the office area and sat down next to Caleb, his legs casually spread wide with no intention of closing them.

Caleb didn't answer. His eyes were glued to the computer screen, making it clear he had no interest in engaging with Marcus.

The computer booted up quickly, and Caleb moved the mouse toward Marcus, intending for him to open the webpage himself. But just as he was about to hand it over, Marcus suddenly grabbed his hand and leaned in unexpectedly.

Instinctively, Caleb turned his head, only to find Marcus' face mere inches away. Reflexively, he leaned back, his spine pressing tightly against the chair. As the chair tilted backward, Marcus leaned in even closer.

"Inmate 1017!" Caleb snapped, frowning, as he tried to pull his hand away from the mouse.

But Marcus held it firmly, trapping him in the narrow space between his chest and the back of the chair.

For a brief moment, Caleb thought Marcus was going to kiss his neck.

Caleb's other hand was already on his baton, ready to draw it. But before he could, Marcus pulled away from Caleb's face and looked at him directly.

"You're wearing cologne," Marcus commented.

The two were so close that Caleb could even catch the scent of the prison-issued laundry detergent on Marcus' clothes. The morning temperature wasn't hot at all, but the space behind the desk felt like a stifling oven.

"Back off," Caleb snapped, shoving Marcus away.

The office chair creaked as it snapped back to its upright position.

"Do you always use this cologne?" Marcus asked, now holding the mouse and navigating the webpage with ease. His eyes were on the screen, his tone casual.

It was only then that Caleb realized something.

He had previously tossed an entire bottle of cologne into Marcus' room as a warning. When he and William had gone to check out Marcus' place last time, shards of the cologne bottle were still on the bedroom floor.

Did this guy really have such a sharp nose?

"It's none of your business," Caleb replied coldly.

"This page," Marcus said, nodding toward the screen. "If you would, Officer Johnson."

Caleb was relieved that Marcus had dropped the topic of his cologne. He held back his irritation and began reading the news displayed on the screen. But he hadn't gotten through more than a couple lines before Marcus interrupted him again.

"You know, Officer Johnson, my bedroom is filled with the scent of your cologne."

"The consumer price index is-" Caleb nearly bit his tongue.

"It's a rather distinctive scent," Marcus continued. "Grapefruit, right?"

Marcus' sense of smell really was something else.

Caleb pretended not to hear and continued, "The producer price index is…"

"Aren't you curious why my place smells like your cologne?"

Caleb knew he couldn't dodge this topic any longer. He sighed, looked at Marcus, and asked, "Is it that strange to use the same cologne?"

Marcus thought momentarily, then said, "I suppose it's not strange at all. Please, continue."

Caleb had figured it out—trying to brush Marcus off wouldn't work. The more he evaded, the more Marcus pushed. The only way to prevent him from picking up any inconsistencies in Caleb's words was to confront him head-on.

After Caleb finished reading out the morning's key economic news, Marcus began analyzing the stock market trends. Caleb thought he might finally get a break, but Marcus handed him the book on strawberry cultivation techniques.

"If you wouldn't mind, Officer Johnson."

Caleb couldn't hold back any longer and asked, "Can you really pay attention to what I'm reading while you're analyzing the stock market trends?"

He strongly suspected that Marcus was just letting the words go in one ear and out the other, treating Caleb's voice as nothing more than background noise while he focused on the stock market trends.

But Marcus gave him a puzzled look and asked, "You can't multitask?"

No, Caleb couldn't.

If he was reading, he focused on the book's words. If he was analyzing the stock market trends, he focused on the numbers on the screen. Caleb believed that any average person couldn't possibly do two mentally demanding tasks at the same time.

He decided to test Marcus, asking, "When do strawberry plants bloom?"

"April to May," Marcus answered immediately.

"And when do they bear fruit?"

"June to July. Each plant can produce six or seven berries."

Alright, that was impressive.

Caleb was at a loss for words.

He picked up the book again, but before he could start reading, Marcus suddenly asked, "Officer Johnson, do you trade stocks?"

"I don't."

"Why not?"

"I don't want to end up getting tricked."

"If you follow my advice, you won't be."

Marcus' gaze was so sincere that it almost seemed like he genuinely wanted to help Caleb make money in the stock market. But Caleb wasn't interested in the offer.

"Are you sure about that?" Caleb raised an eyebrow and added bluntly, "Have you forgotten why you're in prison?"

Marcus had been incarcerated for malicious short-selling, a practice involving fraudulent transactions and spreading false rumors to manipulate stock prices for personal gain. The losses suffered by small investors often lined the pockets of people like him.

Even in the best-case scenario, where Marcus engaged in regular short-selling without malice, there would always be unsuspecting investors losing out.

Caleb's words were harsh. After all, Marcus was only making conversation, and Caleb had just shot him down with a cutting remark.

For once, Marcus didn't respond.

It seemed Caleb had killed the mood, and Marcus had no interest in continuing the conversation. He turned his attention back to the stock market trends, acting as if the exchange had never happened.

But something about Marcus' expression piqued Caleb's curiosity.

"Let me ask you something," Caleb said, nudging Marcus with his knee.

"Yeah?" Marcus turned to face him.

"That malicious short-selling…" Caleb hesitated, "Did you really do it?"

Caleb usually didn't concern himself with an inmate's personal affairs. The prison was full of people with ulterior motives, and everyone had a story to make themselves look better.

Caleb asked Marcus that question not because he wanted to meddle in his affairs, but because he figured it might help William, nothing more.

Instead of answering directly, Marcus responded with a question of his own. "What do you think, Officer Johnson?"

"I don't know," Caleb blurted out without much thought.

As soon as the words left his mouth, he noticed Marcus' lips curl into a faint smile, as if the tension from their earlier exchange had completely vanished.

"You don't know," Marcus repeated, still smiling.

It was only then that Caleb realized he had slipped up.

How could he say he didn't know?

He was a correctional officer, and Marcus was an inmate. Of course, he was supposed to trust the court's verdict without question and say, "I think you did it."

That would have been the logical response.

But instead, Caleb had hesitated, indicating that deep down, some part of him believed Marcus might be innocent. Whether that part was small or insignificant didn't matter—what mattered was that it existed. Otherwise, Caleb wouldn't have said he didn't know.

Caleb felt a pang of frustration.

Damn Marcus and his sharp logic! Why was he always quick to seize any weakness?

Marcus' mood seemed to improve significantly.

While looking at the computer screen, he casually changed the subject, "Officer Johnson, you look nice today. Heading to the city for some fun?"

Caleb gave his usual response, "None of your business."

Marcus turned his head and gave Caleb a once-over. "Meeting someone?"

Not in the mood to engage with him, Caleb decided to go along with it.

"Yes."

"Is that so?" Marcus nodded thoughtfully. "A male friend, right?"

"How do you know it's a guy?" Caleb asked, unable to help being curious.

Marcus' tone remained calm and steady, "You like men."

Caleb had never openly come out. Aside from Hector, no one in the entire Southern Prison knew about his sexual orientation.

He frowned slightly and insisted, "I don't like men."

Caleb wasn't sure what he was trying to hide. It was as if some voice deep within him kept warning him not to expose himself to Marcus, or else he would be seen as prey.

However, Marcus didn't press the issue. He glanced at the time, stood up, and said, "Enjoy your date, Officer Johnson."