But those good feelings didn’t last long.
The box of Mia’s belongings sat on the passenger seat as I drove home, a bittersweet reminder of the little girl who had quickly stolen my heart. Regret overwhelmed me again as Ipulled into the parking lot of my apartment complex. I sat for a long moment, staring blankly at the building.
I had really fucked up. There was no other way to put it.
I never meant to hurt Marc or betray his trust. I cared about him more than I’d cared about anyone in a long time. But I knew now that I was scared of losing him, of ruining what we had before it even really began.
The irony of it all wasn’t lost on me—my fear of losing him had driven me to actions that might have cost me everything.
And yet my silence caused exactly what I feared most—that I’d ruined not just our relationship, but also my connection with Mia. The thought of never seeing her bright smile or hearing her infectious laugh again made my chest ache. I was ashamed for keeping this secret and for not having the courage to be honest from the start.
Had I lost Marc for good?
I needed to explain myself to Marc. He deserved to hear from me what I did, what I knew, and why I hadn’t been truthful. I owed him that much, even if he never wanted to see me again afterward. The thought of facing an angry, unloving Marc filled me with dread, but I knew I had to take that chance.
Even though I didn’t deserve it, I wanted to explain myself to him. To apologize, to make him understand that I never meant to hurt him, even if I’d fuck that up royally.
Still sitting in my car, I reached for my phone, my fingers hovering over Marc’s contact.
Hi.
I have some of Mia’s things from school. Mind if I drop by later to return them?
My heart pounded relentlessly, my finger hovering until it finally pressed down.
I wouldn’t have blamed him for saying no, or just outright ignoring me. But a few moments passed, and then my phone buzzed with his response.
Meet me in the backyard like last time.
Okay. This was good.
It was a start, at least.
Losing Marc had been a wake-up call. Secrets and lies can cause damage even when they come from good intentions. I’d learned that lesson the hard way.
This time, it would be different. I’d take an honest, open approach, laying all my cards on the table, opening my heart, and accepting the consequences. But I owed it to Marc, to Mia, and to myself, to be honest, and to fight for what we might have together.
This time, I’d rather risk it all than let Marc slip away again.
***
The hours crept by with agonizing slowness until finally the clock struck nine. I grabbed the box, my keys, and headed out the door.
I parked in front of the Mendez house and sent Marc a text, telling him I was there. Clutching the box of Mia’s possessions, I stepped out of my car and made my way to the backyard around the side of the house.
And there, beneath the sprawling oak tree, sat Marc, his silhouette illuminated by the moonlight. No wine or snacks like last time, no thick quilt for us to lie on and make out.
He looked up as I approached, his expression unreadable in the shadows. I set the box down on a small patio table, my hands suddenly clammy, my mouth dry. “Hi.”
“Thanks for bringing Mia’s things.”
“It’s no problem.” I walked closer and kneeled next to him. The grass was cool and damp beneath us, the night air heavy with the scent of flowers from Marc’s garden.
His dark eyes met mine, pain and hesitation written on his face. Yet beneath the surface, I detected another glint—curiosity, maybe even a flicker of hope. “Marc,” I began, my voice cracking slightly. “I’m so sorry for not being honest with you. I didn’t tell anyone about Magic Marco, I swear.”
For a long moment, neither of us spoke. Leaves rustled above us, and crickets hummed in the distance.
“Ken, I…”
