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He barks an insincere laugh. “I one hundred percent did, and you know it.” His voice falls to a near-whisper. “I basically guilt-tripped you. I told you I loved you.”
“It wasn’t the first time,” I say before I can stop myself. There’s a hint of desperation in my voice that I can’t hide, fueled by the bitter realization of what happened, what he’s revealing.
I broke his heart.
He grimaces. “Yeah.” His tired gaze meets mine. “I’ve loved you most of my life, and I’m not sure that will ever change. But…” He trails off, eyes turning to the water. Eventually, he sighs. “Even though it’s hard—really fucking hard—to accept, apparently, loving someone who doesn’t love me back in the same way has closed me off to finding something good with someone else.”
My heart drops. My cheeks go numb.
Clearly, he had some deep conversations with Michelle yesterday and today. The powerful, soul-searching, revelatory kind. And I don’t disagree with what he’s saying. In a twisted way, I’ve never been prouder of Lucas than in this moment. Even if my own heart is caught in the crossfire of his growth.
“I understand,” I murmur.
“Thank you for letting me clear the air.” He sticks a hand toward me. “Partners and friends?”
In my mind, the Titanic is sinking. I’m holding on to a deck chair as it slides toward oblivion.
My cold fingers grasp his warm ones. “Partners and friends.”
His hand relaxes. Releases. And I wonder if I’ll ever touch him again.
“I can’t undo the choices I’ve made in the past, Celeste,” he says softly, “but I want you to know that if I could, I’d only change one thing.”
“What’s that?” I choke out.
“I wouldn’t have stepped aside.”
He walks past me toward the camp where, in a few hours, the past will be painted over.
40
I make it through the day.
Through welcoming the families at Lucas’s side, overseeing the painting of the mural, and chatting with parents about our expected program offerings and our timeline.
I hand out the pre-registration flyers Lucas’s magical marketing guy whipped together, with a QR code that links to our website where they can be put into our new database for early-bird offers. I distribute snacks and sodas and waters, offer sunscreen and give at least ten mini tours of the site.
I make it through Damien gluing himself to Lucas for the first hour. Following him around, laughing, talking, more animated than I’ve seen him in some time. I’m relieved when Daphne shows up and my son immediately abandons Lucas. Then I feel guilty for being relieved.
That night at home, Damien and I order a pizza. Instead of disappearing into his room after eating, he puts on a movie and sits next to me. I stare at the screen, not really seeing it, until he mutes the volume and pivots toward me.
“What’s going on with you and Lucas?”
I jerk in place. “What do you mean?”
“Don’t play dumb, Mom.”
My mouth opens and closes. I can barely meet my son’s stare, a fact that fills me with shame. “I think…” I stop, swallow, and start again, “I think what happened was old friends reconnecting and mistakenly… uh…”
“Hooking up?”
I’ve never wanted to be a turtle before, but here we are. If only I could tuck my head into a shell on command.
“It’s over now. I’m sorry.”
His brows draw together. “What are you sorry for?” He sighs, picking at nonexistent threads on his pants. “It was nice seeing you happy for a minute. But the last few days you’ve been different. Today especially. You had this crazy smile on your face all day, but your eyes were all weird and sad.”
Jesus.
