His eyes stung as if someone had taken Anna’s saw to them.
Shit. Melody had gotten used to her. Within a few weeks. She missed her when she was gone. Someone else had left her life.
And no one knew how she felt better than him. He pressed his hand to his eyes and breathed deeply, trying to pull himself together. He didn't want to shed a tear in front of the girl who had become his entire life within the span of a year. Who wasn’t the only one who had gotten used to Anna.
He'd gotten used to her laughter when he gave a monosyllabic answer. To her serious yet happy face when she talked about her job, which she loved more than anything. To her sighing in his ear. To the calm she radiated when he couldn’t find it.
And he had let her go. He had to let her go.
What the hell was he supposed to do?
His throat tightened. His chest was a single mass of loose organs, bumping against each other uncontrollably as if he were sitting unbelted on a damn roller coaster.
“Fuck,” he whispered.
“Lu!” Melody’s eyes widened. “You can’t say that.” She looked around, frightened and frantic, as if she were afraid he would make her look bad in front of her teacher.
“Sorry, Mel, I...” ...I am a wreck.
“Okay, Moreau, let’s go outside for a minute,” Fox murmured gently, squeezing his shoulder. “Because with that expression, you’re not just scaring the kids, but me too.”
He swallowed and shook his head. “I...”
“Melody,” Fox said, ignoring him completely, “this is Leon. He loves pictures. Can you explain to him what colors you used and why? Lu and I need to talk about something.”
“I’d love to,” she responded excitedly, tugging on Leon’s sleeve, who looked down at her, overwhelmed. “First, what’s your favorite color?”
Moreau didn’t hear Alvarez’s reply because Fox was already pushing him out the door into the front yard.
“Fuck,” he whispered again. He had to pull himself together. He didn’t know why this was so difficult for him. He'd never had a problem with it before. He...
“What the hell happened, Moreau?” Fox asked urgently.
“Anna and I ended it,” he replied stonily, running both hands through his hair.
“I figured that, I just don’t understand...why? I explicitly gave you my okay.”
“You... What?” He looked at his best friend, irritated.
“Well, I saidgoodwhen you gave in, didn’t I? I was honestly happy for you, man. It was obvious that you had feelings for each other and that it wasn’t just sex. You weren’t seriously scared off by Temple and West, were you?”
Lucas laughed hollowly. As if. “That’s not the point.”
Fox raised his eyebrows. “Then what is the point? And if you start giving me that bullshit about you not havingthat kind of relationship, I’ll punch you. Because, shit, when you told me why you slept with her, for a moment I thought,mhm, so that's what love at first sight is.”
Lucas’ jaw muscles worked incessantly as he peered down at the weeds growing between his feet.
Love at first sight.
Was that it? He didn’t know. And he wasn’t interested in giving it a name, to define it with a sentence or even a single word because what he felt was too damn big for that.
“We...aren’t right for each other. Too much drama,” he muttered.
Fox looked like he was about to slap him. “What the hell, Moreau? You can’t be that stupid. She’s special and you know it.”
Obviously, yes, he knew that.
“You don’t talk to anyone about your feelings. Are you aware of that? No one. Not me. Not Hazel. Shit, we’ve known each other for ten years, Lucas, and it still feels weird calling you Lucas.”
