He looks down at his feet, shoulders tense. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
“Why not?” I ask gently, resisting the urge to reach for him.
“Because…” He takes a shaky breath. “Because right now, they’re just names. People I can pretend don’t exist if I try hard enough. Once I talk to them, it becomes real. Everything becomes real.”
My heart aches for him. “I know it’s scary,” I say, taking a small step closer but still maintaining enough distance to not crowd him. “But you don’t have to do it alone.” The words I’ve been rehearsing all day tumble out. “I keep thinking about what I should have done differently. How I should have told you the moment I found out. I was so caught up in trying to protect you that I didn’t realize I was just adding to the hurt.”
Caspian’s fingers fidget with the hem of his sleeve. “It’s not just about you not telling me,” he says quietly. “It’s…everything. My whole life feels like it was built on secrets. My mom…” His voice cracks slightly. “She was my best friend. We told each other everything. Or at least I thought we did.”
“Maybe she was trying to protect you too,” I suggest gently. “Sometimes the people who love us most make mistakes trying to shield us from pain.”
He lets out a shaky breath. “That’s what Marcus said too.”
“Smart guy, your friend.”
A ghost of a smile touches his lips. “Don’t let him hear you say that. His ego’s big enough already.”
The brief moment of lightness fades, and I can see the weight of everything settling back on his shoulders. “I’m here for whatever you need,” I tell him softly. “Whether that’s someone to talk to or to sit quietly with. Even if you just need someone to be angry at—I can be that too.”
He looks up at me then, his dark eyes swimming with tears. The festival lights catch in them, making them shine like stars. All day I’ve imagined this moment, planned what I would say, how I would make things right. But now, seeing him hurting like this, all my carefully prepared words feel inadequate.
Before I can process what’s happening, Caspian steps forward and wraps his arms around me in a tight hug. I freeze for a moment, surprised by the sudden contact after days of distance. Then, carefully, as if he might shatter under my touch, I fold my arms around him. He feels smaller somehow, more fragile, and I want nothing more than to protect him from everything that’s hurting him.
“I missed you,” he whispers against my chest.
“I missed you too,” I murmur into his hair. “So much.”
We stand like that for a long moment, the festival slowly dismantling around us. When Caspian finally pulls back, his eyes are red but dry.
“I should finish packing up,” he says, gesturing to his booth.
“Where’s Marcus?” I ask, glancing around.
“He wanted to check out the festival once it got quiet at the booth,” Caspian says with a small shrug. “He’s never been to Vermont before.”
“Let me help?”
He nods, and together, we work in comfortable silence. I watch as he meticulously cleans the coffee maker, his movements precise and careful. There are a few pastries left in the display case that didn’t sell.
“Can I have these?” I ask, pointing to the remaining baked goods.
“Sure,” Caspian says with a small shrug. “I made them myself. They’re not as popular as your mom’s, apparently.”
I grab one of the cookies and take a bite. It’s a little on the hard side, but the flavor is good—a nice balance of sweetness with a hint of cinnamon.
“This is the best cookie I’ve ever tasted,” I say earnestly.
“Well, well, well.” Marcus’s voice cuts through as he returns from exploring the festival. He starts helping pack away the remaining items. “Looks like we found the one person who actually enjoys Caspian’s baking experiments. Must be true love.”
Caspian doesn’t seem to catch the comment as he focuses on the coffee maker, but I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face. It’s not everything fixed—not by a long shot—but it feels like a start. Like maybe there’s hope for us after all.
As we work, I steal glances at Caspian, memorizing the way the festival lights play across his face, the determined set of his jaw as he concentrates on his tasks. I know we have a long way to go, but for now, this is enough. This moment, this peace, this tiny step forward.
It has to be enough.
CHAPTER 33
CASPIAN
