Lillian nodded slowly. “So more information, but not more answers.”
“Something like that.”
There was a pause. A long one.
“Would you ever come back?”
“He said the plan is three to four years.”
“Three years is a long time.”
Bea looked down, then up. “But also…not that long, right?”
“Long enough to change you,” Lillian said softly.
Bea didn’t respond. Her fingers folded the edge of the pastry bag again.
In her mind, the image of Gage at the podium played on loop. The picture of a man who was marching forward.
“Do you want to go?” Lillian asked.
That question.The question Gage has never asked me.
Not once. Not directly.
Bea looked at her friend. Unable to lie, but unable to say the words out loud.
“You want to want to,” Lillian spoke for her, gently. Bea nodded. Once. “Because you love him.” It wasn’t a question.
Bea’s eyes burned before she could stop it. She blinked up at the sky and nodded again.
“Is that enough to make you go?” Lillian asked.
Bea’s voice was quiet, but steady. “Probably.”
Lillian studied her. “What if you stayed?”
She didn’t answer at first. She reached for a napkin and folded it, slowly. Then finally, she whispered, “I think if I stay…I’ll lose him.”
“And if you go?”
“I’d be okay. Eventually.”
“Is that enough?”
The question sat between them like it had nowhere else to be.
And this time, Bea didn’t have an answer.
RAFAEL
4:56 p.m.
The notifications hadn’t stopped all day.
Normally, Rafael didn’t care much for social media. But today he’d read more posts than he had in the past year combined.
Maybe it was curiosity. Or something closer to punishment.
