I wave as he walks away, Sam trotting beside him, the unspoken sensation he left behind staying with me.
Ethan
I put the fish in the fridge and head back, stopping just behind the wall where I still have a clear view of the entrance. Alexander seems like a decent guy, but I don’t know him, and the way he looks at my mom when she isn’t paying attention makes something tighten in my chest. Men aren’t supposed to look at married women like that.
Still, there’s respect in his eyes, too. As long as he doesn’t cross a line, it’s fine.
It’s just a normal conversation, so I stay where I am and watch. Mom is smiling, really smiling, in a way I haven’t seen in days. This trip isn’t just for me and Alicia. It’s for her, too. With Dad’s pattern of being present some days and working late on others, her smiles have become rarer, slipping away when she thinks no one’s looking.
Ever since Dean—one of my closest friends—told me his dad cheated, I’ve been paying more attention to mine. Dean’s dad was always traveling, always on his phone, even when he was home.
Then his mom found the texts. He’d been having an affair with another woman for over a year. Just like that.
Now, whenever my dad spends too long staring at his phone, I notice. I watch his face for something, anything that looks like guilt. Once, I even walked up behind him, hoping to catch him off guard. He didn’t flinch. Didn’t hide anything. Just kept working, eyes glued to a spreadsheet.
Mom trusts him. And I trust her.
As for him… I just think he cares more about money than about us. Every time he pushes me toward business or economics, it’s because he wants me to follow in his footsteps, take over one day. But I won’t. I’m going to study architecture whether he likes it or not.
The company has already taken enough from us. The final straw was when he stood Alicia up and took hours to get to the hospital when she got sick.
Still, I know how much it hurts Mom when we fight, or barely talk at all. So for her, I’ll try. I’ll make the effort.
But I can’t pretend everything’s fine if he keeps choosing work over us.
For Mom, I’ll try.
Colin
I wait for Ceci’s answer, breath held, blood still pounding in my ears.
“Hi, Colin. It’s good to see you too,” she says, her tone edged with exasperation.
Is she stalling? Sorting through the cleanest version of the truth to give me?
“Who is he, Ceci?” I press.
“The neighbor in the gray house, on the other side of your parents’ place,” she replies evenly. “He told Alicia he was a friend when he dropped off the fish.”
I search my memory, trying to place him. Vague impressions surface, a man in his sixties, maybe, someone I’ve seen lingering around that house from time to time. Relief loosens my chest, but it’s fleeting.
“Was it the neighbor,” I ask, “or his son?”
Her brows draw together, genuine confusion flashing across her face. “His son? Colin, I didn’t talk to him long enough to know anything about his personal life. I don’t know if he’s married or if he has kids.”
I exhale hard, dragging a hand down my face. “I’m sorry. I just… I don’t like the idea of another man bringing you things. Especially when I’m not there.”
“The way you’re saying it, it sounds like he brought me a gift,” she counters, her tone steady. “And it wasn’t just for me. It was for all of us. It was a kind gesture. I made it for dinner. The kids loved it.”
I apologize again, my voice steadier now. She says she forgives me, but the way she ends the call only minutes later—barely managing anI love youin return—tells me she hasn’t. Not really.
I don’t deserve her patience. I’m the one carrying lies, stitching together half-truths, tucking pieces of myself into shadows. Ceci isn’t like me. She’s steady. Loyal to her core. Uncomplicated in the way only truly honest people are.
And yet the thought of her smiling at another man, of someone else standing too close to her, nearly unravels me.
She is my anchor. The first and only woman I have ever truly loved. The only person who has ever seen me clearly beneath everything I’ve built and hidden. I was her first in every way that mattered, and God help me, I intend to be her last.
I can’t imagine a life where I’m not the one she turns to. Not the one she leans on.
