Oh no. I know that tone...
They say there are three kinds of truths. The first is easy and you toss it jokingly at brunch. The second you admit after someone else goes first. And then there's the nuclear truth—the one you're sure would tilt the axis of the world and make you instantly unlovable if someone knew.
Ben looks like he's holding that third kind in his mouth.
"Do it," Paul urges him. "Unleash it."
A chorus rises, egging Ben on. "Truth and nothing but the truth!"
Ben doesn't even pour the cacao before he speaks, his voice heavy. "I've made plenty of mistakes. Spent my whole life trying to be the good guy. Hell, I think I even pulled it off once or twice, but the truth is... I'm not as good as I told myself because—" He drags in a long breath. "I married someone to forget someone I can't."
For a beat, there's only silence.
My whole body just... stops. Everything, except for the goosebumps swarming up my spine.
I catch Mara in my periphery, her eyes fixed on Ben, stunned.
Paul's not at all shocked like everyone else—he's smiling.
Then Mara smiles victoriously too, like she'd been waiting for this exact sentence and can't believe it finally arrived.
Ben's jaw locks but he nods like he's glad he finally said it out loud.
And me? I sit here, mouth parted, refusing to close until things make sense.
Because you don't lob a bomb like that at a campfire with strangers around—not if it's untrue. Which means itistrue and he doesn't love Lisa. And I can't decide if that makes it better or so much worse.
"It's fine, man. Sometimes life's messy," the guy next to him says, clapping his shoulder.
"True," Ben says flatly.
"Does she know?"
"Yeah... I think she knows..."
Paul and Mara look at me, just a quick flick before she looks at Ben, and her face falls a little. "B?"
He gives her a brief, tight smile. "Yeah?"
Something unspoken passes between them two as I stare at Ben, and it's not just the words, but the urge to hold him—especially since he's talking about me, that gets me.
Everything rushes into my throat, squeezing it tightly until I spring up, too fast and ungraceful.
I don't wait for permission and walk out, gaze pinned to the ground, even though I can feel everyone's eyes following me.
The voices blur into static until it's just me and my own harsh and ragged breath.
That's when the tears come—a tidal wave ripping through me, wringing my heart dry because it's exhausted. God, it's exhausted from bottling everything up.
I don't even know who I'm crying for. Me? Richard? Ben? All of us?
I keep walking until the lights fade behind me and I'm somewhere in the desert, where there's just the kind of silencethat feels like punishment.
Why did I even come here? I knew it was a stupid idea.
"Okay, Emma. It's alright. Calm down," I whisper, sniffling, talking to myself as if that ever works.
Then I look up, and the sky—the sky is bleeding.
