The words came out steady. Steadier than I felt, steadier than I had any right to sound with my whole world crumbling around me.
Liam looked between us, something like pain flickering across his face. "I'll give you two a minute." He was gone before either of us could respond, slipping past me in the doorway, his hand brushing my shoulder in a gesture that might have been an apology.
"Lucy, please." Cal took a step toward me. "Let me explain."
"Explain what?" I heard my own voice like it belonged to someone else. "That you've been with me this whole time because Mateo asked you to? That everything between us started because you made a promise to a dying man?"
"It started that way, yes, but?—"
"You moved into my building." The realization was still hitting me in waves, each one worse than the last. "Six months ago. You found out where I lived and you moved in across the hall. On purpose."
Cal's jaw tightened. "Yes."
"And you never told me."
"I didn't know how."
"You didn't know how." I laughed, and the sound was ugly, broken. "For six months, you watched me. Listened to me cry through the walls. Passed me in the hallway and pretended we were strangers. And the whole time, you were there because Mateo asked you to take care of me."
"Lucy—"
"Was any of it real?" The question tore out of me before I could stop it. "The night I knocked on your door. The way you've been with Gabrielle. The almost—" I couldn't say it. Couldn't name what had almost happened in my kitchen. "Was any of it because you wanted to be there? Or was it all just you keeping your word?"
"It was real." Cal's voice cracked. "All of it was real. Lucy, I swear to you."
"How am I supposed to believe that?" I stepped back when he reached for me. "How am I supposed to know what's real and what's just you keeping your word?"
"Because I'm telling you." His voice was raw. "I'm standing here telling you the truth."
"The truth is that you lied to me for months!" I shook my head. "You let me think you chose this. Chose me. But you didn't. Mateo chose for you."
"That's not?—"
"I'm not finished." The words came out sharper than I intended, but I couldn't stop them. "Every time you showed up, every time you helped withGabrielle, every time you looked at me like—" I stopped and swallowed. "I thought it meant something. I thought it was real. And now I find out it started because a dying man asked you to watch over me."
"It started that way. But Lucy, it became?—"
"I don't know what it became. And apparently, neither do you."
The words landed, and I watched as they hit him. I saw the fight drain out of his face, leaving behind a weary, hollowed-out expression I’d never seen before. For the first time, the walls weren't just cracking, they were gone.
"I'm here because I love you."
The words hung there, waiting for me to do something with them. I thought he was going to stop and say anything else, but he didn't and his next words cut me like a sharp knife.
"I love you, Lucy. Not because of Mateo. Not because of the promise. Because of you." He took a step toward me, and I held my ground this time, too tired to retreat. "Because of the way you sing to Gabrielle at 2 AM when you think no one's listening. Because of how hard you fight for the people you love. Because being with you is the first time in three years I've felt like myself again."
I wanted to believe him. Every part of me ached to close the distance between us, to let him hold me, to pretend I'd never heard that conversation in the hallway.
But I couldn't unhear what I had already heard.
"You should have told me." My voice came out quieter now, the anger fading into something worse. Something that felt like grief. "From the beginning. You should have told me about the promise, about why you moved into my building, about all of it. And you didn't."
"I know."
"Why?"
He was quiet for a long moment. When he spoke, the words sounded like they cost him everything.
