And I would finally stop pretending I didn’t know what I wanted.
The evening had that gray,heavy quality that made everything feel muted. Like the world knew something was ending and had dressed appropriately.
The taxi sat in the circular driveway, its trunk already stuffed with Stuart’s luggage. Not much, really—a few suitcases, a garment bag, a box of books he couldn’t bear to leave behind. The rest he’d already planned to have us ship.
I stood on the front steps and watched him do a final check, patting his pockets for his passport, his phone, his wallet. The small rituals of departure.
We’d all gathered to see him off, clustering on the porch like mourners at a funeral no one wanted to admit was happening. Eddie stood with his arms crossed, his jaw working like he waschewing on words he couldn’t quite spit out. Cutter and Laura flanked him, Laura already clutching a tablet, because she’d be taking over Stuart’s administrative duties now.
The students had said their goodbyes earlier, most of them awkward and uncertain. Stuart had never been their teacher, just a steady presence in the mansion. The oracle who saw too much and said too little. The quiet man who sometimes screamed in his sleep when the visions took him. They didn’t know what to make of his leaving.
Neither did I.
A breeze picked up, carrying the smell of the ocean and something else—rain coming, maybe, or just the particular scent of change. I wrapped my arms around myself even though I wasn’t cold.
Allie broke from the group first. She crossed the gravel drive in quick strides and wrapped her arms around Stuart in a fierce hug, the kind that said everything words couldn’t. I watched his face over her shoulder—the way his eyes closed, and his arms tightened around her. The way he seemed to be memorizing the moment.
“I love you,” I heard her say, her voice muffled against his shoulder. “You know that, right? No matter what happens, no matter how far away you are. I love you.”
“I know.” He hugged her back just as fiercely. “I love you, too, kiddo. I’ll be seeing you a lot. We’ll make Forza charter a plane. You train. We hang out. Sound good?”
“Perfect.”
“Take care of your mom for me.”
She nodded. “Always.”
When she pulled away, her eyes were bright with tears. She retreated to Jared’s side, and he put an arm around her shoulders, steady and sure. She leaned into him like he was the only thing keeping her upright.
Stuart turned to Timmy, who had been clinging to my leg with the particular intensity of a child who sensed something was wrong but didn’t understand what. “Hey, buddy. Come here.”
Timmy let go of me and toddled over, his dinosaur sneakers scuffing against the gravel. Stuart scooped him up, holding him close, pressing his face into Timmy’s hair for a long moment. I saw his shoulders shake once—just once—before he got control of himself.
Timmy, being Timmy, tolerated the affection for about three seconds before squirming. “Down! Wanna play with Elena!”
Stuart laughed a real laugh, the first I’d heard from him in days. It cracked something open in my chest. “Okay, okay.” He set Timmy down and watched him race across the lawn toward where Fran and Elena were waiting near the garden. “He’s going to be fine,” Stuart said, almost to himself. “He won’t even remember this by lunchtime.”
“He’s resilient.”
“He is.” Stuart’s eyes stayed on our son for another moment. “Make sure he knows I love him.”
“I will. And you can tell him yourself everytime you talk on the phone. And we’ll be visiting at least twice a year. Who worries about the cost of international travel whenForza’s paying the airfare?”
Eric stepped forward then, and I realized I was hugging myself. The two men faced each other—my past and my present, my first love and my second.
And my first again.
Eric extended his hand, and Stuart took it.
Their grips held for a beat longer than necessary. “Take care of her,” Stuart said. “Of them.”
Eric nodded. “I will. I promise.”
I saw Stuart’s face change. The tension in his jaw softened. Something that might have been gratitude flickered in his eyes.
Stuart nodded as he released Eric’s hand. Then he was turning away, climbing into the taxi, the door closing behind him with a sound that felt far too final. The engine started, and I watched it roll down the long drive, finally disappearing around the bend where the oak trees blocked the view.
I kept watching even after it was gone. Kept listening even after the sound of the engine faded into nothing. Kept standing there on the steps while the others drifted away one by one, back into the house, back to their duties and their distractions and their carefully maintained illusions of normalcy.
