“You might get to see her again,” he says, voice dropping. “Lucian… why aren’t you freaking out with me right now?”
I swallow. “I’m fine.”
“False,” he says instantly. “Try again.”
“I can handle it.”
“Oh, we know that,” he says, gentler now. “But can you handleher?”
The question lands right where it hurts.
Her face flashes in my mind. Her voice, and the way she looked at me last night—controlled, distant, like I was a problem she’d already solved and filed away.
“I don’t know,” I admit.
Matt is quiet for a moment. “You still love her,” he says it as a statement and not a question.
I don’t answer; my silence speaks for itself.
“You don’t have to say it. I’ve known since I saw you in the hospital, and for the first time, you said her name like it hurt. Lucian… you’re going to see her, and after everything you’ve been through, you deserve to walk in there standing tall. Not like you’re half of something, or like you’re less than.”
I close my eyes and lean my head back as I take in his words,
He keeps going, softer still. “Your worth isn’t tied to your missing limb. Or the one bad moment in a hospital bed. You’ve been rebuilding yourself for months. Maybe this is the moment you get to show her that.”
The SUV rolls onto gravel and into a world that looks like a town built overnight. String lights hang between RVs like their own constellations. Orion told me the entire campground was booked months ago, so they could hire security to make sure no one could get into the area without the right credentials.
We pass through security easily enough, and I watch the fence slide past the window and think about how carefully everything has been arranged. Matt exhales, interrupting my thoughts. “Just tell me one thing.”
“Yeah?”
“Do you think you can be the man she deserves now?”
I swallow hard, thinking about how far I’ve come since that day in the hospital. “I’m trying.”
“That’s all you can do,” he says. “And hey… maybe this time, don’t push her away.”
A breath escapes me, halfway between a laugh and a groan. “No promises.”
“Make one,” he says. “Even if it’s just to yourself.”
The SUV rolls to a stop in front of a long line of RVs.
“Go get her, Lucian,” Matt says quietly. “Or at least… don’t lose yourself before you try.”
The line goes dead, and I sit for a beat, my eyes fixed out the window while the campsite sleeps around me.
I let the silence sit around me as I count my breaths before opening the door. I step out and walk toward Celeste, each footfall measured and inevitable.
12
Celeste
Iwake up with dread curling like smoke low in my stomach, heavy and immovable. I lie there for a moment, staring at the ceiling, before I push the blankets aside and sit up slowly. I press the heels of my hands into my eyes, hoping the pressure might do something useful like clear my head or even dull the memory of last night.
It doesn’t.
Of course it doesn’t.
