She heard Jason humming softly in the next room, his innocent world unaffected by the storm that was approaching from the outside, but hers? It was crumbling under the weight of secrets, guilt, and the creeping shadow of doubt. Downstairs, Lucas was sitting at the kitchen counter sipping coffee, eyes fixed on his phone. Lorna stood in front of the mirror the following morning, staring at her reflection as though she were trying to recognize herself. Dark circles rimmed her eyes, a silent testament to a restless night.
"Didn't sleep," he answered, tapping absently. "I have a lot of work to do."
Lorna nodded as she observed his fingers moving with a nearly robotic precision. "Are you still collaborating with the educator from the school function?"
A flicker too quick, Lucas looked up. "Wishes? She assisted me in coming up with some concepts for the parent board. That's all.
Although Lorna didn't pursue it further, a seed had already been sown, its roots extending into her mind.
When she dropped Jason off at art class later that afternoon, she found herself waiting outside a quaint bistro. Michael had requested a meeting—just the two of them, neutral ground, no legal talk, just... a conversation. Time had worn them both down.
"Thanks for coming," he said, getting up briefly. "I wasn't sure I should," Lorna whispered as she sat. "After everything…" "I'm not here to fight," Michael said gently. "I've already caused enough damage." She looked at him then, really looked—and for a moment, the past swept in like a tide. The stolen kisses. The whispered dreams. The pain.
"Jason looks a lot like my father did at his age," he added in a hushed tone.
Lorna felt her chest tighten. "Michel—"
Almost apologetic, he interrupted, "I'm not here to accuse you." However, I had to know. And now I do.
Between them, silence hung like a brittle bridge. And then he asked, "Are you happy, Lorna?"
She didn't answer right away. Instead, her gaze landed on the window, where people were moving by with ease and laughter. She wanted to accept. She wanted to think it was true.
But there was a certain freedom in honesty.
After a while, she said, "I'm surviving."
Michael gave a nod. "For a long time, I was, too."
They left with a lingering glance that neither of them could describe, but no promises.
Lucas was at home, watching their driveway from the window. When he watched her exit the car by herself, his jaw tensed.
His voice was low as he asked, "Where were you?"
She told the truth. "Speaking with Jason's dad."
Lucas had a chilly, phony smile. "So we're calling him that now."
As Lorna walked past him, her heart ached. She sensed his bitterness building up to the point where it would overtake them both.
She went upstairs to see how Jason was doing and then went back to her room by herself.
The cracks in their perfect life were no longer subtle.They were growing, noisy, and threatening to consume everything.