Chapter 24

CHAPTER 24

MACI

I stand at the window, looking out at the pool, feeling much different from the last time I stood here. Everything was so lighthearted back then. It was naughty, sure, watching Lukas climb from the water, the rivulets dripping down his muscled body, but it wasn't dangerous , at least not like this. Now, danger lurks in every moment. I know Lukas is part of the plan, but we haven't talked privately.

"Are you okay?" Mom asks, walking up beside me.

"Fine," I reply.

"Do they really think they'll come after us ?"

Mom uses " they " twice, but she's unsure who both the " they " are. I haven't told her everything about the security company or the anti-tech psychos. I wish I didn't have to drag her into this at all. "It's better to be safe," I murmur.

"Huh?" Mom asks.

"I said it's better to be safe."

Mom shakes her head. "My hearing is not the best lately. I've got eardrops. It's a buildup of wax, apparently. Ew , right? It should clear within a couple of weeks."

"Wait." I almost laugh. "Is that why…"

"Why what?" she says innocently.

"It's nothing."

"You've said it now, Maci."

We're alone in here. Kayla and Finn are in her bedroom. Finn's sleeping off the booze. Lukas is with Gabriel and the Bright Night guys. I think Mark's in the bedroom, too, either reading or doing some work. "Is that why you make so much noise when you and Mark…"

Mom gasps. " Do I?"

"Yeah, but it's only started recently."

She puts her hand on her head. Her cheeks are red. "Oh, God . Well, yes, yes, that'd be why. Oh, how embarrassing!"

Now, I can't hold back the laughter. It's like a release valve letting out all the stress. She grins and playfully slaps my arm, but then she gets serious. "We haven't talked about you-know-who recently," she murmurs.

She's tried speaking about the story I spun her a few times—the lie that I had some steaminess with Kayla's ex-boyfriend. "Is now really the best time?" I snap.

She leans back, her hand on her chest. Hurt and confusion touch her features. "I just thought… It's better than sitting around here waiting for something to happen."

I sigh, then glance down the hallway. "It's worse than you think, Mom."

Stop . I haven't even told Kayla yet, but this is eating me up. It's worse now we're all crammed in the same house together. The sun has set, and starlight bounces off the pool's surface. It's the same day as the spa, the near sex, and his cock pressed against me. It feels like too much has happened since then for it to be the same day.

"Worse?"

"Better and worse. It depends on your perspective." I smooth my hands over my stomach.

"Tell me," she says.

"Not here," I whisper.

Not anywhere , I should say. I could lie again, but the truth spills out of me when we leave the house and walk to the other side of the pool. I don't go into detail, but I tell her the bulk of it. I tell her I care about him. "And he cares about me, too. I know it's nuts. I know he's older, but Dad was older than you. He was twelve years older. I know that's not as big of an age gap, but it's not about the age. It's about us. It's about the connection. I swear, Mom, we'd be taking our relationship seriously if it wasn't for Kayla."

I wouldn't just be his maybe- girlfriend then.

Mom watches me with surprising calmness, and then, shockingly, she smiles. "I'm so glad you told me," she says.

"Wait… do you know? "

"A week ago, Lukas came to the apartment. He was in quite a state. He looked like he hadn't slept in days. He explained what happened. He said he needed me to warn him away. He said he needed me to hate him. He said, as your mother, I had every right, but then I started asking him questions."

I drop into one of the poolside chairs. All the breath has just been sucked out of me as I try to compute what she just said. "A week ago?" I whisper. This was before we reconnected, before the spa and the almost steaminess. This was when I was trying to make myself believe I could let him go, and I thought he was doing the same.

"What questions?" I murmur a moment later.

"I asked him how he felt about you, how long it had been going on. I asked him if it was serious. I asked him why he needed me to get him to stop."

"Why didn't you tell me?" I say.

"I wanted to wait for you to tell me," she replies. "I thought you might want to keep it a secret forever, and I figured that was your decision. That's why I asked him to promise he wouldn't tell you, either."

"What did he say?"

Mom sits on the other chair, interlocking her fingers. She's got this borderline dreamy glint in her eyes as though she's contemplating his words. "He said he's never felt like this in his life. He said he can't stop thinking about you—every second of every day. He said if it wasn't for Kayla…"

We both glance at the house, but the back door is closed. Yet I can tell, despite the dreaminess in her eyes, Mom is as aware of the impending downfall as I am. She realizes that this could go very wrong, very fast.

"He'd be asking me a question."

I swallow, thinking of marriage, wondering if it makes us crazy. "He said that to me, too," I mutter. "But we can't do that to Kayla, can we? She's been through so much already."

"Have you tried letting him go?" Mom asks.

"Yeah," I say grimly. "Pretty much every single second of every day since it first happened."

Mom nods, thankfully not asking me to give any more details. "I've always wondered about you, Maci," she says. "I know you can be cruel to yourself about your appearance. I thought that was why you never had boyfriends, though I was certain you could have any boy you wanted. Now I think I know. You were waiting. I've never seen you like this before."

"Like what?" I ask, but I know what she's talking about. I feel like I'm glowing.

"Even with all the stress hanging over our heads," Mom continues, "you can barely keep that smile off your face."

"Kayla's my best friend," I say. "Lukas is more than twice my age. It's not normal , Mom."

"Since when did you spend your life stressing about what is and isn't normal?" Mom counters. "You're not doing anything wrong."

"Kayla—"

"Okay, yes, that, her. Yes, I'll admit that, but I mean in terms of your age gap. All I care about is that he respects you and you're happy. Those are my concerns."

"He does," I say, "and I am. I would be, but this is all academic, Mom. When we tell Kayla, everything's going to come crashing down. There's no way to avoid it."

"When are you going to tell her?" Mom asks.

"After all this is over, I guess," I reply. "We haven't really talked about it. We haven't had time, obviously."

Mom nods, glancing up when a security guard walks around the pool perimeter. We're both quiet until he's out of earshot.

"Your father always said that to read somebody, you have to make an orb of your consciousness and throw it through their skull."

I laugh. "That sounds like Dad."

She smiles, but the dreaminess in her eyes turns sad. "He had this game he'd play when he first became a writer. He'd sit on a park bench and watch people. He'd throw this so-called orb of consciousness into other people's heads. First, he'd imagine how it felt to physically be them, their shape, the texture of their clothes, if they were sweating, their shoes. Then he'd try to see through their eyes and fill his thoughts with what he imagined they were thinking. It was a way for him to enhance empathy for his novels."

I take Mom's hand. We've both dealt with the grief well, but it never fades entirely. There will always be a part of us that can't stop missing him.

"I've tried it here and there," Mom goes on. "I did it with Lukas. I'm sure he was telling the truth. He really cares about you, but he was also telling the truth when he begged me to make him stop. He's an honorable man. He won't pursue you without my blessing. When I saw how in love he was, I couldn't."

"In love," I whisper, shaking my head. "Don't go that far, Mom."

She squeezes my hand. "I know love when I see it. I've been in love twice in my life."

I gasp. "You love Mark?"

Mom narrows her eyes. "Does that surprise you?"

"I… I guess not," I say, thinking back over all the times I've seen them together, all the affection and sparkle between them.

"I suppose you'd prefer if I never loved again."

Now it's my turn to squeeze her hand. "Don't be silly. I want you to be happy."

"Still, it will always be difficult for you—how not-Dad Mark is."

"Sure it is," I tell her. "But just because something's difficult doesn't mean we should just quit, does it? It doesn't give us the excuse to… What?"

She's smiling at me. "I just think you should apply this logic to your situation."

I bite down. "I can't stop thinking of Kay's face when we tell her. How it'll turn to hate and ruin every moment we've ever spent together."

"What if it doesn't? What if she sees that you have something special? What if she supports you?"

I let go of Mom's hand, stand up, and walk to the pool's edge. "That's never going to happen," I say.

"You don't know that. Kayla wants her dad to be happy, too, Maci, as much as you want me to be."

"I guess we'll see," I mutter. "I guess we'll hope."

Mom walks up behind me and puts her hand on my shoulder. "Whatever happens, I'll always be here to support you."

I turn and fall into a hug. She wraps her arms around me. We stay like that for a long time.