Chapter 36
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
LUKAS
Ilie awake for hours, listening to the hum of the fridge in the kitchen and the occasional sound of traffic outside my flat, staring at the ceiling as my thoughts move in circles I cannot escape. Every time I close my eyes, I see a different version of my life.
Kate smiling at me across a coffee cup.
Hudson sitting beside me at the rink, asking questions about hockey sticks.
Félix asleep against my chest with flushed cheeks.
None of it fits together properly anymore. Or maybe it could have, if the timing had been different.
That thought is the one that finally breaks something in me around four in the morning, because I realise I’ve started grieving a future I barely had time to touch.
By the time daylight filters weakly through the blinds, I know what I have to do. I just don’t know how to survive doing it.
The message sits open on my phone for almost twenty minutes before I finally send it.
Lukas: Can we meet today?
Kate replies fifteen minutes later with a simple ‘Okay’. No heart emoji, no teasing comment or softness to it. Just okay. That hurts enough to make me put my phone face down on the counter and close my eyes for a second.
Because she already knows.
I chose a quiet place near the lake where we walked together after dinner weeks ago, before everything became complicated.
It’s cold outside now, the kind of cold that settles deep into your bones if you stand still too long. The sky hangs heavy and grey overhead, and the water moves lazily against the banks while the wind cuts across the path in sharp little bursts.
I arrive early because sitting in my flat, waiting to leave, feels impossible.
I stand by the railing, my hands shoved into the pockets of my coat, watching ducks drift across the water as my stomach tightens with every passing minute.
When Kate finally appears, I feel the impact of seeing her like a physical blow.
She looks tired.
Not messy or undone. Kate would never let herself fall apart in public like that.
But I see it anyway, in the shadows beneath her eyes and in the careful way she holds herself together.
Her hair drifts lightly in the wind as she walks towards me, and for one stupid second, my entire body reacts instinctively, urging me to go to her and kiss her, to fix this and make it right. Instead, I stay exactly where I am.
“Hi,” she says quietly.
“Hi, bébé.” The endearment slips out automatically, and something flickers across her face before she looks away.
God, I hate this already.
For a moment, neither of us speaks. The silence between us is thick, heavy with everything left unsaid beneath it. I look at her properly for the first time since she arrived, and whatever careful speech I rehearsed on the drive over vanishes completely.
Because she’s standing here in front of me, looking tired and guarded and heartbreakingly beautiful, and I can’t let this conversation happen without telling her the truth first.
“Before anything else,” I say quietly, my voice rougher than I intend, “I need you to know something.”
Kate’s expression shifts, cautious now. “Okay…”
I take a slow breath, but it does nothing to steady the chaos in my chest. “I’m in love with you.”
The words land heavily between us, swallowed almost immediately by the cold wind off the lake, but I still see the exact moment they hit her, when she freezes completely.
Her lips part slightly, and her eyes seek mine as though she’s trying to decide whether she heard me properly. Then the pain flickers across her face quickly, because this should have been said differently. Not here, not while everything is falling apart around us.
“Lukas…” she whispers.
“I should have said it sooner,” I admit, shaking my head. “Before all of this happened. Before things became complicated.”
Emotion rises visibly in her throat as she swallows hard, folding her arms tighter around herself as she tries to hold herself together.
For a second, neither of us speaks. Then, very quietly, she asks, “How’s Félix?”
The fact that she asks that after what I just confessed breaks me, because that’s who she is. Even though she’s hurting.
“He’s better,” I say with a smile. “Still tired, but he’s getting better.”
Relief crosses her face, genuine and immediate. “Good.”
I nod once, then glance toward the water before forcing myself to look back at her.
“I didn’t ask you here to talk about Félix.”
“No,” she says, her eyes shining now. “I guessed that.”
The wind lifts around us again, carrying the faint smell of rain from the water, and I feel suddenly sick with how badly I don’t want to hurt her.
I step closer slowly, not enough to touch her, but enough that I can see every emotion she’s trying to keep controlled behind her eyes.
“I don’t know how to do this properly,” I admit.
Kate’s throat moves as she swallows. “Neither do I.”
I drag a hand through my hair roughly, emotion sitting heavy in my bones. “I keep trying to make all of this fit together in my head,” I tell her honestly. “Hockey. Félix. Camille. You. Hudson.” My voice catches on Hudson’s name. “And I can’t do it.”
Kate says nothing; she lets me talk and just listens.
“I’m failing at everything,” I continue. “I’m forgetting meetings. Missing sleep. Forgetting what day it is half the time.” I let out a humourless breath. “I barely recognise myself right now.”
“You’ve had your entire life turned upside down,” she says softly. “And none of this is your fault.”
I close my eyes briefly because hearing her defend me when I am about to break her heart feels unbearable. When I look back at her, her eyes are already glassy. “Kate…” My voice lowers instinctively. “I cannot be what you deserve right now.”
There it is. The thing that has been sitting between us for days has finally been said out loud. I watch the words hit her.
She looks down, blinking hard, and I know she is trying not to cry in front of me. I would have preferred it if she’d cried openly or even screamed.
“I know,” she whispers eventually.
The pain that tears through my chest at those two words is so sharp I actually have to look away from her for a second. “I hate this,” I admit roughly. “I hate that this is happening now. I hate that I found you and then…” I shake my head helplessly. “Everything changed.”
Her eyes lift back to mine. “Listen, Félix didn’t ruin anything.”
“No,” I say immediately. “Never Félix.” And I mean that with every part of myself.
Kate nods, as though she expected that answer. “I know.”
The wind moves her hair across her face, and I reach toward her before I can stop myself, brushing it gently back behind her ear. The touch lingers, as does the look she gives me afterwards. God, I love this woman. The realisation lands fully and completely this time.
Love.
And I have to walk away from her anyway.
“I love being with you,” I tell her quietly. The words scrape painfully out of my chest. “I need you to know that none of this changes how I feel about you.”
Kate’s eyes close briefly.
“I love your laugh,” I continue, because once I start, I can’t stop now. “I love the way you overthink every single thing, even when you pretend you are calm. I love the way you look at Hudson like he is your entire world.” My throat tightens dangerously. “And I love him too.”
That breaks her, and a tear slips down her cheek before she can stop it, and seeing it nearly destroys my resolve. I step closer without thinking. “Bébé…”
“He loves you too,” she whispers.
Christ. I press a hand over my mouth briefly because I genuinely do not know how to survive hearing that.
“I know what this is costing you,” she says shakily. “That’s why I can’t and won’t ask you to choose differently.”
“You should hate me.”
Kate gives the smallest, saddest shake of her head. “I could never hate you.”
The honesty in her voice guts me. Anger would let her heal cleaner. This quiet heartbreak between us will linger.
“I need to be everything for him right now,” I say softly. “He is only two years old, and I already missed so much.”
Kate nods immediately despite the tears still sliding down her face. “I know.”
“And if I try to hold onto you while I figure this out…” I exhale roughly. “I am going to hurt you more than I already have.”
Around us, the world keeps moving normally. Water ripples softly against the shore. A couple walks past in the distance, laughing quietly to each other. And my entire life feels like it is splitting open.
Kate wipes beneath her eyes quickly before looking back at me with devastating steadiness. “You don’t need my permission to be a father, Lukas.”
The fact that she isn’t begging me to stay is exactly why I fell in love with her. I let out a broken breath and step fully into her space then, unable to stop myself anymore. My hands settle carefully at her waist, and she allows me to touch her.
For a second, we just stand there holding onto each other like neither of us wants to be the one who finally lets go. “I am so sorry,” I whisper against her forehead.
“I know.”
I close my eyes. God, she smells like home already, and that ruins me.
Kate’s fingers curl lightly into the front of my coat as she exhales shakily. “I think part of me knew this was coming.”
I pull back just enough to look at her properly. “You did?”
“A little.” A sad smile touches her mouth briefly. “You’ve looked exhausted for weeks.”
“I didn’t want to lose you.”
“You’re not losing me,” she says softly, even though we both know it feels exactly like that.
My chest aches. I lower my forehead against hers, breathing her in one last time while every instinct in my body screams at me not to do this. Not to let her go, but Kate deserves more than the fractured version of me I have right now.
Slowly, I lift my hand to her face and kiss her. It is nothing like the desperate kisses we’ve shared before. This one is heartbreaking in its tenderness.
She kisses me back instantly, and I feel the exact second she breaks in the way she trembles against me.
I hold her closer automatically.
The kiss deepens for one brief, devastating moment before it softens again, both of us clinging to something we already know is ending. When we finally pull apart, neither of us moves far.
Her eyes stay closed for a second longer before she opens them again. They’re red-rimmed and beautiful, but they’re not mine anymore.
“I’m glad I met you,” she whispers.
The words hit so hard I genuinely cannot breathe. I brush my thumb beneath her eye carefully. “à bient?t, bébé.”
She shakes her head slightly at that, fresh tears slipping free. “Don’t say that like it’s a promise.”
My throat tightens too much to answer. Kate takes one shaky breath, then another, before finally stepping back.
And I let her.
That is the hardest thing I have ever done in my entire life.
She looks at me one last time, as if trying to memorise me. Then she turns and walks away. I stand there long after she disappears from sight, staring at the empty path while the cold wind cuts straight through me.
And then I let myself break completely.