Chapter Forty-Five Lily
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Lily
W illow suggested we both check on Lorenzo, but I decided it’s best if I go in alone, so I say goodbye to my mom and sister before heading to the classroom I visited before.
I have no idea what to say to Lorenzo when I find him. His back is turned to the door and his head is hung forward, as if the weight of tonight’s debate is crushing him.
It physically pains me to see him so dejected. I got a glimpse of it onstage, although he is always quick to shield his emotions, but now he has no audience to impress.
The full force of his disappointment hits me like a punch to the stomach.
My heels click against the floor, the fast beat matching the pace of my heart, as I walk up to the desk he is leaning against. I go to pull him into a hug, but he turns away from me.
Deep in my gut, I feel that the night is going to go from bad to worse.
“I want to be alone,” he says gruffly.
“Doesn’t mean you should be.”
His reply is nothing but a drawn-out sigh.
“It’ll be okay.” I try to keep my tone upbeat despite the sense of dread growing inside me. I’m always the positive one. The looks for a silver lining in everything type of person, even when the sky is falling.
I can’t be anxious about tonight. No. That won’t do either of us any good, so I refuse to give my fears power over my actions.
“We will regroup and figure out the best strategy moving forward,” I say.
“There is no other strategy,” he lashes out, the corded muscle in his neck straining. “We’re fucked.”
“It was a bad night, yes. But we still have two months to—”
He laughs, but in a haunted kind of way. “Lavender Lane was the only card I had up my sleeve, and he called my bluff. He fucking called it, and I have no other hand to play.”
I take a deep breath, in through my nose, out through my mouth, hoping the few seconds buy me patience. “I mean, the idea to let the town vote on the restoration was a surprise—”
“A surprise?” He slides his hands through his hair and tugs on the roots. “It was the best fucking idea that asshole has ever had, and trust me when I say it kills me to admit that.”
Even if he said nothing, I would’ve seen the truth in his eyes, and it hurts to witness such a vulnerable moment from him.
“He had a few good comments, but so did you.”
“Not nearly as many, and not nearly as good.”
“You weren’t listening to what the audience was saying. Not everyone is Team Trevor, despite what you think, and Willow can vouch for that as well.”
He exhales loudly.
“Tomorrow we’ll regroup and figure it out together.” I reach for his hand.
He pulls it back. “Please go.”
“No.”
“I don’t want you here.” He refuses to look at me. “So leave. Now.”
“I’m not going, so quit wasting your time.” I stand tall. “I don’t run away when things get tough.”
That clearly was the wrong thing to say, and I instantly regret it when his entire face goes blank. It’s unsettling, how quickly he can go from broadcasting his emotions to shutting down—a skill I’m sure he picked up during his childhood.
“I didn’t mean it that way.” The words leave me in a rush.
“It’s okay if you did. It’s not like it isn’t true.” His voice is clipped. Straight to the point, like we’re acquaintances rather than lovers.
“Lorenzo,” I groan.
He spins around, giving me his back. “Can’t you take a hint? You’re the last person I want to be around right now.”
I stumble back. My chest feels like he punched a hole straight through it, but I hold steady, ignoring the ache.
He needs you , I say, fighting the urge to run as I roll my shoulders back.
“We’ll get through this together.”
“No, we won’t,” he says quietly.
This frustrating man. “I get that you’re anxious—”
“Anxious?” He laughs again, this one more bitter than the last. “I’m fucking furious because he’s going to win, which means we both lose everything.” His voice shakes, and if I hadn’t already realized I loved him for a while, him caring about what matters most to me would’ve done the trick.
“I don’t want to think about what-if scenarios when there’s still a chance you can win, but if the worst-case situation happens, then we’ll figure it out. I can restart in another part of town—”
He shakes his head. “There’s no we .”
I jerk back. “What?”
He looks at me like I’m a stranger, and I can’t help questioning if that’s what he wants me to be.
“I’m not staying, Lily. If he wins…I can’t.” His voice cracks at the end.
I recoil like he struck me with his hand rather than his words. The ache is so overwhelming, I have to add some physical space between us, as if that would lessen the hurt.
It doesn’t. Not even by a fraction.
“I thought…” That what? If he loved me, he would be able to put his pride aside?
He shakes his head. “I’ll never live in a town where that mu— man is mayor.”
His words hit me straight in the chest, like an emotional, battering ram threatening to shatter my heart into a thousand pieces.
“But...” What about us?
I don’t realize I said the words aloud until Lorenzo looks up from his clenched fists.
“I like you.” But not love . “I really do, but not enough to change my mind.”
How does this even happen?
I believed that he was the one for me. That yes, while our story wasn’t conventional, it was special in a way that no one could ever compare.
Maybe to you, but never to him.
Lake Wisteria is my home, but Lorenzo…he is my heart. I don’t want to have to choose between one or the other.
“But I want to spend the rest of my life here.”
“I know. But if I lose, I won’t.” He sounds completely drained.
I fail to notice the tears streaming down my face until Lorenzo wipes them away. Seeking comfort in his touch feels like I’m pouring salt in an open wound, so I pull back and wrap my arms around myself.
Pain flashes behind his eyes, but I refuse to think twice about it. He doesn’t get to hurt me like this and feel bad about it afterward.
“Why am I not good enough for you to stay?” The question comes out as a sob, and I hate myself for being vulnerable.
“ No . This has absolutely nothing to do with you.”
I’d like to believe him, but I’ve seen this movie. Heard the same line from men I’ve dated before. Quite a few times actually, and the ending is even shittier this time around.
I try to laugh it off, but with my heart breaking, it comes out wrong.
“I appreciate the attempt to make me feel better, but your decision does have to do with me. Because if you loved me, you’d stay.
You wouldn’t run away like Trevor suggested because you’re supposed to be loyal to me , not an election. ”
His scowl deepens. “It’s…complicated.”
“Not when you love someone, it isn’t.”
He says nothing, and somehow that feels infinitely worse. Because I can’t believe I read him wrong. So wrong in fact, I came up with an entire plan centered around helping him realize his true feelings toward me.
Feelings and actions I mistook for love .
If he truly loved me, then wouldn’t he be trying harder to fight for us, to fight for the town ?
He wouldn’t give up because of one bad debate. He’d be figuring out how to show the town how wrong Trevor was about him.
Un Munoz nunca se rinde …and neither should the person they choose to fall in love with.
It kills me to think of Lorenzo as anything but a strong, capable man willing to do anything to protect me, but it kills me more to see him quitting on me.
“I thought I could do it,” he whispers.
“But you’d rather walk away. You’d rather quit .”
“Yeah, I would. I’d much rather walk away with dignity than stay in this town for nothing,” he snaps back, his voice sharper than a whip.
I flinch. “I’m not nothing .”
He immediately jumps into apologizing. “ Scusami, amore mio. I didn’t mean it like that. You know that, right?”
Now I’m really crying, and there is nothing I can do to delay the tears once they start falling. He pulls me into a hug, and I don’t fight him on it. Instead I melt into his embrace because it’ll never be the same after tonight.
I won’t allow it to be.
“I shouldn’t have said that,” he says, filling the silence when I don’t speak.
“I’m…distraught. Tomorrow we can regroup and come up with a new plan, and by next week we’ll have the polls and post-debate data to review too.
I…” He shakes his head. “It’s no excuse, but my anxiety got the best of me, and I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.”
I don’t ease his worries. I don’t rush to make him feel better. I don’t do anything but stand there in silence, processing how we got to this point.
He tilts my head back so he can get a better look at me. “Lily?” he asks, a crease forming between his brows.
“Yes?”
“Tell me you’re still in this with me.”
I look away and close my eyes. “Until the end of the election, yes.”
“What?”
“You and me…we’re done.”
“Done how?” Each word is punctuated with a pause.
“I plan on following through with our original agreement.” Even if it’s one of the hardest things I have to do . “We can keep up with our public appearances, but if you don’t plan on staying here if you lose, then everything else between us has to stop.”
Tell me you’ve changed your mind , I beg one last time.
Fight for me as hard as you’ve fought for this election.
Whatever flame of hope I carried is snuffed out when he shakes his head. “I won’t make you a promise I can’t keep.”
I want to curl into a ball and cry, because how can he look me in the eyes after everything that’s happened between us and act like it doesn’t matter?
“I see.”
Maybe we were always doomed because neither of us is willing to sacrifice for the other. I won’t leave, and he won’t stay.
It’s a tragedy that would make Shakespeare proud, and one I don’t fully understand.
We were so close to that forever kind of happiness. I could feel it, could see it for the first time with Lorenzo after years spent searching for the right person.
Only to be blindsided in the end.
“I’ll respect your wishes.” He dips his head—a final death sentence to our relationship.
When I’m pulling away, I remember the bracelet he got me, and before he can protest, I unclasp it and hold it out in the palm of my hand.
“What are you doing?” His eyes go wild with…what? Worry? Anger?
Who cares.
“Clarifying where we stand.”
When he doesn’t grab it, I slip it inside his pocket, catching the way it clicks against his father’s dice.
His throat visibly tightens. “It was a gift.”
“One I only accepted because I thought…” Nope. Still can’t say those three words aloud. “I thought wrong.”
Better .
I don’t know how I walk out of that classroom with my head held high. My rib cage feels as if it’s cracking in half, each strenuous breath serving as a painful reminder of what happens when we fall in love with someone who won’t love us back.
I should’ve stuck to our original plan, but no, I had to do something stupid and fall in love with the man who warned me against the very idea.
I thought love could conquer all…only to have it destroy me instead.
And I have no one to blame but myself.
Thankfully I don’t run into anyone in the hallway or school parking lot, so I’m able to keep my cool until I get to my SUV that Lorenzo bought, all because he wanted me to be safe .
But really, who was going to keep me safe from him ?
Once I get inside my car, I check out my reflection in the mirror and wince at the state of my makeup. When I go to clear the worst of it from underneath my eyes, I flinch at my engagement ring.
I want to yank it off and toss it out the window—or maybe ask Julian to bury it in concrete like Dahlia’s old one from her previous relationship. The image of Julian bringing out the concrete mixer draws a smile from me, only for it to die when I realize that’s a likely possibility.
Because should Lorenzo lose, I’ll be expected to let go of everything associated with him, including our dates and—
Daisy .
Oh God. Another sob rips from my throat because we adopted a dog together, and I was too focused on myself to even think about her and what would happen should Lorenzo move away.
Are we supposed to split custody? How would that even work? Would he give her up entirely, or would he decide to take her with him and force me to travel to see her?
Assuming I even want to see him, because the thought of him moving on in another town without me feels like someone carved my heart out of my chest with a spoon.
I lean my head against the steering wheel and cry until I have no more tears left to shed. I’m not sure how long I sit there, losing my shit, but when I look up, the parking lot is empty except for one car.
And the owner leans against the trunk, looking straight at me like I’m the one causing him pain.
He has no right to look at me that way—to make me feel bad for him when I’m the one who put my heart on the line, only to have it rejected.
Mustering up the small amount of pride that I have left, I reverse out of my space and leave Lorenzo in my rearview mirror.
Tomorrow I’ll pick myself back up and get ready to fake it, but tonight I’ll allow myself to break for the very last time.