Chapter 43 Luke
Luke
I was sitting at a dinner table with my parents and a few of their friends.
My favorite poached salmon in coconut-lime sauce was served, but my appetite couldn’t be any worse.
I hated these monthly dinners. Their main goal was to brag about achievements rather than catch up.
Just another way to pretend we were a normal functioning family.
Unfortunately, tonight we couldn’t even do that, because once we were alone again, snide comments filled the room.
It was like they were feeding on each other’s hate.
I was so used to it by now I mostly tuned it out.
Tonight was no exception for my parents’ show of character. The only thing on my mind, however, was the girl whose existence had become my distraction every step of the way. The one who had stolen my attention, and, dare I say, my heart.
I went to see her the other day, but as soon as I saw her through the window, I recognized the faintest trace of sadness in her features.
It wasn’t obvious, but rather subtle. I’d learned her too well.
I could see through the patience in her words, the polite smiles she reserved for the world.
She gave me some real ones on the trip, and it was enough to see that the ones she wore now felt performative and distant.
And I knew she needed them because of me.
A heaviness clung to my chest, like I couldn’t fully breathe in. I felt like the Grinch whose heart was trying to grow three sizes bigger but couldn’t.
I didn’t know what was holding me back, but I knew this was pure torture for me. Similar to the one I was experiencing at the dinner table right now. Salmon tasted like cardboard vomit, and I wanted to leave.
I excused myself and went to the kitchen.
Leaning back at the sink, I contemplated the interior.
I always liked the aesthetic of this place, but it always felt cold.
The kitchen should have been filled with pancake Sundays, and breakfast rush in the morning, right before leaving for school.
No trace of this here. Just wasted potential.
I raised the glass to my lips just as Mom came in.
“There you are, honey. Where’d you go?” Her words were sweetness laced with irritation.
“To top off my glass,” I said, and right behind her, my dad’s silver hair appeared in the room.
“I was telling our friends all about your promotion,” she said. “But you should be the one who explains all the details. They must finally recognize all the hours you’ve been putting in. I mean, some people might just coast along for years in their career, but not you. You’ve got drive.”
“I don’t think anyone coasts in finance, Kimberly.” Dad rubbed his temple, clearly exhausted.
“Well, at least someone sees his potential. Others struggle with foresight.”
“It’s just a slight raise,” I said, matching my dad’s emotions.
“A raise you deserve, even if celebrations are hard to plan lately.”
Dad sighed in the corner. “If this is about the beach house again, Kimberly, just say it. Trade weeks or towels or whatever it is this time.”
She gave him a thin smile. “Not everything’s a business deal, Oliver. Some of us care about family memories.”
“If I didn’t care about family memories, I wouldn’t still be in this house,” he muttered. “Believe me, I’d rather be anywhere else.”
“How was I so lucky with you?” Mom turned to me, brushing my suit. “It’s a wonder you came out like that, considering your father.”
“Kimberly, please save your uneducated guesses for your art world,” Dad said, barely holding back.
I turned toward the window, leaving my parents to insult each other in the background. I’ve listened to these kinds of conversations all my life. Usually, I forced myself to brush it off, but this time the walls in my mind were closing in on me until I couldn’t take it anymore.
“At least I know how to balance priorities without turning every conversation into a performance.”
“Oh my God, enough,” I snapped, ignoring that we had guests less than twenty feet away. My knuckles turned white, gripping the side of the counter.
I’d always avoided love, terrified it would eventually dissolve into bickering and insults, two people making a living hell out of each other’s lives.
But as I listened to them, something occurred to me—Hazel would never be like that.
She’d never be this span of evil who makes the other person feel awful, hitting where it hurts the most, just because she could.
I turned to find my mother’s shocked face and my father’s confusion at my outburst.
“Hazel was right. You have molded me into this person who doesn’t want a relationship. Because this—” I gestured to the absurd triangle where I was always in the middle, “—this is all I’ve ever seen.”
“Luke, don’t make a scene,” Kimberly scolded me like I was five years old again. I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Of course. Let’s keep up appearances, right? Show everyone what a perfect family we are.” My words sliced through the air. “Goddammit, why are you even together? Do you love each other at all?”
Finally, I let out the truth that had been choking me for years. “Why not just go your separate ways?”
A mixture of frustration, shame, and guilt flickered across their faces. For once, Kimberly and Oliver were speechless, a silence so rare it felt like the world had tilted.
“Luke, honey,” she finally spoke, her voice faltering. “Relationships are... complicated.”
“Are they?” I asked, my voice rising. “Because I’ve convinced myself they’re not worth it.
All I keep hearing in my head is you two hating each other, shouting, filling every quiet space.
You two have been ingrained in my brain.
” The silence that followed was louder than any argument we’ve ever had.
“Figure out if you even want to be together. And if not, then divorce. Either way, stop including me in your seventh circle of hell, fighting your battles, dividing assets, vouching for each other’s bullshit.
Otherwise, I’m done. Come talk to me when you want to act like parents, and instead of me acting as your lawyer. ”
I went for the door, but stopped, my hand hovering over the knob.
“Do you even know me?” The words escaped, raw and jagged, from some deep place I’d tried to bury.
“Son, of course, we know you,” Oliver replied, his voice calm, but the weight in his eyes betrayed him.
“Do you know I’m in love?” I said, my voice shaking as the words finally left me. “And I hate myself for it. Because somewhere along the way, I convinced myself I’m not capable of giving her what she deserves.”
We’d never had a conversation like this, but it was too late now.
I wasn’t trying to pin it all on them, too; that’s never been my style.
I’ve always been the one who owns his shit—at work, in life, even when it’s inconvenient.
Especially then. But somehow I’d never looked close enough to see where this part of me was born. Not until now.
“I don’t want to be like you,” I said, quieter this time.
They locked eyes, and for the first time, I thought I saw something—regret, maybe shame. Like the weight of my words finally landed, but whatever it was, it vanished too quickly.
This moment, for sure, was the low point of our relationship, toxic to its core, and yet, my thoughts went to Hazel and her family.
Her dad, specifically. How he built this wall between them.
Her ex, who had let her drown in her sorrows after her mom died.
My brain couldn’t comprehend how the people closest to her didn’t want her, when I was barely managing to make it through the day.
I let out a weary sigh. “I’m going home.”
“Luke, you can’t leave the party. Everybody will—” Kimberly said, but I was already out the door.
“Let him go,” I heard my father’s vague, regretful voice saying behind me.
I grabbed my jacket and headed straight for my car without saying goodbye. Fifteen minutes later, I was at a nearby gas station, filling up the tank.
As I pulled out my wallet, my fingers brushed the worn paper tucked inside. An old, creased Monopoly bill I’d gotten with my coffee yesterday. I turned it over and glanced at Hazel’s handwriting.
-All debts settled, except for the final night. No amount of money can cover that.
I stared at it, a quiet ache blooming in my chest. Damn her. Even her goodbyes knew how to stay behind.
The memory of Hazel at the airport, turning her back on me, hit me. The way I stood there pretending strength, while deep down, I was the one who walked away from the only thing that ever really felt like home.
The worst part was my own hypocrisy. How could I sit there, furious at anyone pushing Hazel away, taking her for granted, when I had done exactly the same?
Worse, I’d had the audacity to scold her for her choices. Like mine weren’t a complete fucking mess.
I was knee-deep in self-loathing when a familiar voice cut through.
“Luke?”
Long legs, a fitted skirt, and dark hair over one shoulder greeted me. Vanessa.
“Oh, hey,” I said flatly. I was too drained to pretend.
“You haven’t answered my messages,” she said, but there was no hurt or insult in her voice. More like a statement.
“Been busy. Sorry,” I muttered, paying for the gas, ready to leave, when she spoke again.
“Maybe you’ve got time now?” she asked, gesturing toward a pair of worn benches under the station’s flickering lights. It was late, and I wasn’t in the mood for anything with her. To be honest, it had nothing to do with the time.
“Listen,” I began, forcing the words out. “Maybe I should’ve let you know sooner, but... I don’t think we should keep doing this. I just...” I sighed, my shoulders heavy with weariness. “I don’t have the room for it in me anymore.”
It was the closest I could get to the truth.
She held my gaze a beat longer, then gave a slow, almost amused smile.
“Let’s talk.”