Page 142 of Try Line Hearts
And now here he was, living it.
Self-fulfilling, like the universe had taken one look at his stubbornness and saidfine—if you won’t step toward it willingly, we’ll put it directly in your hands.
Eli’s voice nudged him back.
“You good?” Eli asked. “I told Mum I’d wait ‘til the last.”
Lucas stared at him as if it were even a question. “Of course. I’d be offended otherwise.”
Eli’s smile flickered, small and grateful. “Good.”
They stood for a minute, watching the Kaines gather themselves. Mereana pressed a tissue to her eyes as if the tears were misbehaving. Kiri waved enthusiastically at Lucas, even though he was standing right there, as if waving would make him feel less like he was about to lose something.
Kiri called, too loudly, “Don’t cry, Byrne! We like you better when you’re scary.”
Mereana hissed her name. “Kiri!”
Kiri shrugged, unapologetic. “What? He looks like he’s about to melt into the floor.”
Lucas exhaled a laugh and lifted his hand in a small wave, acknowledging the absurdity.
Eli leaned close. “They’ll text you. Constantly.”
“I’m prepared.”
“You say that now.”
Lucas’s phone buzzed in his pocket just from the vibration of air, as if the universe was mocking him. He didn’t take it out. Not tonight. Tonight belonged to endings done gently, not to whatever headlines were still circling like gulls.
The line thinned again. Families hugged. Hands touched shoulders. People stepped back and then forward again like they couldn’t quite commit to the separation.
Lucas found himself studying Eli’s family the way he’d studied opposition teams all his life—watching patterns, trying to predict what would happen next.
But this wasn’t something you could strategize. This was just love, messy and real and loud in its own quiet way.
Eli returned, hesitated, then kissed him again—soft, brief, public in the quietest possible way—and turned to join his family.
Lucas watched him go, heart full in a way that still startled him.
He watched Eli become son again for a moment; standing a little straighter, shoulders broad under his coat, accepting Mereana’s hands on his cheeks, accepting Hemi’s firm grip on his shoulder that lingered half a second longer than a handshake should.
He watched Kiri throw her arms around him like she was trying to crack his ribs, and Eli laughing into her hair.
He watched the aunties fuss with Eli’s scarf like he was eight years old and not a professional athlete with national headlines still orbiting him.
And he realized, with a small, sharp tenderness, that he was watching his own future too.
Because they hadn’t treated him like a scandal when they’d met him.
They’d treated him like family.
Not cautiously or politely. Not with distance.
They’d adopted him the way big families did—without paperwork, without ceremony. One day you were just there, and then you were theirs.
Lucas’s chest squeezed.
He turned back to the glass as Eli’s family disappeared into the jetway. The plane waited.
