Page 145 of Try Line Hearts
They’d made Eli’s flat too small by sheer force of personality. Aunties in the kitchen. Hemi quietly helping replace the refrigerator door that had taken the brunt of emotions. Kiri taking Lucas’s phone out of his hand and changing his social media privacy settings while scolding him for having “the digital survival skills of a 90-year-old.”
Mereana had hugged Lucas like he belonged there.
When Lucas had tried to apologize for the chaos, for the inconvenience, for being a “situation,” Mereana had taken his face in her hands and said, very firmly, “You are not a problem to manage.”
Lucas had cried anyway. Quietly. Like someone learning a new language.
Maeve had come over that same night and taken one look at the living room full of Kaine relatives and said, delighted, “Oh my God. It’s a whole army.”
Kiri had sized Maeve up, grinned, and said, “You’re the friend, eh? The loud one.”
Maeve had beamed. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
They’d bonded instantly, terrifyingly. Within ten minutes they were in Eli’s kitchen drinking Lucas’s whiskey and discussing, with alarming seriousness, whether they could “accidentally” run Declan over with a rental car and claim it was the rain.
Lucas had stood in the doorway watching them like a man witnessing a natural disaster form.
Eli had leaned in and murmured, “We were worried about the wrong people taking over the world.”
Maeve had stayed a week after that visit, not because Lucas needed babysitting—though he probably did—but because she was Maeve and she loved him like it was a duty.
When she finally left, she’d kissed Lucas’s cheek and said, “You don’t get to waste this.”
Lucas had nodded, throat tight.
He’d been trying not to.
And now, tonight—standing at the airport while Eli’s family flew home—Lucas felt the shape of it.
What he’d lost.
What he’d gained.
It wasn’t clean. It wasn’t fair. He didn’t get a neat narrative where his parents came around in the end, and everyone clapped. Somepeople didn’t come around. Some people chose their fear and called it faith.
Lucas couldn’t control that.
But he could control what he chose next.
He could choose to be loved, even if it came from places he hadn’t expected.
Eli glanced over as they reached the exit doors. “You went quiet.”
Lucas exhaled. “Just… thinking.”
“That’s dangerous territory for you,” Eli said automatically, and then softened. “What’s going on in that head?”
Lucas paused, letting the cold night air hit his face as the doors slid open. Dublin smelled like damp stone and traffic and river, like a city that had survived too much to be impressed by drama.
“I’m sad,” Lucas admitted. “About them leaving.”
Eli nodded. “Me too.”
“And I’m…” Lucas hesitated, the words sticking. “I’m grateful. And it makes me feel guilty that I’m grateful.”
Eli stopped walking.
Lucas stopped too, automatically.
