We Talk in Fragments

[Still in Alex's POV]

Lucas doesn't move for a while. Just stands there like he's still hearing Camila's voice echo in the walls.

I sit back down, fingers threading through my hair. My heart hasn't slowed since she left.

"You good?" I ask, voice low, not looking at him.

He scoffs. "No. Are you?"

"No."

The fridge hums again. The most loyal character in this whole damn story.

Lucas drags a hand down his face. "I didn't think she'd go that hard."

"She's always like that," I mutter. "When she cares."

"Yeah," he says, looking away. "I can tell."

More silence.

Then: "Was she right?"

I look at him now. He's not challenging me. Not defensive. Just—bare.

"About what?"

"Everything."

I breathe out through my nose, slow. "Yeah. She was."

He nods, like he expected that. Like he's already said it to himself in the mirror a dozen times but needed someone else to confirm it.

"I'm sorry," he says. "For leaving. For freezing you out. For thinking disappearing was easier than staying."

"I know," I reply. "But that doesn't make it okay."

"I don't expect it to."

I study him. "Then why come back?"

Lucas looks at me for a long time. Then down at the floor.

"I missed you," he says. "And I hated who I was becoming. Thought maybe if I came back, I could—fix it."

"You can't fix the past."

"No," he agrees. "But maybe I can stop messing up the future."

We sit with that.

I shift in my chair. "Nick's been... holding this house together. Quietly. Like he's afraid if he makes too much noise, everything will fall."

"I see it," Lucas says. "And it kills me."

"Then do something about it."

"I will," he says. "I swear. But Alex…"

"Yeah?"

"You're not off the hook either."

I glance at him.

"I know," I say. "I know I've been… half in, half out. That's not fair to him. Or to me."

Lucas raises an eyebrow. "You love him?"

The question hangs in the air like smoke. I let it choke me for a second before answering.

"I don't know if I've ever loved someone," I admit. "Not like this. Not in a way that makes me want to stay. But Nick? He makes me want to try."

Lucas nods slowly. "Then try."

A key rattles in the front door.

We freeze. Like idiots caught stealing cookies.

Then the door opens and Nick steps inside, plastic bags hanging from his arms.

He spots us immediately, clocking the tension like it's written on the walls.

"Uh… hey," he says cautiously. "Did I miss a fight?"

Lucas offers a tired smile. "Kinda."

"Camila said she dropped off my phone—"

"She did," I cut in. "And then she emotionally suplexed us."

Nick blinks. "That sounds like her."

He walks past us to the kitchen, setting the bags on the counter. He looks over his shoulder, careful. "You two okay?"

I look at Lucas. He nods at me.

I swallow hard. "Can we talk?" I ask Nick. "Just us?"

Lucas steps back immediately, like he's been waiting for this. "I'll be upstairs."

Nick watches him go, then turns to me, guarded. "What's going on?"

I pull out the chair across from mine.

He doesn't sit.

"I've been an idiot," I start. "And a coward. And I'm sorry."

Nick's eyes narrow slightly. Not angry. Just unsure.

"That kiss the other day," I continue. "It meant something. To me. But I freaked out and didn't know what to do with it. So I froze."

Nick crosses his arms. "You didn't just freeze. You avoided me. Again."

"I know," I say, quick. "And you didn't deserve that."

He finally sits. "So what now?"

"I'm not saying I have it all figured out," I admit. "But I'm tired of pretending I don't care. I do. I care about you more than I know how to explain. I want to stop running from that. If you'll let me."

Nick stares at me for a long time.

Then he says, softly: "I don't want promises you can't keep."

"I'm not making one," I say. "I'm asking for a chance."

He looks down. Breathes out. "Okay."

"Okay?"

He nods. "Yeah. One chance."

A flicker of hope lights in my chest. Fragile, but real.

We sit there. Quiet. Closer than we were yesterday.

And maybe tomorrow… closer still.