Lara spent the weekend at her parents’ house.
No one mentioned Lucas—not even once. Not in passing, not even accidentally. It was as if they had all silently agreed to erase him from conversation, like the name itself was forbidden. As if he had never existed at all.
She wasn’t sure if they were all just being considerate... or if they were just afraid that hearing his name would still hurt her. That uttering it might reopen wounds they weren’t sure had healed.
But the truth was… Lara was okay.
She had already made peace with her feelings for Lucas, long before their talk the night before. She might not be fully healed, but she wasn’t hurting anymore. Not the way she used to. The sharp edges of the hurt had dulled, replaced by something steadier. In fact, she felt more like herself than she had in a long time.
She didn’t need them to walk on eggshells around her, but she appreciated the quiet understanding anyway.
Her mother, in particular, made a gentle effort to keep her distracted.
