For the rest of the meal, Lara focused on eating, forcing herself to ignore the warmth that had briefly settled in her chest. It was dangerous—this fleeting, foolish hope. She reminded herself over and over: It wasn’t real. It was never real.
Her mother continued chatting happily, occasionally directing questions at Lucas, while Lara’s father remained quiet, eating in his usual composed manner. Lucas barely responded beyond polite nods, but that didn’t seem to dampen her mother’s enthusiasm. Lara, on the other hand, felt like she was just going through the motions, her body present but her heart elsewhere.
She barely tasted the food. She wasn’t even sure if she was full, but she forced herself to swallow bite after bite, anything to keep her emotions at bay.
When the meal ended, they mo
