33 Praying For the Light I See in Your Eyes

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Bobby assesses the damage, Hope loses her shit, and Chels gives some kind of (good?) advice. There's also some naughtiness.

***


Birds chirped overhead. Morning dew gleamed from the needles of the Aleppo Pines. Pink rays of sunlight unfurled from the horizon, opening like a summer flower.

It was the kind of morning Bobby would have loved to share with someone. He absently stroked a hand over the bedding beside him. It was as cool and empty as it had been when he'd awoken.

It hurt. Everything hurt. And the longer he stayed alone in bed, the worse he felt, but he couldn't bring himself to get up. His exhaustion was more than physical. He was wrung out like a dish towel. All he could do was lay there, thinking about Lili's resigned voice the night before. Replaying what she said. You can be sorry all you want. It doesn't change the way you treated me today.

All is not forgiven.

When he was young, he'd wanted to be a magician. Sadly, he wasn't particularly good at illusions. He could master the beginnings of tricks, but he could never deliver the big finish. He'd drop the hidden card or forget how to pull the rings apart. And eventually he gave up on it. With Lili, he'd managed to make magic. Real magic. He'd convinced the most spectacular girl in the world to want him. To care for him. To see him as someone special and worthwhile and beautiful in ways he couldn't see himself. But at the last moment, he'd picked the wrong card, and what had been beautiful and real now felt like another failed illusion.

Damn his thoughtless words and frightened heart. Why couldn't he trust what they had—trust her?

Ugh, he couldn't stand his own mind. He forced himself to get up and walk around. The remnants of the party hadn't been cleaned up yet, so the cups and bucket Lili had chucked were still on the ground. The little neon heart still floated in the pool and the bottle of pink champagne was half in the grass, scuffed but otherwise unscathed, despite Lili's fierce anger.

Deserved anger.

Shame filled him. He'd gone on the offensive, just like his mum. Snarling. Swearing. Accusing her of stringing Lucas along. And then he'd called her self-righteous. Saint Lili. Jesus fucking Christ. It was so unfair of him. She was one of the most empathetic people he'd ever met. At every turn, she'd dug inside of him, searching for the best parts. And she didn't just find them. She pulled them from the darkness and held them up to the light so he could see them too. But he hadn't done the same. Instead he found the most beautiful part of her, her wide-open heart, and he'd twisted it into something ugly. Worse yet, he'd become just another in the long list of people who had done the same. Calling her disingenuous and spitting her trust back at her feet.

He swallowed the bitter pain of his stupidity, and slowly picked everything up. The bucket. The cups. He got on his belly and used a kitchen spoon to fish the heart out of the pool. He stared at the little neon light. For some reason he didn't want to put it on the table with all the refuse to be swept away. So, he tiptoed into the bedroom, where the wildebeest snores rivaled the morning symphony of the birds, and no one had yet stirred. He tucked the neon heart away in the back of his cubby.

After that, he went through the motions of his morning routine. Shower. Shave. Dress. Make a brew. He shambled like a zombie all morning, and never saw Lili once. Which was clearly intentional on her part.

Avoidance seemed to be the name of the game for everyone though, not just Lili. Lottie avoided Marisol. Chelsea avoided Lottie. Hope and Noah were avoiding each other. And Priya did her best to avoid everyone.

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