Chapter 4: Secrets Shared, Hearts Unlocked

Friday night, Lucas called me: "Want to go to the library together this weekend?"

His voice was casual, but I could hear a hint of hope. I smiled, touched by his effort.

I admired his dedication to the act, but had to turn him down. "I’m busy this weekend."

I felt bad, but my schedule was packed. I didn’t want him to think I was blowing him off.

To show I wasn’t brushing him off, I sent him my weekend schedule on Messenger.

I snapped a picture of my planner—color-coded chaos. He sent back a thumbs up.

Saturday morning, I’d be in the lab. Saturday night, I’d be tutoring high schoolers one-on-one.

I squeezed every dollar out of my part-time jobs. Saturdays were always the longest.

"What about the afternoon?"

His reply was almost instant. I could tell he was trying to make it work.

"Visiting my mom at the nursing home."

I hesitated, then sent the message. It wasn’t something I talked about much.

I could sense his disappointment, so I tried, "Want to come with me?"

I held my breath, waiting for his answer. It was a lot to ask, but I didn’t want to shut him out.

He agreed instantly. "Sure."

No hesitation. I smiled, feeling lighter.

Lucas waited for me at the school gate.

He was leaning against the fence, earbuds in, tapping his foot. The sunlight made his hair look almost golden. Like a scene from a movie.

Afternoon sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting a gentle glow on him. Just standing there, he drew everyone’s eyes.

A couple of girls walked by, whispering and giggling. I tried not to feel self-conscious.

I walked up behind and tapped his shoulder.

He jumped a little, then turned, grinning. He handed me a cold drink, condensation dripping down the side.

He turned, handing me a Starbucks iced tea—lychee coconut. I grinned. "You’re the best."

The first sip was heaven. I closed my eyes, savoring the taste.

The sweet drink washed away the summer heat.

I wiped my brow, feeling a little more human. Lucas watched me, a small smile on his lips.

Lucas popped open an umbrella, shading me. "How are we getting there?"

He held it over both of us, careful to keep the sun off my face. I felt a little flutter in my chest.

Embarrassed, I admitted, "We’ll have to walk. It’s only an hour and a half. I’m out of money for the subway this month."

I tried to sound casual, but my cheeks burned. I hated admitting it, but Lucas just nodded.

My monthly budget was two hundred dollars, and with lunch and dinner covered by my dining hall job, it was usually enough—unless something unexpected happened.

I’d learned to stretch every penny, but this month had been rough. I tried to laugh it off.

This month, a lot had happened. Meeting Lucas cost me fifty right off the bat, plus three days of breakfast for him. I really couldn’t afford the subway.

I shrugged, hoping he wouldn’t make a big deal out of it. He just smiled, falling into step beside me.

"Sorry."

He looked genuinely apologetic. I waved him off, not wanting him to feel guilty.

Lucas looked regretful. "I only said fifty because I figured you wouldn’t add me on Venmo for ten bucks."

He rubbed the back of his neck, looking sheepish. I laughed, feeling the tension ease.

"Why did you want my Venmo, anyway?"

I nudged him, teasing. He hesitated, glancing away.

Did I really look that shady?

I grinned, trying to lighten the mood. He just shook his head, a little embarrassed.

He paused, eyes flickering. For a second, I thought he might actually say something real. "I—"

He looked like he wanted to say more, but the words caught in his throat. I decided to give him an out.

I suddenly remembered those ‘grandparent scam’ stories and teased, "Oh, you wanted to sell me your grandma’s secret tea recipe, right?"

He let out a helpless laugh.

The sound was warm and real. I smiled, glad to see him relax.

I shrugged. "Just kidding."

I nudged him with my elbow, and he smiled back, eyes crinkling.

He sent me a hundred bucks, but I only accepted fifty and sent the rest back. "I can’t take money I haven’t earned."

I texted him, "Nice try, but I’m not that easy."

My mom always said you have to have self-respect.

Her words echoed in my head. I’d worked too hard to let pride slip now.

So, my tuition, living expenses, and her nursing home fees all came from the part-time jobs I worked during school breaks.

Every summer, every winter break, I hustled. Babysitting, tutoring, waiting tables—anything to keep us afloat.

I could accept his breakfast and Starbucks as part of our act, but nothing else.

I drew the line at money. I didn’t want to owe anyone, especially not Lucas.

Lucas didn’t argue.

He just smiled, accepting my decision. It made me like him a little more.

The walk was an hour and a half, but the subway would’ve taken just three stops—half an hour.

We passed quiet neighborhoods, little parks, and rows of old brick houses. Lucas pointed out funny lawn ornaments, and I found myself laughing more than I had in weeks.

I went every week, so the staff recognized me.

Nurse Linda waved from the front desk, her smile as warm as ever. She handed me a visitor’s badge and winked at Lucas.

"Jamie, here to see your mom again? She’s in the back garden," said Nurse Linda, smiling.

She always made me feel welcome, like I belonged here.

"Thank you, Linda."

I tucked the badge into my pocket, grateful for her kindness.

I found my mom quickly.

She was in her favorite spot, by the rose bushes. The sun caught the silver in her hair, and for a moment, she looked almost regal.

She was sixty-four, her gray hair neatly pinned back with a black clip, sitting on a bench, staring blankly into space.

Her hands rested in her lap, fingers twisting a tissue. I felt a pang of sadness, but pushed it down.

I walked over and called softly, "Mom."

I knelt beside her, careful not to startle her. My voice was gentle, the way she used to talk to me when I was little.

She turned her gaze to me, her expression wary, almost fearful.

Her eyes darted around, searching for something familiar. My heart squeezed in my chest.

I crouched by her feet. "I’m Jamie."

I smiled, hoping she’d see me—really see me. Sometimes she did. Sometimes she didn’t.

"Our Chloe is only seven, about this tall. How could you be so big?"

She held her hand low, measuring an invisible child. I forced a smile, blinking back tears.

She gestured in the air, face full of suspicion.

I swallowed hard. I’d learned to play along, even when it hurt.

A dull ache filled my chest. Patiently, I said, "Ms. Miller is so smart. I’m a new nurse here. Chloe couldn’t come today, but she asked me to keep you company and play puzzles."

I pulled a puzzle from my bag. My mom’s eyes lit up, clapping like a child. "Yay!"

Her smile was so bright, so genuine. For a moment, she was just my mom again.

I spread the puzzle out on the bench and played with her. Lucas sat quietly beside me.

He didn’t say much, just watched us with gentle eyes. I was grateful for his quiet support.

After a while, my mom’s mood suddenly shifted. She scattered the half-finished puzzle, stood up, and muttered, "Chloe’s out of school. I have to go pick her up."

I checked the time. Four-thirty—the time I used to get out of school in first grade.

I stood up, gently taking her hand. I’d learned to follow her lead, no matter where her mind wandered.

Lowering my voice, I said, "Are you Jamie’s mom? I’m Ms. Wilson. Jamie’s already home."

I slipped into the old role, hoping to ease her worry. Her shoulders relaxed a little.

She stared at me blankly. "She’s home?" Her voice was small.

I nodded firmly.

I looked her in the eye, willing her to believe me. She let out a breath, tension melting away.

"Good."

She looked at me, and after a few seconds, her eyes cleared. She smiled at me with warmth and kindness. "Chloe, you came to see mom!"

For a moment, she was back. My heart soared. I hugged her, blinking back tears.

My heart felt like the clouds had parted after a storm. I hugged her shoulders and rested my head on her thin frame. "Yeah, Mom. Did you have fun today?"

She stroked my hair, humming softly. I closed my eyes, savoring the rare moment.

"I’m happy. Seeing Chloe makes me happy."

Her words wrapped around me like a blanket. I squeezed her hand, not wanting to let go.

She patted my head, then glanced at Lucas. "And who’s this?"

She eyed him curiously, her smile gentle but inquisitive.

"My friend."

I tried to keep it simple, but my cheeks burned. Lucas just smiled, unfazed.

"Chloe’s boyfriend?"

My face burned. "Mom!"

I could feel Lucas grinning beside me. I shot him a warning look.

Lucas played along. "Yes, Ms. Miller, I’m Chloe’s boyfriend. My name’s Lucas Grant."

His voice was warm, respectful. My mom beamed at him, clearly delighted.

My mom looked him over like a future son-in-law. "Lucas Grant, what a good name. And so handsome, too."

She nodded approvingly, and I rolled my eyes. Lucas laughed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Thank you, Ms. Miller."

He smiled warmly, instantly putting people at ease.

My mom nudged me aside and grabbed his hand. "Lucas, please help me make sure Chloe eats properly. When she’s busy, she forgets to eat, and that’s not good for her health."

She squeezed his hand, looking at him with those earnest eyes. I groaned, but Lucas nodded solemnly.

Lucas nodded, gentle as ever. "Don’t worry, Ms. Miller. I’ll take good care of Chloe."

He glanced at me, a little mischief in his eyes. I stuck my tongue out at him.

Watching the two of them act like mother and son, I gritted my teeth.

I tried to look annoyed, but inside, I was a little touched. Lucas was good with people—better than I’d expected.

Who said you could call me Chloe?

I muttered under my breath, but Lucas just grinned. My mom squeezed his hand, happy as could be.

Lucas was usually quiet, but he really knew how to talk to elders. My mom was soon laughing so hard her eyes disappeared. By the end, they’d even made plans to see each other again.

I watched them, a little jealous, a little grateful. Lucas had a way of making people feel safe.

On the way back, it was rush hour. The subway was packed. I couldn’t reach the handrails and got jostled by the crowd.

The train was a wall of bodies. I clung to my bag, trying not to get stepped on. Lucas kept close, shielding me from the worst of it.

Lucas suddenly grabbed my hand and placed it on his bent arm. "Hold on."

His voice was low, steady. I wrapped my fingers around his arm, feeling the warmth through his shirt.

"Thanks."

I tried to act cool, but my heart was racing. He glanced down, his lips twitching in a smile.

His arm wasn’t as skinny as it looked—there was some muscle there. So he was one of those guys who looked slim in clothes but was actually fit.

I tried not to stare, but it was hard to ignore. I looked up, catching his eye. He winked.

As I let my mind wander, more people squeezed in, and I ended up nearly pressed against him.

I could smell his cologne—clean, citrusy, not overpowering. My face was basically buried in his shoulder.

He was over six feet tall; I was just over five-three, so my head was right at his chin. All I could see was the exposed bit of his collarbone above his white T-shirt.

I swallowed, trying not to think about it. The train lurched, and I stumbled. Lucas steadied me, his hand warm against my back.

Awkward.

I cleared my throat, looking for something—anything—to talk about.

To break the tension, I brought up the nursing home. "You probably think my mom seems kind of old, huh?"

Lucas looked surprised, then shook his head. "Not at all."

"Hm?"

He waited, listening. I took a deep breath, deciding to trust him.

"Actually, she adopted me. I was abandoned as a baby, and she found me next to a dumpster while collecting cardboard to recycle. She waited all day, but no one came looking, so she took me to the police. They searched for my birth parents but never found them. The police suggested she either adopt me or send me to an orphanage. She was single and childless, so she adopted me."

I spoke softly, not wanting anyone else to overhear. Lucas listened, his eyes gentle.

For twenty years, she worked herself to the bone to raise me and put me through college. We never had much, but she made sure I never went without.

I smiled, remembering late nights at the kitchen table, her hand on my back as I did homework.

Two years ago, she started showing signs of Alzheimer’s and got lost several times. I couldn’t leave her alone in our hometown, so I brought her to the city, placed her in a nursing home, and worked part-time to pay for it and her meds.

I whispered, "That’s a secret. Don’t tell anyone."

I looked up at him, searching his face for judgment. He just nodded, squeezing my hand.

Lucas didn’t reply. I looked up at him, meeting his deep brown eyes.

His gaze was steady, reassuring. I felt my worries ease a little.

"My parents divorced when I was in middle school. I grew up with my mom. That’s a secret, too."

He spoke quietly, but I could hear the pain in his voice. I nodded, understanding.

I blinked, then we both smiled.

It felt like we’d just shared something important—something that went beyond fake dating or campus drama.

More people got on, and I was pushed right into his arms.

I stumbled, landing against his chest. He steadied me, his grip gentle but firm.

My nose brushed his chest, catching a faint citrus scent—maybe from his clothes, maybe from him.

I closed my eyes for a second, letting myself enjoy the closeness. Lucas didn’t pull away.

He reached out to shield the back of my head.

His hand was careful, protective. I felt safe, even in the crush of bodies.

I froze.

I didn’t move, barely breathed. I could feel his heartbeat, steady and strong.

In the little space he made for me, my heart pounded faster and louder.

I wondered if he could hear it. I hoped not. But honestly? Part of me didn’t care.

Every week, Lucas came with me to the nursing home and made sure I actually ate.

He became a fixture in my routine. I started to look forward to his texts, his quiet company.

After finishing my shift at the dining hall, when most people had left, he’d still be sitting there, waiting.

He’d save me a seat, sometimes bringing a cupcake or a smoothie. I pretended to be annoyed. But I always finished every bite.

"You don’t have to watch me every day. I won’t starve myself."

I tried to sound tough, but he just smiled, unbothered.

"I promised Ms. Miller I’d look after you."

He was relentless. I rolled my eyes. Secretly, though, I liked the attention.

Once he brought my mom into it, I had nothing left to say.

He knew exactly how to win an argument. I gave up, focusing on my food.

Sometimes his roommates would catch us and tease:

They’d nudge each other, waggling their eyebrows. I wanted to hide under the table.

"Lucas, you haven’t eaten with us in two weeks. Got a girlfriend and forgot your bros, huh?"

They acted like middle schoolers, but Lucas took it in stride. He shot them a look that said, "Don’t push your luck."

Lucas would give them a cool glance and tell them to stop blocking the way.

He didn’t raise his voice, but they scattered fast. I tried not to laugh.

As they left, they’d call out to me, "See you, Mrs. Grant!"

I blushed so hard I thought my ears would catch fire. Lucas just grinned, enjoying my embarrassment.

I’d just bury my face in my food, blushing.

I poked at my mac and cheese, hoping they’d forget about me. Yeah, no such luck.