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"It’s over, Lisa."Beau watched the face of the woman sitting opposite him, searching her eyes for a clue as to how she was going to react. She wasn’t known for her level head when it came to emotional reactions.
“Excuse me? I thought you just said—”
"I think we should see other people." His tone was firm, leaving her with no other choice but to listen to him.
Lisa pressed her lips together in a tight line. "What?"
Squeezing his hands together in front of him, he added, "Things haven't been right for a while. I think you know this too."
"I don't understand." Her voice was strangely hard. "I thought things were going well."
If she thought them having sex once every two weeks was an indication of things going well, he pitied her. "I'm sorry." There was nothing else he could think to say. He didn't want to be the asshole in this situation, but he didn't believe in prolonging the inevitable.
Lisa's eyes narrowed on his face. "Is there someone else?"
"What? No."
Her nostrils flared. "If I find out you're lying to me—”
"There isn't anyone else," he said firmly, ensuring she could see the truth in his eyes. He may have been terrible at commitment, but he still believed in monogamy. "I wouldn't disrespect you like that."
Folding her arms, Lisa held his gaze and shook her head. "I thought things were going well," she repeated, more softly this time. He was relieved to see she was beginning to accept it.
"I am sorry," he murmured. “Let me walk you out.”
With a curt nod, she picked up her handbag and walked to the front door. Following her out, he held the door open for her. “Goodbye, Lisa.”
“Whatever,” she muttered, walking down the path to her car. He let out a deep sigh and shut the door.
"Beau?"
He spun around at the sound of his mom's voice. "I'm coming, Mom," he called back. Walking down the dim hall, he pushed into his mother's bedroom and found her trying to prop herself up in bed. He rushed to her side, taking her too thin arm and helping her into a sitting position. His fingers could fit around the entire circumference of her upper arm now, proof that the disease was slowly strangling her frail body.
"You need to take it easy," he told her gently, ensuring her pillow was providing enough support for her head. “The doctor said you had to rest.”
He settled the blankets more firmly around her waist and looked his mom over. The cancer had come out of nowhere nearly four years ago, blindsiding them both. One day she'd complained of feeling tired, and it seemed that the next she was bed-bound, fighting the cancer through a cocktail of drugs and an aggressive chemotherapy regime. About a month ago, she decided she didn’t want to keep doing this—the drugs, the nausea, the fatigue—and chose to stop all treatment. Beau could understand her decision and supported her one hundred percent. He’d watched how battered her body and soul had become.
Her warm, soft hand on his face jolted him from his thoughts. His eyes darted to hers. "Sorry. What did you say?"
She smiled gently. "I asked if that was Lisa I heard outside." Beau grimaced. "What? What was that face for?"
He smoothed his expression. "It was nothing. And yes, it was Lisa."
His mom's smile brightened. "How is she?"
"Fine, Mom." He tried not to sound terse.
"I do like her, Beau," she added, giving him a knowing smile. "I know it hasn’t been long, but do you think you might want to settle down soon? You know I'd love to have some grandchildren running around this old house."
He knew she wasn’t going to last that long, but still, he smiled gently. "Mom," he started, taking her hand in his. She looked at her paper-thin skin, at her veins raised and stark. "We broke up." He looked up as he said the words, seeing the disappointment in her eyes. "We weren't right together," he added softly.
She grunted softly, neither agreeing nor chastising him. She let out a sigh. "Beau—" she began, but he stopped her.
"I know, Mom. I just..." He blew out a sigh. "I just want to be sure."
"You were sure about Evangeline."
