CHAPTER 188: COMFORT (GT)

He turned again, searching Lukas’s face, but Lukas had shifted slightly — just enough so the streetlight cast a shadow over the tremble in his eyes.

Javi mistook the silence for calm. He didn’t see how Lukas’s jaw clenched. He didn’t see how Lukas bit the inside of his cheek to stop his voice from cracking. He didn’t see the tears gathering at the corners of his eyes, threatening to slide down his face if he so much as blinked.

"At that moment," Javi continued, "I was angry. Because if she can call now, after seeing you on TV, it means she could have tried before. Years ago. She had a way to reach out. She just... didn’t. Until now."

Lukas bit the inside of his lip harder. A tiny tremor shook the corner of his mouth, and he quickly turned his head further away, pretending to look at something in the bushes.

"I don’t think it’s money," Javi added quickly. "Her family is well-off. She’s well-off. She’s a postdoc at the University of Manchester. So no, I don’t think she’s looking for financial gain. But I was angry anyway."

Javi’s voice softened, the anger giving way to something more exhausted.

"But after talking to Anne... after calming down... I realized I couldn’t hide this from you. You had the right to know. You deserved to know. And I needed to give you the chance to make your own decision."

He stopped walking and turned, calling softly, "Lukas?"

Lukas didn’t trust his voice. He kept staring at the far side of the park, where the lamps were dimmer and the shadows were deeper. When he finally managed to speak, it broke:

"...yeah?"

Javi heard it instantly.

He stepped forward without hesitation and wrapped his arms around his son. Lukas let him, pressing his forehead into Javi’s shoulder, eyes squeezed shut as two or three tears slipped free—warm, unwanted—and disappeared into his jacket.

"I’m here," Javi murmured. "It’s okay."

They stood like that for a few seconds—long enough for Lukas to breathe, to gather himself, to wipe his cheeks discreetly when Javi finally loosened the hug.

"I’m fine," Lukas said quietly, clearing his throat. "Just... a lot. At once."

"I know," Javi said. "We can stop here if you want. We don’t have to talk about the rest tonight."

"No," Lukas said, shaking his head. "I want to know. I deserve to know."

Javi nodded.

They walked slowly to a nearby bench beneath one of the park lamps and took a seat, their breaths fogging lightly in the chilly air.

"Ask me anything," Javi said gently. "I’ll answer everything I can."

And Lukas did.

He asked how they met.

What she was like.

What kind of person she had been.

What happened between them.

How she left.

Why she left.

Why she never came back.

What she wrote.

What she promised.

What she broke.

What she wanted now.

And Javi answered. Everything. Honestly. Simply. Carefully.

The more Lukas heard, the more questions he had. The more answers he got, the heavier the night felt. He listened without interrupting, without judging, without crying again — but each answer carved a new line of confusion, understanding, and ache inside him.

After nearly half an hour of this quiet exchange, Javi finally asked the question he had been dreading:

"Do you... want to meet her?"

It was a question that should’ve gotten an immediate answer. A loud yes. A desperate yes. A younger version of Lukas—the one from his previous life—would’ve said yes before Javi finished the sentence.

But this Lukas didn’t answer right away.

He stared down at his hands. Then at the grass. Then at nothing.

"I... don’t know," he admitted softly. "I need to think about it."

Javi nodded. "There’s no rush. No pressure. Whatever you choose, I’ll support you."

They sat again in silence, letting the wind whistle faintly past them.

After a few minutes, Javi let out a small, exaggerated shiver. "Damn, it’s windy," he muttered, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

Lukas huffed a tiny laugh. "It’s windy in Darmstadt too, you know. So what’s your point?"

"Oh, really?" Javi replied, feigning surprise.

"You’re so full of it," Lukas said, shaking his head as he stood up.

Javi chuckled, and they both started walking back toward the house — two shadows moving side by side under the Bremen streetlights.

The night still felt heavy.

But somehow, it also felt lighter than before.

* * *

That same night, across the country in Darmstadt, the Gimenez apartment was quiet. The soft hum of the heater, the occasional footsteps of Carlos in the living room, the clatter of dishes downstairs—everything felt normal. Upstairs, behind the closed door of her neatly arranged bedroom, Joanna sat at her desk, hunched slightly over her open Chemistry workbook.

Her hair was tied loosely in a bun, a pencil tucked behind her ear, her brows drawn together in focus as she balanced a long redox equation. Stoichiometry had always been her strongest topic, but tonight she had to reread the questions multiple times—her mind kept drifting. She scribbled something on her notepad, erased it, rewrote it, then leaned back in her chair with a sigh.

Just then, her phone chimed with a single notification.

She normally puts her phone on DND before studying, and she would only be notified of a few people’s messages while on DND. The only other person in that list of allowed contacts that wasn’t currently at the same house with her was Lukas.

She immediately reached for her phone, a tiny smile tugging at her lips before she even opened the message.

Lukas: Hey, wyd

It was a simple and causal message, but her heart warmed anyway.

She typed quickly.

Joanna: Not much, studying a bit before bed. You? How’re you after the draw?

His reply came twenty seconds later.

Lukas: I am fine.

That stopped her.

He never typed ’I am’. Never. Not once in their entire relationship. It was always ’I’m’, always natural, always effortless. That extra spacing, that unexpectedly stiff phrasing, although some might consider it insignificant, but she knew him too well. Something was wrong.

Before her rational brain could tell her she was overthinking, her thumb was already tapping FaceTime.

The call rang once.

Twice.

Three times.

Then his face appeared.

Lukas lay in a darkened room, the faint bedside lamp casting a soft gold light over half his face. He was propped up against the headboard, wrapped in a blanket like he was trying to shield himself from the world. His hair was still damp from the shower, messy in a way she found annoyingly perfect. But more importantly — his eyes looked tired. Not physically exhausted, but emotionally... heavy.

"Hey," she said softly, adjusting her headset.

But when he saw her — the expression on his face changed completely. His brows lifted faintly, his lips parted, and his entire body seemed to exhale in relief.

Joanna was sitting on her bed now, cross-legged in a lotus position. She wore a white thin-strapped singlet — simple, comfortable, modest — but the way the soft fabric hugged her figure and the way the lamplight gave her skin a warm glow made her look effortlessly beautiful. Her hair framed her face just right. She wasn’t trying, but she didn’t need to.

Lukas blinked slowly, then let out a small breathless laugh.

"Well," he said, smiling for the first time all night, "now I feel completely fine."

Joanna’s cheeks immediately felt flushed and she smiled. She reached forward, picked her phone up from the headboard and pulled it a little closer so he was now seeing her more clearly.

"And why," she said, narrowing her eyes playfully, "weren’t you fine before?"

The smile on his face faded into something softer, tender, vulnerable.

"It’s... family stuff," he said quietly. "I’ll tell you everything when next we see each other. But it’s a lot. And... yeah."

"I’m coming to Frankfurt tomorrow," Joanna said, without hesitation.