Selena’s POV
At Lucas Favorite Diner
I knew something was off when Lucas didn’t text back.
No dumb emojis. No late-night “you up?” No sarcasm.
Nothing.
Three days.
I’d called twice. Left two voicemails. The last one was a shout-whisper combo while hiding in a bathroom stall. Nothing.
He always called back. Even when he was pissed. Even when I was.
I zipped my jacket, pulled my hood up, and headed to the one place I knew he’d crawl to when s**t got bad—Lou’s Diner. The food was greasy, the booths were cracked, and the coffee tasted like burnt dirt. But it was his spot.
And sure enough, he was there.
Sort of.
“Lucas?” I froze halfway across the room.
He sat in the back booth, hoodie low, nursing a cup of coffee like it owed him child support.
His cheek was swollen. Red. Purple c
