Chapter 36
830 Words
Alice pov
Saturday afternoon, Dad walked into the living room holding a card, looking thoughtful.
“Alice,” he said, “an old friend of mine invited us to dinner tonight. It’s been years since we’ve seen each other.”
I glanced up from my book. “Who is it?”
“His name’s Richard Stone. We were schoolmates back in the day.”
Stone?
My stomach turned slightly at the familiarity of the name—but I brushed it off. Coincidence, probably.
I got dressed in something simple—nothing flashy, just a neat navy dress. We arrived at a large estate just outside town. The kind with neatly trimmed hedges, stone pillars, and the kind of quiet that screamed *money.*
When the front door opened, I nearly lost my balance.
*Lucas.*
He looked equally surprised—but unlike me, he recovered quickly.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered.
Lucas grinned. “What, are you following me now?”
I gave him a sharp look. “Are *you* following *me*?”
He gave a lazy shrug and stepped aside to let us in. “This is my house. But by all means, welcome to it.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Unbelievable.”
He ignored me completely, turned, and walked into the house like I hadn’t said a thing.
My dad leaned over and whispered, “Do you two know each other?”
“Yeah,” I said under my breath. “Too well.”
And just like that, dinner turned into something far more complicated than I ever expected.
The inside of the house was everything I expected—grand, polished, expensive. The kind of place that felt like a museum. But it didn’t impress me. Not anymore.
Lucas led the way, saying nothing. His back straight, hands in his pockets, like he wasn’t bothered at all that I was standing in his house.
Typical.
We entered the sitting room, and there he was—Mr. Richard Stone. Tall, charming, warm smile. He stood and embraced my dad like they were brothers.
“Edward! After all these years!”
“Rich,” my dad laughed. “Still looking like a politician.”
They shared a long handshake and started chatting like time had never passed. It was strange—seeing Dad so relaxed, and Mr. Stone so kind. Nothing like the snobby image I imagined from Lucas' background.
“Come, come,” Mr. Stone said, waving us to the dining area. “Dinner’s ready.”
I took a seat at the long table, Lucas right across from me.
Great.
He leaned back casually. “So, your dad and my dad are basically best friends.”
“Looks that way,” I muttered.
He smirked. “Awkward.”
I glared at him. “Only because you’re here.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t breathe too loudly.”
I rolled my eyes and looked away.
But then, I caught him glancing at me—not smug, not teasing. Just quiet.
It lasted only a second before he looked down at his plate.
Maybe this dinner wasn’t going to be as shallow as I thought.
But I still wasn’t letting my guard down.
Not with *him*.
Dinner was… surprisingly warm.
The table was full of laughter—mostly from our dads. They were lost in old memories, talking about boarding school, failed science projects, and trouble they’d gotten into as teens. It was hard not to smile watching them.
Lucas stayed quiet for the most part, pushing food around his plate, occasionally chiming in with a sarcastic comment here and there. But even that was milder than usual.
“So, Richard,” my dad asked between bites, “is your wife around? I was hoping to meet her.”
Lucas looked up too, like even *he* wasn’t sure what the answer would be.
Mr. Stone gave a gentle smile. “Ah, Catherine is away at the moment. Business trip. She’s helping manage one of our offices in the U.S.”
“Oh,” Dad nodded. “Still just as sharp and driven, I see.”
“Always,” Mr. Stone chuckled. “She never really slows down.”
Lucas didn’t say a word. He just stared at his water glass.
I glanced at him, studying the quiet shift in his expression. Something about the mention of his mum had clearly put a dent in his mood. But before I could think more of it, Mr. Stone turned to me.
“So, Alice,” he said kindly, “I hear you topped your class. That’s incredible. Your dad’s very proud.”
“Thank you,” I said, cheeks warming.
“She’s always been like that,” Dad added proudly. “Always reading, always asking questions.”
I tried not to look across the table, but I felt Lucas watching me again.
Only this time… it wasn’t smugness.
It was something else.
Something I didn’t know how to name.
- Writer
