Chapter 6 She will come back
1078 Words
Leon stood near the fireplace, staring down at the screen of his phone for the fiftieth time in ten minutes—still nothing. The last message he had sent Lily remained unread. His jaw tightened.
She was ignoring him.
Him.
Margaret swept into the room in a cloud of expensive perfume and irritation. Her heels clicked sharply against the marble floor, each step full of disapproval.
“Leon,” she snapped, “this is unacceptable. I’ve called her three times today, and she hasn’t answered any of us. Not me, not Abigail, not even your grandmother—and she never ignores your grandmother.”
Leon didn’t look up. “She’ll come around.”
Margaret stopped directly in front of him, arms crossed, eyes narrowing. “She’s making a spectacle of herself and vanishing like this?"
Leon shrugged, unbothered. “She always overreacts. It’s one of her worst habits.”
Abigail scoffed, stepping further into the room. “Overreacts? She found out you were… seeing someone else. Of course, she reacted.”
Leon rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t ‘seeing’ Mia. It was a moment. A need. Lily refuses to act like an adult about it.”
Margaret let out a sharp breath and sank onto the sofa, staring at her son as if he were a puzzle missing half its pieces. “Leon… You were unfaithful. She caught you. She has every right to be upset.”
He didn’t like the way she said "unfaithful," as if it were an accusation. Like he should feel guilty, he didn’t.
He leaned back against the mantel, folding his arms leisurely. “Mother, you’re blowing this out of proportion. Lily’s been… difficult for months. Cold. Distant. Impossible to read.” A smirk tugged at his lips. “I’m not a monk. If she’s not willing to meet my needs, then what does she expect?”
Abigail shot him a disgusted look. “Are you even listening to yourself?”
But Leon wasn’t listening to either of them. His thoughts drifted, uninvited, back to Lily—her expression when she discovered him and Mia. The shock in her eyes, the way she had gone completely still before leaving the house with nothing but her bag.
For a moment, a flicker of discomfort passed through him. Something like guilt. But it disappeared just as quickly as it came.
No. Lily was dramatic like that. Always so fragile, so emotional. So naïve.
She would come crawling back. She always did.
He knew her too well. Lily hated conflict. Hated being alone. She’d never been independent a day in her life. She wouldn’t last two nights outside the safety of his home. She had no friends to run to, no real money saved. She’d crumble without support.
And when she did, he’d be waiting.
Margaret watched him closely, reading his expression with growing frustration. “Leon, you can’t rely on her running back. This situation could get out of hand if you let it fester, she needs to come home and pronto.”
He waved a hand dismissively. “It won’t.”
Margaret’s voice sharpened. “How can you be so calm? Your fiancée has vanished, and all you can say is ‘she’ll be back’? Have you reached out?”
Leon held up his phone. “Twenty-four messages today, Mother. Not even a single reply. She’s purposely ignoring me. Let her get it out of her system.”
Abigail sank into an armchair, exhaling dramatically. “You don’t even care.”
“I care,” he replied, but there was no conviction behind it. “She just needs time to stop being ridiculous.”
Margaret rubbed her temples. “This is a disaster waiting to happen.”
Leon almost laughed. Disaster. Please. Lily was not capable of causing a disaster. She couldn’t even raise her voice during an argument without tearing up. She didn’t have the backbone.
He could already picture her walking back through the estate door with her head bowed, murmuring apologies, begging him to take her back. It was only a matter of time.
His phone buzzed suddenly. He straightened quickly—only to see another message from Abigail reminding him that tomorrow’s charity event had been rearranged.
Useless.
He closed the notification and flicked over to Mia’s contact instead. Mia never ignored him. Mia knew her place—on the side, there when he needed her, gone when he didn’t.
Mia was easy.
Lily, on the other hand… obsession with politeness, fear of intimacy, all those boundaries. She’d always held herself tensely around him, as if waiting for something bad to happen. She’d blush at even the hint of affection, freeze at any suggestion of passion.
Frigid, he thought with irritation. Predictable. Boring.
He deserved more.
He typed a quick message:
“Meet me later. Same place.”
His finger hovered for a second. Should he? Yes. Why not? Mia was uncomplicated pleasure, and Lily wasn’t here to complain. He pressed send.
Margaret saw the glow of his phone and frowned. “Who are you texting?”
“No one important,” Leon replied easily.
Her expression darkened. “You’re making everything worse. If Lily finds out—”
“She won’t,” he cut in sharply. “She barely pays attention to anything. She didn’t even notice the first three times I was with Mia.”
Margaret inhaled sharply. “Leon. Stop talking.”
Abigail shook her head. “God, you’re awful.”
“I’m practical,” he corrected.
The rain outside grew heavier, streaking down the windows. It gave the room a cold, grey tint—one Lily would’ve hated. She always complained about the gloomy weather. It made her feel “unsettled,” she used to say.
He felt a small, smug smile form.
She must be miserable right now.
Probably holed up somewhere uncomfortable, regretting everything, wishing she hadn’t run off in a temper. She’d c***k soon. She always cracked.
And when she texted him first, he’d take a few hours to respond. Teach her a lesson. Show her he wasn’t someone she could disrespect.
Margaret stood abruptly. “Leon, you need to go find her. Bring her home and sort this out. Now.”
“No,” he replied.
“No?” Her voice was sharp.
Leon pocketed his phone and walked toward the door. “She’ll come back on her own. She needs me more than I need her. She knows it.”
- Writer
