The Silence Between Us

Episode 14

The quiet hum of the city outside did nothing to ease the tension inside Lucas's apartment. The warm-toned lights cast a soft glow on the sleek furniture, but the space felt colder than ever. Lucas stood by the kitchen counter, staring into the half-empty glass of scotch in his hand. He hadn’t touched it. Not really. He was too restless.

Marilyn hadn’t responded in hours. After her cryptic message, he’d called twice, texted again. Nothing. He had a feeling something had happened—something serious.

The knock on the door was sharp and impatient.

He opened it to find Xavier, leaning casually against the frame like he owned the place. There was a half-smirk on his lips, but his eyes were dark.

“Surprised you’re still here,” Xavier said, stepping in uninvited. “Thought you’d be too busy playing hero.”

Lucas shut the door behind him, slow and controlled. “What the hell do you want?”

Xavier turned to face him, that smug grin not leaving his face. “Just came to see how my big brother’s doing—since you seem awfully cozy with Marilyn these days.”

Lucas narrowed his eyes. “You have no right to bring her up.”

“Why not?” Xavier challenged. “She’s not yours. Hell, from what I hear, she wasn’t even mine. Girl’s been bouncing between us like a tennis ball. You really think she’s innocent?”

Lucas clenched his jaw. “Don’t talk about her like that.”

“Oh, come on,” Xavier said, laughing bitterly. “You think just because you’re older and wear a suit, you’re above this mess? You’re not. You’re just a hypocrite.”

Lucas stepped forward, fists curled. “Say that again.”

Xavier didn’t flinch. “You walk around acting like you're better than me, like you’ve got it all figured out. But let’s not forget who really abandoned someone when things got tough.”

Lucas’s stomach dropped. “Don’t.”

“Oh, I will,” Xavier said, voice hardening. “What was her name again? Clara, right? That girl you left hanging when she told you she was pregnant?”

Lucas turned away, jaw tight. “You don’t know the full story.”

“I know enough,” Xavier spat. “You walked away. You ran like a coward because you weren’t ready to deal with it. And now you’re suddenly Father of the Year with Marilyn? Please.”

Lucas turned back, his face stormy. “She told me she wasn’t sure if the baby was mine.”

Xavier raised his hands mockingly. “Oh, poor Lucas. Torn between morals and mystery DNA. That didn’t stop you from ghosting her, did it?”

Lucas took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. “Clara and I were already falling apart. She wasn’t honest with me. There were—other people involved. I tried to help, but she pushed me away.”

“You let her push you away,” Xavier snapped. “And then you buried the whole thing under your career and your clean suits and your perfect reputation.”

Lucas’s voice dropped to a growl. “Don’t pretend you care about what happened with Clara. You’re just throwing dirt because you got caught being a coward with Marilyn.”

Xavier's eyes flashed with something deeper—jealousy, perhaps. Or maybe guilt.

“I made a mistake,” Xavier muttered, “but at least I didn’t go after someone who looked up to me like you did.”

Lucas stepped closer, his tone icy. “You didn’t make a mistake, Xavier. You made a choice. You lied to her. You bet on her. And when she found out, you tried to shame her to save your ego.”

“I didn’t expect to fall for her,” Xavier admitted suddenly, voice rough. “But then I saw her with you. And I knew it was over. Because you always win, don’t you, Lucas?”

Lucas stared at him, stunned by the honesty—but it did nothing to lessen the anger.

“She wasn’t a game,” he said. “She never was. But you treated her like one. And now you’re angry because she finally saw through you.”

Xavier’s expression twisted. “You think she’s going to end up with you? After what she’s been through?”

“I don’t know,” Lucas said quietly. “But I’ll be there if she wants me. And I’ll protect her from people like you.”

A long silence fell between them.

Then Xavier took a step back, as if retreating into his bitterness.

“You should leave the city,” he said. “You’ve done enough damage here. Just go back to your high-rise office and forget all of this.”

Lucas shook his head slowly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Xavier laughed coldly. “You think staying will fix something? You think playing the good guy makes you any less broken than me?”

Lucas met his gaze, unflinching. “I’m not pretending to be perfect. But I’m trying. You should try it sometime.”

For a moment, something flickered in Xavier’s eyes. Not anger. Not sarcasm.

Hurt.

Then he scoffed, brushing past Lucas toward the door.

“Keep your charity case,” he muttered. “Just don’t come crying when she realizes who you really are.”

The door slammed shut behind him.

Lucas stood there for a long moment, breathing hard. The ghosts of his past hovered around him—Clara, the unresolved mess he’d buried, the guilt he’d carried without even realizing it.

But this was different. With Marilyn, there was clarity. A connection forged not through perfection, but truth. She had seen his flaws. And still, she had come to him for comfort.

Now, she was out there, hurting. Again. And all he wanted was to find her.

Lucas pulled out his phone, staring at her last message.

“I just need some time.”

He whispered into the quiet room, as if she could hear him, “Take all the time you need. I’ll still be here.”

Then he poured the untouched scotch down the sink.

He had no more room for regrets.

.

.

.

.

.

.