Chapter 8
1908 Words
When he finally pulled into the restaurant's familiar parking lot, I frowned. It was the same restaurant where we had met with our parents to discuss the arrangements - the very place where my life had changed in a single evening.
The restaurant was exactly as I remembered it - grand, polished and uncomfortably familiar. The last time I had been here, I sat across from Lucas, surrounded by our fathers, discussing terms of a marriage that wasn't built on love, but convenience.
Now, here I was again.
But this time, it was just the two of us. The host led us to a private booth, tucked away from the rest of the dinner crowd. I slid into the leather seat, feeling a strange tension settle between us as Lucas took his place across the table.
The silence stretched, heavy and awkward.
Neither of us reached for the menu.
Neither of us knew how to start.
Finally, Lucas exhaled, leaning back slightly. “I figured this was the best place for our conversation.”
I scoffed, shaking my head. “Of course you did.”
Lucas rested his elbow on the table, watching me closely, his fingers idly tracing the edge of his glass. “It seemed fitting. We started everything here.”
I looked around the room - the warm lighting, the soft hum of conversations from other tables, the quiet clinking of glasses.
It felt familiar.
It felt like a setup.
I turned back to him, my expression cold. “And what exactly do you expect to happen here?”
Lucas didn't blink. “You have questions” His voice was steady, unreadable. “And you have answers?”
“I do.”
I studied him for a moment, searching for hesitation, for weakness. I found none. So, I leaned forward slightly, crossing my arms over the table. “Fine. Let's start with the obvious - why have you been acting so damn cold since I got here?”
Lucas sighed, running a hand through his hair. For the first time since the night started, he looked slightly….. off-balance. “It's not about you.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “Oh sure. That makes everything better.”
Lucas pressed his lips together, his jaw tightened slightly. “You think I enjoy being this way?” His voice was quieter now, almost contemplative. “You think I haven't tried to be different?”
Something about his tone made me pause.
“Then why are you like this?” Lucas leaned forward, resting his forearms against the table. For the first time, his expression wasn't guarded - it was thoughtful.
Careful.
“Because I know how people work. More specifically, how women work.”
My brows furrowed. “What is that supposed to mean?”
Lucas exhaled, glancing away for a moment before speaking. “They see my name first, my wealth second, and me……last. Always last.” His words hung between us, thick with something raw.
I frowned, my fingers tightening around my napkin. I had never seen Lucas talk like this before. “You think every woman is like that?” I asked, my voice softer than before.
“I think I don't have the luxury to assume otherwise,” he murmured.
My chest tightened slightly. There was something deeply human about his words - about the way he spoke them, as if he had already accepted that his life would always be this way.
Before I could respond, Lucas's eyes found mine again, his sharpness returning. “That's why I have been cold.
“Because you thought I'd be the same?” He didn't respond.
He didn't need to.
I swallowed hard, glancing at the table, trying to process the weight of everything Lucas had just admitted. “The arrangement. Tell me everything.”
Lucas exhaled, sitting back against the leather seat. “You already know most of it.”
“Humor me.”
He ran a hand along the side of his glass, tracing the rim absentmindedly before finally speaking. “It was all my parents.”
I studied him, waiting for more.
Lucas held my gaze for a moment before continuing. “They think marriage stabilizes a man - creates structure, keep him from getting distracted.”
His lips pressed together tightly.
“So when they decided I need a wife, they didn't ask me - they arranged it.”
I clenched my jaw. “And you didn't fight them?”
Lucas shrugged, but there was a flicker of something beneath the surface - something that told me this wasn't as simple as he was making it seem.
“What would have been the point?” His voice was calm, measured, controlled.
But I wasn't about to let him hide behind his detachment. “Are you telling me you didn't care? That you just let them pick a stranger and throw her into your life like an accessory?”
Lucas's expression hardened slightly, but he didn't look away. “It's not like you had a choice either.”
That stopped me.
I inhaled sharply, gripping the edge of the table. “That's not the same thing.”
“Isn't it?”
“I wasn't the one lying.”
Lucas exhaled through his nose, his fingers tightening around his glass. “Neither was I.”
I blinked at him, disbelief crashing over me. “Excuse me?”
Lucas leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “I never told you I was bankrupt.”
The words landed heavily between us, hanging in the air like an unspoken challenge. And the worst part?
He was right.
Lucas had never explicitly told me anything. I had simply been led to believe it. His parents had shaped the narrative that Lucas was in need of this arrangement.
And Lucas?
He had let them.
The realization made my stomach twist painfully. I wasn't mad because Lucas had deceived me directly. I was mad because he hadn't cared enough to correct it.
I shook my head, laughing bitterly. “Wow. You just stood there and let me think you were drowning. Knowing full well you were standing on dry land.”
Lucas didn't respond again. He didn't need to.
The silence was an answer itself. I exhaled sharply, my emotions still raw, sharp, impossible to ignore. “You accepted this arrangement without hesitation. Why?”
Lucas studied me, his fingers tapping lightly against the table. For the first time, he hesitated. “Because I didn't care enough to stop it.”
His voice was quiet but honest. And it hit me harder than anything else he had said tonight. Because he meant it.
Lucas hadn't been trying to manipulate me. He hadn't schemed or played games. He had simply….. accepted it. Because he didn't care. Until now.
I clenched my jaw, my emotions tangling in ways I didn't know how to process. For so long, I had seen Lucas as distant, cold and indifferent.
But now I realized something.
He hadn't been pretending to be that way. He had truly been indifferent.
To marriage. To relationships. To me.
And yet, sitting across from him now, watching the way his expression had softened just slightly, the way his walls seemed to have cracked - even just a fraction.
I realized something else. That indifference was fading. And somehow, that scared me more than anything.
The tension in the air had softened - not entirely, but enough for me to breathe. For the first time that night, my body relaxed, sinking slightly into the leather seat as I exhaled deeply.
I reached for my glass of wine, running my finger along the rim absently before speaking. “I loved my job.”
Lucas arched a brow. “At your father's company?”
I nodded, staring down at the deep red liquid in my glass. “It made sense to me. It felt right. I knew every part of it - how things worked, how deals came together, how to read people before they even spoke. It wasn't just business. It was……” I hesitated. “It was home.”
Lucas remained quiet, watching me closely, his expression unreadable. “Would you go back?”
I swallowed, shaking my head slightly. “I don't know.”
“Why?” I hesitated again, the words settling too heavy in my throat. I could have told him the obvious. That I had been thrown into a life I hadn't asked for, that leaving wasn't as simple as it should have been. But the truth was more complicated.
Because part of me - a small, irritating part - was starting to fit into this world. I wasn't ready to admit it.
Not yet. Not to him.
So instead, I gave him the second truth. “Because it's not mine anymore.”
Lucas studied me, his fingers tapping slightly against the edge of the table. “You talk like it was stolen from you.”
I let out a small, bitter laugh. “Wasn't it?”
His gaze didn't waver, but something in it shifted - a sign of understanding, something raw and rare.
It was strange.
Talking to him like this. Not arguing, not fighting. Just talking.
Like two people who had been thrust into something neither of them had expected. “What did you do there?” he asked, after a moment.
I glanced at him. “Why do you care?”
Lucas sighed, rubbing his fingers across his jaw briefly before speaking. “Because despite everything, I don't think you belong in the dark.”
The words stopped me.
For a moment, I wasn't angry. Just….. confused. The way he said it - it wasn't a compliment, but it wasn't dismissive either. It was an observation. A truth.
I tilted my head slightly, curiosity creeping into my voice. “What do you mean?”
Lucas looked forward, considering his next words carefully. “You carry yourself like someone who understands power.”
I raised a brow, unimpressed. “Careful, that almost sounded like a flattery.”
“It wasn't,” Lucas said plainly. ‘It was an assessment.”
I let out a breath, shaking my head with a small smirk. “You really don't know how to compliment someone, do you?”
Lucas didn't smile.
But his lips twitched slightly, and that was almost worse - because it meant that something between us was shifting. And neither of us were ready to stop it.
The realization that we had stayed too long hit me as I check the time. “We should go.”
Lucas nodded, paying the bill without hesitation. The wine had settled in my system, leaving me slightly off-balance as we walked to the car. He noticed but didn't say anything - just steadied me when I stumbled slightly.
The drive back home was quiet. My head rested against the window, the city lights blurring together as exhaustion pulled at me. By the time we reached the estate, I had drifted into sleep. I barely stirred as Lucas carried me inside, his grip firm but yet careful, his steps slow as he brought me to my room.
As he laid me down,
his presence lingered, heavy in the air. And just before sleep overtook me, his name slipped past my lips.
Lucas.
I didn't see his reaction. But in that moment, I knew something had changed.
- Writer
