Chapter 3
877 Words
Five years. That was how long it had been since Iris lost Lucas. Five years.
She had no clear memory of how she had gotten back to the compound the night before. She stood there staring at the gate, and the whole encounter came rushing back.
Just then, the gate swung open. A middle-aged man stepped out. "Ma'am. Mr. Sterling invites you inside."
Iris blinked. She had not expected Lucas to be here at this hour. 'And how did he even know I was outside?'
She followed the man in, still dazed. The moment she stepped through the door, she saw Lucas leaning against a wooden table, a lighter turning idly between his fingers. On the wall behind him, a monitor displayed the live feed from the security cameras outside the compound gates.
"Persistent, aren't you? Did Warren not tell you this place is off-limits?"
"That has nothing to do with him." The defense came out of Iris before she could stop it.
Lucas acted as if he had only been making conversation. "So you wanted to see me, then."
He kept flicking the lighter open and shut. Each scrape of the flint sent Iris' heartbeat stuttering faster.
"Warren came to see me last night," Lucas said. "He told me your dead boyfriend looked a lot like me."
Iris had never imagined Warren would tell him that. Her head snapped up.
Lucas lit a cigarette and held it between his lips. "Unfortunately, I am not interested in playing the stand-in game with you."
The mockery in his eyes was so sharp and so unmistakable. It hit Iris like a slap that finally woke her up.
'This man is not my Lucas. My Lucas had never once looked at me like that.'
The moment she understood that, a cold clarity settled over her.
"I apologize. I should not have come."
Iris turned and walked out of the compound. He did not call after her, and she did not look back.
The sky, already gray and heavy, began to release fresh snow. Watching the flakes drift down, Iris felt a sudden, inexplicable urge to go see Lucas.
Eden Hills Cemetery.
She got out of the car and walked straight to the grave at the far eastern end. A thick layer of snow blanketed the dark stone. Iris crouched down and wiped the snow from the black-and-white photo with her hand.
"Lucas. It has been a while. Have you been missing me?"
She was long used to receiving no answer. She settled herself down on the ground, leaning her head against the cold stone the way Lucas used to lean against her shoulder, and murmured through the small details of her recent days. There was not much to tell, really. She had visited him so many times over these five years that there was nothing left to say, nothing left unsaid.
Iris stayed there with him for a long time, sifting through their memories one by one. But as she sat there, she realized something that made her stomach drop. Those moments she thought had been carved into her forever were starting to blur at the edges.
People said that death was not the end of a life. Being forgotten was.
A quiet fear crept in. She was terrified that one day she would forget Lucas, forget the man who had loved her so much, the man she had loved just as deeply.
She made a decision. She would leave New York. She would travel to the places she and Lucas had once gone together.
She drafted her resignation letter and sent it off to the firm's managing partner. She was still turning over how to tell Warren when his call came through first.
She picked up. A woman's voice she did not recognize spoke on the other end. "Is this Ms. Iris Quinn? Mr. Winters is extremely intoxicated, and you are listed as his emergency contact. Could you please come pick him up? The address is The Venusian, Room 3602."
The woman rattled it all off quickly and ended the call before Iris could even decline. And then she thought about the decision she had just made. She went anyway.
The Venusian, Room 3602.
When Iris arrived, the door was slightly ajar.
"Warren?"
No answer. She knocked twice and stepped inside. The room was pitch-dark. She reached along the wall, using the faint light spilling in from the hallway to search for the switch.
Before her fingers found it, a wave of scorching heat pressed up against her from behind. She thought it was Warren and opened her mouth to speak.
She was spun around and shoved hard against the door. And then the man kissed her.
The assault was so fierce she had no time to resist. But the next second, something about the kiss struck a note of aching familiarity. His tongue swept across the roof of her mouth. That technique. It was exactly like Lucas.
'Lucas!'
Iris did not know where she found the strength, but she shoved the man away with both hands. In the same motion, she accidentally hit the light switch.
Under the harsh glare of the lights, Iris stared at the man standing opposite her, his features cold and devastatingly handsome.
"L-Lucas?"
- Writer
