The Unfinished Vow

Chapter 7

It was too dark. Even with the fireworks still bursting overhead and lighting up the sky, Iris could not see where the little charm had landed. Perhaps that was for the best. If she could not find it, there would be no more wavering, no more lingering reluctance.

She stopped looking at Lucas too. She turned to tell Warren she wanted to leave.

That was when Mina called out to her. "I am meeting you for the first time, Iris. Do you have a boyfriend? Why didn't you bring him along?"

Her voice was gentle, but the way she carried herself, the bone-deep poise, was identical to Lucas'.

"Yes."

"Iris..."

Iris caught the worry in Warren's tone, the fear that she might spill everything about her and Lucas. But she would not. That love, the love Lucas refused to acknowledge, was her one and only treasure. She was not going to turn it into a blade and cut anyone with it. Anyone except herself.

She swallowed the bitterness and told Mina softly, "But he died five years ago."

Iris saw it clearly, the sympathy that rose in Mina's eyes and the guilt over having said the wrong thing.

"Mina, let's go."

Lucas' voice cut in. Iris looked over and saw Mina following him, climbing into his car and disappearing from view. His car was a Beast. Not wildly expensive, but not cheap either.

Iris suddenly remembered something a colleague at the firm had once joked about. "In New York, nobody bats an eye at luxury cars. But there's one rule. If you ever see someone driving a Beast, do not, under any circumstances, mess with them."

The more she thought about it, the more she wanted to laugh. She laughed until her eyes grew wet.

"Iris, what is it?"

She looked at Warren, who was watching her with open confusion, and said, "I was just thinking how striking the Beast is. A single car model, and yet it walls off two completely separate worlds."

She saw Warren's expression shift unmistakably at those last words. "Yeah. They're all just people. How did they end up divided into two worlds? Come on, Iris. Let me drive you home."

Downstairs at the rental, Iris watched Warren's car pull away, but she did not turn and go upstairs right away. She stood there in the freezing cold and tilted her head back to look up. Every home around her still had its lights on, warm and glowing. All except one window on the fifth floor, the east-facing unit. That one was dark.

It was the home she and Lucas had shared. She still remembered that day eight years ago. Lucas had come back bursting with excitement, saying he had a surprise for her. He covered her eyes with his hands and led her there. When he let go, she saw the little room done up warm and sweet. He held her then and said, "Iris, this is our home now. I know it is small, but I promise you, once we have the money, I will buy you a bigger house."

She remembered so clearly how earnest he had been when he said that and how full of genuine feeling. And yet he was nothing but a liar. The emotion surged up so violently she could not hold it back. She shouted into the cold air, "Lucas, you are a liar. A goddamn liar."

The motion-sensor lights in the stairwell flickered on at the sound of her voice. A few seconds later, they went dark again. Iris stood there, staring at the blackness, and all the emotion she had held in during the fireworks came rushing back up and spilled over as tears.

The winter wind was biting. It cut against her face, cold enough to sting. She sniffled, her nose numb from the cold, and made herself turn toward the stairs.

That was when she heard it. A faint rustle from the trees behind her. She turned instinctively. In the darkness, a small red ember flared and dimmed, flared and dimmed. She narrowed her eyes, and under the weak moonlight, she made out a figure.

It was Lucas.

'What is he doing here? Has he come for me? But why? Isn't he the one who told me he was not my Lucas? Isn't he the one who had not even looked my way? Wasn't all of this supposed to have ended long ago?'

Something savage clawed inside her chest, screaming with all the unresolved ache she could not strip away. But in the end, the only thing she truly wanted to do, the only thing she could do, was say his name the way she used to, back when they were still together.

"Lucas."

She saw it clearly, the way his body went rigid. Then he strode toward her in long, fast steps, pulled her into his arms with a force that left no room for refusal, rose onto his toes, and kissed her.

This kiss was nothing like any of the ones before. There was no tenderness, no slow unraveling. It was like a final, desperate frenzy before the end of the world. His force was hard and heavy, as though he wanted to crush her into nothing. Iris did not resist. She let him. Only when he tried to go further did she turn her head away.

"You made your choice. Now we both move forward. And we don't look back."