“So it’s like that.”
1333 Words
After the final toast, the party swelled with energy—music drifting through the open doors, guests laughing, the clink of cutlery and champagne flutes filling the air.
Agatha stood for a moment, her smile politely fixed, then leaned slightly away from the group. “Excuse me,” she said softly. “Just need the bathroom.”
She didn’t glance at Alexander. He was across the room with her father and a man she recognized from television—someone important, someone polished. The three of them stood in close conversation, nodding, smiling in that practiced way men do when things matter more than they let on.
Agatha’s chest felt tight—nothing dramatic, just a small, sudden need to be elsewhere.
She walked off quietly, her heels tapping a soft rhythm down the hallway. The noise of the reception dimmed behind her, replaced by the calm hush of distance.
And there he was.
Lukas.
Agatha.”
She turned, heart sinking.
Leaning against the low wall, hands tucked into his pockets like he hadn’t just reappeared after vanishing years ago?
Agatha stopped. “You shouldn’t be here.”
He shrugged. “It wasn’t exactly hard to get in. My father’s been close to the Dravens for decades. I got an invitation like everyone else.”
“That’s not what I meant,” she replied, her voice tight. “You shouldn’t be here talking to me.”
His eyes met hers, and for a second, she saw the boy he used to be—warm, reckless, always one step away from sweeping her off her feet.
But that was years ago.
“You look beautiful,” he said softly, eyes scanning her face. “But… I need to ask you something.”
Agatha hesitated. “Lukas, not now.”
“No,” he said, stepping closer. Now. Because I’ve been holding it back all night, and I’m not going to leave Zurich without saying it.”
She stared at him, guarded. “What the f**k do you want?.”
He exhaled, incredulous. “What the hell are you doing marrying a man twice your age?”
Her breath caught.
“I needed to see for myself,” he said. I couldn’t believe it when I heard it. You—married to him?”
Lukas’s voice lowered, not angry—just hurt. “You’re twenty-five, Agatha. He’s forty-eight. You could’ve had anyone. You used to talk about escaping all of this, building your own life, and now here you are, married to Alexander Draven. Do you even know him?
Agatha crossed her arms, guarding herself. “You don’t know him.”
“No,” Lukas agreed, stepping closer. “But I knew you." And the Agatha I knew would never tie herself to a man like that.”
Her stomach twisted. “People change.”
He stared at her a moment longer. “Do they?”
Silence hung between them, brittle and full of memories. The snowfall thickened, brushing her shoulders with a dusting of white.
“Does he know?” Lukas asked quietly. “About us?”
Agatha’s breath caught.
“No,” she said. “And he won’t.”
Lukas nodded slowly, but the pain in his eyes didn’t fade. “So it’s like that.”
Her jaw clenched, and for a moment, she couldn’t speak. When she did, her voice was low, shaking—not from weakness, but from holding back everything she never got to say.
“Who do you think you are?” she said, barely more than a whisper. “You left me, Lukas." No goodbye, no call—nothing. Just gone. Do you know what that did to me?”
She laughed, but it was hollow. “And now you show up, acting like you care? "Like you have some right to ask about my life, my choices?” Her eyes shimmered, but she didn’t blink. You don’t get to come back and pretend I’m still yours. You gave that up the day you disappeared.”
Luca swallowed hard. Her words hit like a punch—sharp, deserved, and long overdue.
“I know,” he said quietly. “I know I don’t have the right to ask." I don’t even know if I have the right to stand here.”
He looked at her, really looked—like he was seeing all the years he missed, the weight of what he left behind etched in her eyes.
“I was a coward,” he admitted. I didn’t know how to stay, and I didn’t know how to say goodbye. So I ran.”
He took a breath, his voice catching. “I had my reason—”
But Agatha lifted a hand, her fingers trembling slightly.
“Don’t,” she said, stopping him from saying more, her voice tight. “Don’t try to make this make sense.”
Luca froze.
“You think telling me why makes it hurt less?” Her eyes glistened. You don’t get to come back after vanishing for years and explain your way back into my life. You don’t get to justify leaving me like that.”
She took a step back, her breath shaky. “Some things you don’t get to fix, Luca. Some things break, and they stay broken.”
Her voice wavered for just a moment, but then she steadied herself, eyes hardening.
“I don’t care about that anymore, Lukas,” she said, her words cutting through the air. “I’m married to the most successful man I could ever want, and everything in my past—including you—is gone." It no longer exists.”
She let the silence hang between them, her gaze never leaving his. “So whatever you think you’re here for, whatever you think you’re owed—it’s too late. It’s over."
The hallway was too quiet.
Agatha’s pulse thudded in her ears, her body still humming from the argument with Lukas. Her jaw was tight, her throat dry. She was trying to calm herself, to regain composure—but Lukas was still standing there, barely inches away, and she could feel the tension rolling off him.
And then—
Footsteps.
Measured. Steady. Familiar.
Agatha’s breath caught just before Alexander appeared at the end of the hall, the low light catching the sharp lines of his face, his expression unreadable but alert.
His gaze landed on the two of them, and for the smallest second, something flickered in his eyes—something that wasn’t suspicion, not yet, but the start of it.
He stopped a few feet away. “Agatha.”
Her name was soft. Controlled.
She turned fast, too fast, like a child caught doing something they shouldn’t.
"I was leaving the bathroom,” she said, breathless.
“I was just looking for the bathroom,” she said, breathless.
Alexander’s eyes flicked between them, but there was no sharpness in his gaze—just the calm, composed kind of curiosity he always carried.
Agatha tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, her voice light, but her fingers were stiff with tension. I bumped into him when I was leaving the bathroom. He was telling me how your families have known each other for years.”
She smiled—small, polite, controlled. The kind of smile that looked right but didn’t feel real.
Alexander nodded, completely unbothered. “Ah. "Yes, our families go back a long time.” He turned to Lukas briefly. “Good to see you again." Hope you’re enjoying the evening.”
Lukas nodded again. “Yeah. It’s… a beautiful event.”
“Agatha,” Alexander said, reaching for her hand gently, “Come, everyone wanted to say goodbye before leaving?”
She gave a quick nod, slipping her hand into his. “Of course.”
As they walked back down the hall, Agatha didn’t look over her shoulder. But she felt Lukas’s eyes on her—quiet, lingering, and full of everything she couldn’t let herself feel anymore.
- Writer
