Chained by our past

Chapter 15

Isla Calloway should have felt relief.

She had drawn the line. She had pushed Lucas away.

She had done exactly what she was supposed to do—kept things professional, kept their connection about Leo, kept her emotions buried where they belonged.

And yet, as she lay awake in the massive guest bedroom of Lucas’s beach house, staring at the ceiling, she felt anything but relieved.

The taste of his kiss still lingered on her lips.

His words echoed in her head.

"You have to decide, Isla. Because I’m not going to spend the rest of my life fighting for something you won’t even admit you want."

Her chest tightened.

Lucas Reyes had never been the type of man to wait for anything.

And if she kept pushing him away, she knew—he wouldn’t wait for her either.

The next morning, Isla went into full avoidance mode.

She woke up early, got Leo dressed, and made sure breakfast was already on the table before Lucas even came downstairs.

She pretended she was too busy organizing Leo’s bag to acknowledge the way Lucas’s gaze burned into her.

She refused to look at him.

But Lucas?

He wasn’t one to be ignored.

"You’re acting like last night didn’t happen," he said, his voice low and controlled.

Isla kept her attention on Leo’s backpack. "Because it shouldn’t have happened."

A sharp exhale. "So that’s it? You’re just going to pretend?"

She swallowed hard. "Yes."

Lucas let out a humorless laugh. "Classic Calloway."

Her fingers clenched around the zipper. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

"It means you run the second something feels real." His tone was calm, but there was an edge to it.

She turned to face him then, her chest burning with frustration. "This isn’t about me running. This is about Leo. I won’t risk hurting him just because you and I have—" She stopped herself.

Lucas stepped closer. "Have what, Isla?"

Her throat tightened.

His gaze searched hers, unrelenting, demanding.

But before she could answer, Leo came bounding into the kitchen, his face lit up with excitement.

"Mama, Daddy, can we go to the beach again before we leave?"

Isla tore her gaze from Lucas, forcing a smile for her son. "Of course, sweetheart."

Lucas didn’t push further.

But as they headed to the beach together, she knew—this conversation wasn’t over.

The morning passed in a blur of sand and sunshine.

Leo built another massive sandcastle, his laughter ringing through the air as Lucas lifted him onto his shoulders. Isla sat on the blanket, watching them, her heart aching.

Because this felt too real.

Too much like a family.

And she knew—it couldn’t last.

As Leo dug through the sand, searching for seashells, Lucas sat beside her, brushing grains of sand off his hands.

"You’re overthinking again," he said.

She sighed. "You always say that."

"Because it’s always true."

She hesitated. "Lucas…"

He turned his head, waiting.

She swallowed. "When this weekend ends, things need to go back to the way they were."

Lucas’s jaw tightened. "You keep saying that like it’s possible."

"It is."

"It’s not," he said, his voice lower now. "Leo sees me as his father. You can’t undo that. And whether you want to admit it or not, there’s something between us, Isla."

Her stomach twisted. "It doesn’t matter."

Lucas’s eyes darkened. "Then tell me you feel nothing when I kiss you."

She froze.

Lucas leaned in slightly, his voice softer now. "Tell me, and I’ll drop it."

She opened her mouth—but the words wouldn’t come.

Because it would be a lie.

And Lucas?

He already knew it.

Before she could find an escape, Leo ran up, interrupting them.

"Look! I found a big shell!" he said excitedly, holding it up.

Lucas turned to him with a smile. "That’s awesome, buddy."

Isla exhaled in relief—because Leo had unknowingly saved her from answering.

But deep down, she knew—she was running out of time.

Later that evening, as they packed up their things, Isla felt the weight of the weekend pressing down on her.

Lucas had kept his distance after their conversation on the beach, but his silence spoke louder than words.

She felt it in the way his gaze lingered on her, in the way his jaw tensed when she avoided his touch.

Leo, however, was completely oblivious.

As they loaded the car, he turned to Lucas with bright eyes. "Daddy, will we come back here again?"

Lucas crouched beside him, his voice gentle. "Do you want to?"

Leo nodded enthusiastically.

Lucas glanced up at Isla, waiting.

Her throat tightened.

She knew what he was asking.

And she also knew—she didn’t have an answer.

So instead, she forced a smile. "We’ll see, sweetheart."

Leo beamed, satisfied.

Lucas, however, wasn’t.