Chapter twenty-two
Rylee
Stupid heart.
I sit on the couch in Luc’s living room, watching him and Sophie in the kitchen, laughing as they dry dishes together. Not only did he make us dinner, it was delicious, too. A lump forms in my throat as I take in the easy joy between them and his carefree smile. They remind me of my sister. We talk all the time, but it’s been years since we spent time together like this.
Luc catches my eye from across the room, his laughter fading as he studies me. He does that a lot, reading me and picking up on things I’m not saying. When his gaze becomes too much, I look away, feeling exposed.
I excuse myself and head to his balcony, which is far larger than mine. From here, I can see my small balcony below. My body sinks into the chair, and the chilly night air numbs the thoughts swirling in my head. I stay there until my body begins to shiver, then something warm drapes over me.
Luc lowers himself into the chair beside me, wrapping the coat over my shoulders. He doesn’t say anything at first as he studies me again. He’s like a hard drive, connecting to me, patiently waiting for the data in my brain to transfer to him.
“You okay?” he finally asks.
I nod.
“Are you still upset about earlier?” he asks gently, looking at my face.
I shake my head then stare out at the city. “We should probably start planning things. The sooner we have the wedding, the sooner we can start working on getting custody of my sister,” I say, still avoiding his gaze. I don’t want him to see how much this hurts, or how desperate I am. “And how’s that going to work? I’m here, and she’s over there.” The doubt slips out before I can stop it.
“We’ll get family lawyers here and in the US. They’ll work together to show it’s in your sister’s best interest to be with you.”
I nod again but keep my gaze averted. His hand lands on my shoulder, turning me to face him. The soft light from inside spills onto his face, highlighting the damp curls that fall loosely around his shoulders. It’s almost unfair how handsome he is, but it’s his eyes that steal my breath away. How he always seems to look right through me, like seeing the shadows that hide beneath the sunshine.
“It’s going to be okay.” His hand reaches out to cup my face. My eyes flutter shut instinctively, and for a moment, I want nothing more than to melt into his touch, to let myself feel…something, anything, beyond the walls I’ve built around myself. But then I remember just how easy it was to lose myself in him that summer, and how empty I felt when I left. For a split second, I wanted more.
I take a deep breath. The cold air rushes into my lungs, but it does nothing to stop the ache swelling in my chest. Pulling back, I put some distance between us before I let myself slip into something I shouldn’t feel, because I know how it would end. Like a wave crashing against the shores, only to pull back, leaving nothing but emptiness behind.
No man is going to love you, Lily. We’re cursed, remember? They might act like they care at first, but they’ll get tired of you soon enough. Then they’ll throw you away like trash.
I swallow hard, pushing the words away, but their weight lingers. “I should go,” I say softly, heading back inside.
He follows me. “The elevator will take you straight to your home.”
I raise an eyebrow at him. “So you have access to my place whenever you want?”
“It’s the same penthouse, just two levels,” he replies with a faint smile, but there’s something softer in his eyes.
“Yeah, right.” I give him a small smile back. “Good night.”
He scans his card, and the elevator doors slide open. I step inside, turning back to find him watching me. Barefoot, in black pajama pants and a fitted long-sleeve shirt that clings to his shoulders, he holds my gaze until the doors finally close.
As soon as they do, I press my head against the elevator wall, willing my heart to calm down. Stupid heart . Why does he make it beat like this? I wish I could just remove the damn thing, or at least turn it off.
I’ve never had trouble keeping my walls up with anyone else. It always worked. I’ve enjoyed the sex, maybe their company, but I’ve never actually felt things for them. They’ve never made my heart race. But with him, everything is different.
After I left him last time, I spent months hating myself for letting it happen. I don’t know if I should feel hurt or relieved that he wasn’t mad that I left. He didn’t even ask why. Not that it matters—I shouldn’t have let it happen in the first place, not after he kissed Mia. For all I know, he still had feelings for her. I never told Mia about it, either. I felt too guilty, too ashamed.
The elevator opens into my living room, and I step into the quiet space, taking off my shoes. The cool floor presses against my bare feet as I move through the room. My clothes fall on the floor piece by piece until I’m in nothing but my pink thong and bra. I leave a trail behind me, already picturing the warmth of the bath waiting to unwind me. But as I reach the bathroom door, I realize I left my lighter in the living room.
I turn back to grab it and freeze when I see him.
Luc stands in the middle of my living room, holding my bag in one hand, his fingers curling around the strap. His eyes linger on me, sweeping from my face to my bare legs. His jaw tightens as he drinks me in. The heat from his gaze creeps up my neck, leaving my skin prickling.
“You… forgot your purse.” He takes a step closer then another, his feet barely making a sound against the floor. My heartbeat quickens as the space between us shrinks, the tension thick enough to taste. I stand there frozen. My muscles lock as if my body is waiting, unsure what comes next.
He’s so close now, close enough he can lean in and kiss me. Not that I want him to. His breath brushes faintly against my temple. His eyes drop to my lips, lingering there for what feels too long before meeting mine again.
My stomach does flips after flips.
The hand not holding the bag lifts, his fingers grazing my bare shoulder, trailing slow, lazy lines along my skin. A shiver ripples through me, my eyes fluttering closed as his touch sends heat curling low in my stomach.
“Rylee…” He draws out the words as if he’s asking for permission. His voice cracks through my haze, pulling me out of whatever spell he’s casting on me. My eyes snap open, and I take a step back, the warmth of his touch replaced by a cool emptiness as distance stretches between us.
His hand drops to his side, the bag still clutched tightly in the other, but his eyes don’t leave mine.
“Thanks.” I reach out, taking the bag from him, my fingers brushing against his.
“Good night, Luc.” I nod toward the elevator, even when every part of me wants him to stay.
He hesitates then dips his head. “Sorry,” he mutters, slipping his hands into his pockets before turning and walking away.
I grab the lighter off the kitchen counter, fighting the familiar urge to use it. It’s been months since I’ve felt like this. The longing, the ache, it’s all back, clawing its way up my chest. I take a deep breath, letting it go slowly, and head into the bathroom, lighting my vanilla candle instead. The soft scent wraps around me as I fill the tub, adding vanilla bath soap and watching the bubbles swirl. The smell loosens the knots in my chest.
I dry my hands on a towel, grab my phone off the sink, and type a message.
Me:
Hi Dr Beck. I know it’s been a while, but I need a session as soon
as possible. Can we schedule one?
The bubbles appear almost instantly.
Dr. Beck:
Of course, I’m glad you reached out.
Are you okay?
Me:
I’m okay for now. Can we schedule something for next week?
Dr. Beck:
Of course, I’ll have my assistant reach out to schedule,
but I’m here if you need anything.
I’m so proud of you for reaching out when you need it.
Me:
Thank you.
I set the phone back on the sink.
I’m not gonna cry .
I whisper my mantra under my breath, letting each word sink in.
I am happy
I am strong.
I am beautiful.
I love myself
I have Mia.
I have my sister.
And that is enough.
I close my eyes, repeating the words until I believe them, until they’re the only thing I feel.