Chapter thirty-one
Luc
What is she doing here?
I usually sit next to my father, but tonight, there’s only one chair near him—conveniently placed right next to Margot. Of course. I see what’s happening here, and my jaw tightens in frustration.
I pull out a chair next to Sophie for Rylee. “Father,” I say with a nod. “Mother,” I add, glancing at her briefly before turning to the Rousseaus. “Mr. Rousseau, Mrs. Rousseau,” I greet them politely, though my patience is already wearing thin.
Taking my seat beside Rylee at the far end of the table, I force myself to breathe. “What is she doing here?” I murmur under my breath.
“Well, Margot is back from London, and I thought this would be a good opportunity for you two to reconnect. You were perfect together. I don’t know what happened.” My mother’s gaze flits between Margot and me, a faint crease forming between her brows.
“Reconnect?” I fight to keep my expression neutral.
They still don’t know.
I told them it ended because I got busy with school and we drifted apart. I never told them the truth—never told them about Olivier .
Rylee shifts beside me, her brow furrowing slightly as she glances between me and Margot, confusion flickering in her eyes.
“Who’s your friend?” Margot’s voice cuts through the air.
Damn it. I’ve been so caught up in my anger that I haven’t even introduced her.
I clear my throat. “I’m sorry,” I say, glancing at Rylee. “That was rude of me.” Turning to my parents, I reach for Rylee’s hand and place it on the table for all to see.
“Mother, Father,” I begin, “this is Rylee.” I pause before adding, “my fiancée.”
Sophie is the first to react, her eyes going wide before a grin spreads across her face. “Oh my God!” she exclaims, grabbing Rylee’s hand.
“You fixed it!” she gushes, turning Rylee’s hand over to admire the ring. “It’s gorgeous.”
Rylee blushes faintly, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Thank you.”
“I didn’t know you were seeing someone,” Margot says, her gaze flicking between me and Rylee.
“Well, it wasn’t for you to know.”
My mother glances at the Rousseaus, her brows furrowing slightly. “I didn’t know either.”
The tension at the table tightens, a tangible thread pulling taut between Margot’s calculating silence and my mother’s unreadable expression. Under the table, Rylee’s hand brushes mine, easing some of the pressure in my chest. I gently squeeze her hand, silently grateful for her calm presence amidst the storm brewing around us.
Margot shifts in her seat, her lips pressing into a thin line. Her eyes meet mine briefly, and I can see the questions lingering there.
“Congratulations to you two,” my mom finally says. “It’s nice to meet you, Rylee. I wish I’d known about you sooner.” I catch a faint disappointment in her voice.
“Congra…tu…lation, son,” my dad adds. The sound tugs at something in me, but I keep my expression neutral.
“Thank you both,” I say, giving them a slight nod.
“How did you two meet?” Margot asks.
“Yeah,” my mom agrees, leaning forward with genuine interest.
I catch Margot’s gaze and hold it for a beat too long, throwing her a glare that I hope shuts her up.
Then I shift my focus to Rylee, who’s watching me with a mix of curiosity. “We met almost two years ago at Mia’s café opening,” I say, pressing my feet against the floor to keep them from bouncing. “From the first moment I saw her,” I continue, softening my tone, “I knew she was special.”
I turn to look at her fully now, and for a second, her eyes soften, but she quickly hides it.
“She is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, but it was more than that. There was something about her that just pulled me in. A connection I couldn’t explain,” I say, giving her hand a small squeeze under the table to ground myself.
Her fingers twitch slightly, but she doesn’t pull away.
“Then Mia asked me to show her around the city,” I go on, shifting my focus back to the rest of the table. “And the more time we spent together, the closer we got.”
The room is silent now, everyone listening intently. Even Margot looks caught off guard.
“She shines so brightly,” I say, glancing back at Rylee, “and she doesn’t let the shadows overpower her light. That’s something rare.”
Rylee blinks, her eyes widen, but she stays quiet, letting me continue.
“But then she had to go back to New York.” Regret creeps into my tone. “We agreed to focus on our own lives but promised that when the time was right, we’d give each other a real chance.”
I pause, glancing around the table before returning my gaze to Rylee. She’s looking at me now like she’s trying to figure out if I’m putting on a show.
“The time we spent together was the best time of my life.” I exhale softly, my eyes still on her. “I fell in love with her that summer.”
Rylee’s breath hitches, and her lips part like she wants to say something, but no words come out. Everything else fades, Margot, my parents, and the tension—none of it matters except for the girl sitting beside me.
“So when I got the chance to bring her back into my life, I didn’t hesitate for a second. I proposed within two weeks because there was no way I’d lose her again.” I hope she can hear the truth in my voice.
“Oh my God,” Sophie gasps. “This is like the most romantic love story ever,”
Rylee glances at Sophie then back at me. Her lips curve into the smallest, softest smile I’ve ever seen from her. It’s enough to make me wonder—maybe, just maybe, she doesn’t think this is entirely a lie.
“When’s the wedding?” Sophie asks, her eyes lighting up with excitement.
“We’re thinking next month."
“Next month? That’s so soon! That’s barely enough time to plan everything!” Sophie’s already sitting straighter, her fingers twitching like she’s mentally drafting color schemes and seating charts.
“Sophie,” I say, giving her a knowing look.
“Yes, yes, this is not about me, I know,” she says, feigning defeat but unable to help the gleam in her eye. Then she turns to Rylee, leaning in slightly with her signature charm. “But, Rylee, you’ll let me help, right? Please? You have to!”
Rylee’s soft laugh fills the air. “Of course. The more, the merrier.”
As the conversation continues, Rylee relaxes beside me. The tension in her shoulders loosens as Sophie chatters on. I let myself just watch her—how her lips curve when she’s amused, how her fingers skim over her wine glass as she listens.
The rest of dinner passes with Mom asking Rylee questions about her family, career, and her life in New York. Rylee answers gracefully, her words thoughtful and measured, but I notice the subtle shift in her posture every time my mother mentions her family. Her hand tightens slightly in mine, her nails pressing against my palm.
“Do you have any siblings?” Sophie asks, and her eyes light up at the mention of Rylee’s sister.
Across the table, Margot remains unusually quiet. She stirs her wine glass absently, her gaze flicking between me and Rylee like she’s watching a chess match and waiting for her move. I catch her eyes once, and she looks away quickly.
After dinner, we move to the living room for more wine. Rylee sits on the couch, talking about wedding plans with Mom and Sophie. I take the opportunity to slip into the hallway to make a call.
Pulling out my phone, I call my lawyer. The call connects on the first ring. “Any update?”
“Yes, she’s ready to sign. I’ll represent Rylee in her absence. Everything should be wrapped up in about a month.”
“Make it three weeks.” I exhale sharply, tension still coiling in my chest. “I need her at the wedding.”
He hesitates for half a beat before answering. “I’ll make it happen.”
I run a hand through my hair, letting the silence settle for a moment before ending the call.
Turning around, I freeze.
She’s there.
Margot.
My body stiffens instinctively. “What are you doing here?” I ask, putting my phone in my pocket.
“Your mom invited me.” She tilts her head at me.
“I mean, what are you doing here in France?” My words sharpen. “Shouldn’t you be in London?”
Her smile disappears, but she doesn’t look away. “I’m really sorry about what happened between us,” she says, her voice almost too quiet. “And thank you for not telling anyone.”
I scoff, the sound harsh in the still hallway. “You’re sorry that you were screwing my brother behind my back? Or sorry you got caught? Let’s be clear—I didn’t tell anyone because I was too embarrassed. Not for you.”
She flinches, just slightly, but enough for me to catch it. I expect her to walk away, to end this conversation, but she still stands there.
“Congrats again,” she finally says. “You two look like you’re in love. At first, I thought this was just about keeping your CEO position. But I see the way you look at her. It’s the same way you used to look at me.” She’s wrong. I could never look at anyone the way I look at Rylee.
“She’s a very lucky woman,” Margot adds, softer now.
“I’m the lucky one.”
She doesn’t say anything else, just nods before walking away.
“You saw that, huh?” I ask, not bothering to turn around. I don’t need to. I know she’s there. I felt her the moment she stepped into the hall—the shift in the air, the faint scent of vanilla that always clings to her skin.
“Sorry,” Rylee says behind me. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I was just looking for the bathroom.”
I turn, and the moment our eyes meet, the rest of the world fades. My focus sharpens, zoning in on her completely as I take a few steps forward. The way her fingers twitch at her sides like she’s holding back from fidgeting. Her lips, slightly parted, catching the faintest shine. God, I could watch her forever.
“I’m sorry she did that to you,” she says finally.
“It’s okay,” I say, my throat tight with the urge to close the space between us. To touch her, kiss her, and erase whatever doubts she might have. I trace the curve of her neck with my eyes, the way it leads to her collarbone. My heart pounds harder, my focus drawn to every subtle movement she makes.
“Do you still have feelings for her?” she asks, barely above a whisper. Her eyes lift for a split second before looking away, but that flicker is all I need. There’s something there—something fragile. Hope stirs in my chest.
I close the distance between us, my hand lifting to cup her jaw, fingers skimming her soft skin. She doesn’t pull away, but she still won’t meet my eyes. I tilt her chin until her eyes meet mine again. “Would it bother you if I do?” My thumb brushes over her cheek.
“No one wants to be with someone who has feelings for someone else,” she says, her voice trembling slightly. “Real or not.”
“That’s not what I asked.” I tilt her chin again, forcing her to look at me. “Are you jealous that I might still have feelings for her?”
Her silence stretches, and when she finally speaks, it’s barely audible. “Maybe a little.”
A little is enough . A smile tugs at the corner of my lips as my thumb traces her cheek again, slower this time. Her eyes hold mine now, and her pulse quickens under my touch. “You don’t have to be, Mon Soleil,” I murmur. “There’s no one else. Only you.”
Her lips part as though she’s about to say something, but then she pulls back slightly, her walls sliding back into place. “We should head back.”
Every time we get closer, she builds another wall. But I’ll keep breaking them down, one by one.