Chapter 30
The worst part about losing Lucas wasn't the silence.
It was the habits.
Sabrina discovered that three days into their separation while standing motionless inside a grocery store holding two different brands of coffee because her brain automatically tried remembering which one Lucas liked better.
Dark roast.
No sugar.
The realization hit so suddenly she had to put both bags back and physically walk away from the aisle before she embarrassed herself publicly.
Pathetic.
Absolutely pathetic.
By Friday morning, Sabrina had also learned:
And honestly?
That part hurt the most.
Because even after everything, Lucas still existed inside every ordinary part of her life now.
Which felt deeply unfair.
"You look emotionally haunted," Chloe announced later that afternoon while dropping onto Sabrina's couch with iced coffees.
Sabrina didn't look away from the article she'd been pretending to read for twenty minutes.
"Thank you."
"I bring comfort and wisdom."
"You bring judgment and oat milk."
"Both necessary."
Chloe studied her quietly for another second before softening slightly.
"You talked to him?"
Sabrina shook her head once.
Not since the phone call.
Not since hearing Lucas sound genuinely terrified of losing her.
The memory still hurt.
Because part of her wanted to run back immediately.
Another part remembered the headlines.
The scrutiny.
The humiliation.
The exhaustion.
Chloe leaned back against the couch cushions afterward.
"He looks miserable."
Sabrina's chest tightened instantly despite herself.
"You've seen him?"
"He got photographed leaving some meeting yesterday." Chloe hesitated briefly. "Honestly? He looked awful."
Wonderful.
Now Sabrina felt emotionally devastated and guilty.
A truly horrible combination.
She finally reached for her phone beside her on the couch.
No messages from Lucas today.
Which somehow felt worse than before.
Because Lucas had gone from desperately trying to hold onto her—
to silence.
And Sabrina hated how much that silence scared her.
Across the city, Lucas sat through his fourth PR meeting of the week wondering vaguely if death would be less exhausting.
"Your numbers are stabilizing," his manager continued while sliding another report across the conference table. "The scandal cycle should slow down soon if we stay careful."
Lucas stared blankly at the paperwork.
Careful.
Everyone kept saying that word now.
Careful interviews.
Careful appearances.
Careful statements.
Like his entire life had become damage control wrapped in expensive suits.
His phone sat face-down beside him.
Still silent.
Something hollow twisted painfully in his chest.
"You listening?" his publicist asked.
"No."
At least honesty remained alive.
She sighed heavily.
"Lucas."
"What?"
"You look exhausted."
Because he was exhausted.
Not physically.
Emotionally.
The problem was:
before Sabrina, Lucas hadn't realized how lonely his life actually was.
Now he knew.
Which made returning to it unbearable.
Every part of his routine felt wrong without her somehow.
His apartment too quiet.
His insomnia worse again.
His chest aching constantly with things unsaid.
Worst of all?
Nobody around him noticed the difference between him functioning and him surviving.
Except Sabrina always had.
The realization nearly crushed him unexpectedly.
His publicist kept talking.
Something about public recovery timelines.
Lucas interrupted suddenly.
"Did Claire really set up that dinner?"
The room fell silent briefly.
His manager exchanged a look with the publicist before answering carefully.
"She suggested it might help stabilize public perception."
Lucas laughed once softly.
Not humorously.
Of course.
Another strategic decision.
Another image calculation.
God.
He was tired.
So unbelievably tired.
Lucas stood abruptly from the table.
"I'm done for today."
"Lucas—"
"I said I'm done."
The sharpness in his voice startled even him.
But honestly?
He couldn't sit through another hour of people discussing his life like a business crisis while the only person he actually wanted to talk to refused to answer his calls.
Outside the building, London rain fell steadily across the streets while paparazzi waited near the entrance immediately spotting him.
"Lucas!"
"Any comment on the breakup rumors?"
"Are you back with Claire?"
The question hit like a punch.
Lucas stopped walking instantly.
The cameras surged closer.
And for the first time in years, Lucas genuinely looked angry in public.
"Don't do that," he said coldly.
The reporters froze slightly.
Lucas rarely lost composure publicly.
"She has nothing to do with this."
A reporter shouted another question immediately.
"Then what happened with Sabrina?"
His chest tightened violently hearing her name out loud.
Too many memories hit all at once:
God.
Lucas suddenly couldn't breathe properly.
He got into the SUV without another word while cameras flashed violently outside the windows.
The second the door shut, silence crashed around him.
And unexpectedly—
Lucas broke.
Not dramatically.
No shouting.
No destruction.
Just quiet.
His head tipped back against the seat while he pressed trembling fingers against his eyes and finally admitted the truth he'd been avoiding all week:
he didn't know who he was anymore without Sabrina in his life.
The realization terrified him.
Because somewhere between fake interviews and late-night phone calls and quiet bookstores—
she had become home.
Meanwhile Sabrina sat alone in her apartment later that night trying unsuccessfully to write.
Her laptop screen glowed blankly in front of her while rain tapped softly against the windows.
Usually writing grounded her.
Tonight her thoughts kept drifting elsewhere.
To Lucas.
Always Lucas.
A notification buzzed against her laptop screen.
News alert.
Against her better judgment, she clicked it.
A video opened instantly.
Lucas outside some office building earlier that day surrounded by reporters.
Sabrina almost clicked away immediately—
until she heard the question.
Are you back with Claire?
Lucas stopped walking.
Then coldly:
"Don't do that. She has nothing to do with this."
Sabrina froze.
The clip continued.
Then what happened with Sabrina?
And suddenly Lucas's expression changed completely.
The cameras caught it for only a second.
But Sabrina saw it.
Pain.
Real pain.
Not celebrity performance.
Not PR control.
Just heartbreak.
Her chest tightened so hard it physically hurt.
Because she knew that look now.
She'd seen it before:
the night he admitted he didn't know how to keep good things.
The realization settled heavily over her.
Lucas was hurting too.
Not moving on.
Not replacing her.
Not fixing things easily.
Hurting.
Sabrina closed the laptop slowly afterward. She wondered if loving each other had ever really been the problem at all.