Chapter 5 5

I hadn't seen my mother in weeks. The thought settled over me like a weight I hadn't realized I was carrying. Weeks had passed- weeks where I had been consumed by Oliver's betrayal, the rushed marriage and the insulting presence of Lucas. And in all that chaos, I had failed to do the one thing that mattered most.

Visiting my mother.

The morning light filtered through the curtains, casting soft golden streaks across the expensive bedding. I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the delicate patterns in the fabric as if they hold answers to the thoughts weighing heavy in my heart.

Today, I would see my mother.

I reached for my phone, hesitating for a split second before dialing the hospital. The receptionist answered swiftly,her voice polite and efficient.

"Hello, this is Dr Patel's office."

"I'd like to confirm visiting hours for Mrs Wilson," I murmured, gripping the phone tighter than necessary. I listened as she relayed the schedule, ending with words that hit deeper than I expected.

"She's stable today, though she has been asking for you."

I swallowed hard, my fingers tightening around the phone.

Stable!.

It should have reassured me. But knowing she had been waiting, wondering where I was, why I hadn't come, made my stomach twist with guilt. I exhaled sharply, closing my eyes for a brief second.

I would go today. No more excuses.

As I set the phone down, my gaze flickered towards the bedside table. That's when I saw it. An envelope, placed neatly against the smooth wood.

I frowned.

I didn't remember seeing it last night. Sliding it closer, I traced the edge of the thick paper before carefully pulling it open. Inside was a single slip of paper, the writing neat and precise.

"Breakfast is served at 8. You may join if you wish. If not, arrangements will be made - Lucas"

I scoffed under my breath. Had he been secretly monitoring me? Even his words carried no warmth. No attempt at conversation. Just formality wrapped in polite indifference.

A soft knock on the door pulled me from my thoughts. "Miss Sophia, breakfast is served."

I glanced towards the door,then back at the note. I exhaled, smoothing my palms against my dress before standing.

First breakfast, then my mother.

I stepped out of my room into the hallway. The dining hall is just too grand, too polished, too carefully designed to impress. I stepped through the doorway, instinctively glancing up at the massive chandelier with crystals.

Everything gleams.

I stepped inside, my fingers unconsciously brushing against the hem of my dress, a subtle anchor in the overwhelming space.

Lucas was already there. At the head of the table, he sat with effortless ease - fingers wrapped around his coffee cup, his posture relaxed but guarded. His parents, Richard and Tonia Smith, were seated on either side of him, engaged in a murmured conversation.

I heard from a maid that that a breakfast like this was only had when both parents are around, as they were always on business trips. A part of me was happy to hear that though. I never really liked the idea of having long conversations with them anyway.

Tonia noticed me first. "Sophia, dear," she said, gesturing towards the empty chair beside her. "I trust you slept well?"

I sat down slowly, smoothing the fabric of my dress. The chairs were too plush, the silence too delicate - every movement felt magnified.

"I did, thank you." I picked up my silverware, my fingers closing around the polished handle of the knife as I sliced absently into my toast. The maids moved through the room like shadows, refilling glasses and adjusting trays, ensuring the rhythm of the morning continued uninterrupted.

Across the table, Richard watched me with that same sharp gaze, assessing rather than welcoming. He leaned back slightly, folding his hands neatly over the table.

"You have plans today?"

His tone was polite, but there was something deliberate in the way he asked. Like he already knew the answer. Across from me, Lucas shifted just slightly,not enough to be noticed by anyone else, but enough for me to catch it. His grip on his coffee cup adjusted, his fingers tightening before releasing again.

He was listening!.

I cleared my throat. "I'm visiting my mother at the hospital."

Tonia, who had been delicately stirring her tea, paused and looked up. "How is she doing?" She asked,her voice carrying a sincere warmth.

I hesitated for only a moment. "She's.......managing," I said. It wasn't the full truth, but it was enough.

Richard, ever composed, leaned back slightly, glancing at me with that effortless authority that never wavered. "Her surgery has already been done," he said. "She's recovering well."

I froze for a second. Not because I was surprised that he had paid for it - that was always the plan - but because I hadn't realized it already happened.

"It's done?" I asked, my fingers tightening slightly around the edge of my napkin.

"Yes," Richard said simply, lifting his coffee cup. "She's stable." I swallowed, pushing back the flood of emotions rising in my chest.

Relief. Uncertainty!.

The quiet ache of knowing that something so crucial has taken place without me being involved. I glanced at Lucas briefly, expecting nothing, and still receiving exactly that. His posture remained composed, detached, the quiet clink of his fork against the plate was the only indication that he was still present.

But I know. He had known. And just like everything else, he had chosen not to say a word.

"I see." I murmured. There was nothing left to discuss. My mother was safe. That was what mattered. Now, I just need to see her for myself.

"Excuse me," I said simply, smoothing out my dress as I prepared to leave. No one stopped me. No one asked where I was going. No one acknowledged the weight pressing against my chest.

And Lucas? He didn't even look up.

"I'll have a driver take you," he said, his voice calm, unreadable. I looked at him, searching for anything that hinted at genuine concern. But as always, his expression remains indifferent, detached, like this was another formality.

"I can go on my own," I replied, keeping my tone steady. Lucas didn't argue. He only gave a small nod before turning back to his plate, dismissing the conversation entirely. I swallowed the frustration rising in my chest. There was no point in pushing for more, not with him.

As I stepped outside, the crisp morning air wrapped around me, replacing the heavy atmosphere I had left behind in the dining room.

A sleek black luxury car was already waiting, its engine humming softly.

Another silent arrangement made on my behalf!.

And just as I expected, standing beside the car, always poised and ready, was Eric. Dressed in his usual black suit, his hands clasped behind his back, he surveyed the surroundings with quiet precision.

Though he rarely spoke unless necessary, his presence was unwavering, a reminder that no matter where I went, I was never truly alone.

"The car is ready, Miss Sophia," Eric said, opening the door for me with a practiced ease. I hesitated for a brief moment, my gaze flickering back towards the house.

There was no sign of Lucas. No indication that he even acknowledged my departure. Without another thought, I slid into the car, settling into the plush seats as Eric closed the door behind me and took his position in the front seat.

I exhaled, leaning back slightly. Why do I care so much anyway?