Chapter 7 Seven

If I thought the rehearsal dinner would go by smoothly, I was sorely mistaken.

Between Lucas's insufferable smirks and Isabelle's thinly veiled jabs, my patience was hanging by a thread.

I focused on my plate, stabbing at a piece of roasted chicken with more force than necessary.

Lucas, of course, noticed. "You're going to murder that chicken before you eat it."

I shot him a glare. "Maybe I'm imagining it's someone else."

His lips twitched. "Should I be concerned?"

"Yes."

His deep chuckle sent an unwelcome shiver down my spine. "You were always cute when you were mad."

I stiffened, grip tightening on my fork. "You have a real talent for making me mad, Lucas."

"Still my specialty."

I exhaled sharply, willing myself to stay calm. The last thing I needed was to cause a scene.

Unfortunately, Isabelle seemed determined to stir the pot.

She leaned forward, propping her chin on her hand. "So, Claire, I have to ask-does being back here bring up... old memories?"

My stomach twisted, but I forced a polite smile. "Not particularly."

Her eyes gleamed with amusement. "Really? Because I'd imagine seeing Lucas again must be quite the experience."

I set my wine glass down a little too hard. "I'm managing just fine."

Lucas, to my surprise, didn't say anything. He just watched me, his expression unreadable.

Isabelle smirked. "You always were good at keeping your emotions in check."

I clenched my jaw, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a reaction.

Emma must have sensed the tension because she suddenly clinked her glass, drawing everyone's attention. "Okay, everyone! Time for speeches."

I silently thanked her for the save.

Andrew, the groom, stood first, giving a heartfelt speech about how lucky he was to have found Emma.

It was sweet. Romantic. Everything love was supposed to be.

I risked a glance at Lucas.

His gaze was on me, not the speech.

My breath caught, but I quickly looked away.

I couldn't do this.

Not now. Not ever.

When the speeches wrapped up, people started mingling again, and I saw my chance to escape.

I stood abruptly. "I need some air."

Lucas frowned. "Claire-"

"I'll be fine," I cut him off before walking away.

I stepped out onto the terrace, inhaling the cool night air.

For the first time all evening, I felt like I could breathe.

But, of course, my peace didn't last long.

The door creaked open behind me, and I knew-without even turning around-who it was.

Lucas.

I sighed. "Can't you take a hint?"

"Nope."

I heard him step closer, but I kept my eyes on the distant city lights.

He was quiet for a moment before speaking. "You never used to run from me."

I closed my eyes. "People change."

"Do they?" His voice was soft, almost hesitant. "Because you still look at me the same way."

I turned then, finally facing him. "And how is that?"

Lucas studied me, his hazel eyes searching mine. "Like I still matter to you."

My heart clenched.

I wanted to deny it.

I wanted to tell him he was wrong.

But I couldn't.

Because deep down, we both knew the truth.

And that terrified me more than anything else.

The air between us was suffocating.

Lucas stood too close, his hazel eyes locked onto mine, waiting. Daring me to say something, to deny what we both knew.

I forced a laugh, but it sounded hollow even to my own ears. "You're delusional, Lucas."

He tilted his head slightly, studying me. "Am I?"

"Yes," I snapped, turning away. "This is just your ego talking. You think because we're stuck at the same wedding, you can-"

"What?" he cut in, stepping closer. "Make you admit that you still feel something?"

I swallowed hard. "I don't."

His lips quirked, but there was no amusement in his expression. "Liar."

I spun around, heart pounding. "You don't get to do this," I hissed. "Not after everything."

Lucas's jaw tightened. "And what exactly did I do, Claire?"

I scoffed. "You really don't know?"

"Why don't you enlighten me?" His voice was sharp now, his patience wearing thin.

Anger flared in my chest, fueled by years of unresolved hurt. "You left, Lucas. You made promises, and then you walked away like none of it ever mattered."

His eyes darkened. "That's not fair."

"No?" I let out a bitter laugh. "You vanished. No explanation. No goodbye. You think I don't have the right to be angry?"

He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. "You don't know the full story."

I crossed my arms. "Then tell me."

Silence.

His throat bobbed, his fingers flexing like he was debating something. But instead of answering, he turned away, staring out into the night.

Typical.

I shook my head. "That's what I thought."

I took a step back, ready to leave. To end this conversation before it broke me completely.

But then Lucas spoke.

"I wanted to stay." His voice was quiet, raw. "I tried to stay, Claire."

I froze.

He turned back to me, and for the first time that night, I saw something real in his expression. Not arrogance. Not amusement. Just pain.

"I didn't leave because I wanted to," he continued. "I left because I had no choice."

A sharp gust of wind swept between us, but I barely felt it.

I opened my mouth, then closed it. My hands clenched at my sides. "What does that even mean?"

Lucas hesitated.

Then, before he could answer, the terrace door swung open.

"There you are!" Emma's voice cut through the tension. "I've been looking everywhere for you two!"

I flinched, the moment shattering.

Lucas's jaw tightened, but he stepped back.

I forced a smile, turning to Emma. "Sorry, just needed some air."

She beamed. "Well, come back inside! Andrew's uncle just brought out this insane bottle of whiskey, and everyone's taking bets on who can handle the strongest shot."

I laughed, but it felt forced. "Sounds... fun."

Emma linked her arm through mine, oblivious to the storm raging inside me. "Come on!"

I let her pull me toward the door. But as I stepped inside, I glanced back.

Lucas was still standing there, hands shoved in his pockets, watching me with an expression I couldn't quite decipher.

And just like that, I knew this wasn't over.

Not even close.

Lucas's voice was raw, filled with something I couldn't quite place. "You think I left because I didn't care. Because I didn't want to stay."

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding. "Didn't you?"

He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. "God, Claire. Do you really think it was that simple?"

I crossed my arms, unwilling to let him sway me with that tormented look in his eyes. "It was simple to me, Lucas. One day you were there. The next, you were gone. No explanation. No goodbye."

His jaw clenched. "You think I wanted to leave you?"

"Yes!" The word tore from my lips before I could stop it. "Because if you didn't, you would have fought to stay."

Lucas took a step closer, his presence overwhelming. "I did fight."

Something in his tone sent a shiver down my spine.

I searched his face, looking for answers in the sharp lines and haunted expression. "Then why did you leave?"

Lucas inhaled deeply, like he was bracing himself.

"My father," he finally said. "He forced me to leave."

I blinked. "What?"

He ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. "He found out about us, Claire. And he made it clear-if I didn't end things with you and leave town, he'd destroy you."

The air left my lungs.

"That's ridiculous," I said, shaking my head. "Destroy me how?"

Lucas's expression darkened. "You don't know my father the way I do. He had the money, the power, the connections. He could've ruined your family, made sure your career never took off, dragged your name through the mud in ways you can't even imagine."

I took a shaky step back, my mind reeling. "And you just... believed him?"

He scoffed. "I knew him. He wasn't bluffing, Claire. He never bluffed."

I stared at him, my chest rising and falling too quickly. "So instead of trusting me, instead of telling me the truth, you made the decision for me?"

His expression twisted with regret. "I was trying to protect you."

Anger surged through me, hot and suffocating. "You don't get to say that. You don't get to act like you were some kind of hero when all you did was leave me in the dark."

Lucas flinched, but I didn't stop.

"Do you have any idea what that did to me?" My voice cracked. "How many nights I spent wondering what I did wrong? Why I wasn't enough for you to stay?"

His eyes shone with something dangerously close to guilt. "Claire..."

"No." I held up a hand, my vision blurring. "You don't get to stand here and act like this is some tragic love story where you were the noble idiot and I was just supposed to wait around, hoping one day you'd come back."

Lucas exhaled sharply. "I never wanted to hurt you."

"But you did," I whispered. "You did."

Silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating.

Then, barely above a whisper, he said, "If I could do it over, I'd fight harder. I'd tell you everything. I'd let you decide."

I shook my head, tears burning my eyes. "It's too late for that."

Lucas's gaze dropped to my lips for the briefest second before flicking back up. "Is it?"

My breath caught.

Because even after everything-even after years of hurt, of betrayal, of missing him more than I ever wanted to admit-part of me wasn't sure of the answer.

And that terrified me more than anything.