2

Before I could make sense of what was happening, Lucien pulled me into his arms and captured my lips with his.

I didn't resist.

It felt as though a missing piece of my soul had suddenly found its way back to me.

Slowly, my tension melted away as he deepened the kiss. When he finally pulled back, he brushed his thumb across my lips, leaving me breathless and shaken.

He sat on the edge of the mattress, his dark eyes fixed on me.

"It was only two years," he said quietly. "Yet somehow everything changed while I was gone."

"It wasn't like that."

"No?"

His gaze sharpened.

"I suppose Adrian must mean a lot to you if you're always defending him."

Heat rushed to my face.

Embarrassment tightened my chest, but Lucien didn't stop.

"When did you become like this?" I wondered.

"Stop imagining things, Lucien."

"Am I imagining them?"

His voice lowered.

I turned away, unwilling to continue the conversation.

Before I could reach the door, he caught my wrist and gently pinned me against the wall.

My heart stumbled.

He was too close.

Far too close.

Determined not to look intimidated, I lifted my chin and met his gaze.

His eyes were dark, intense, and impossible to read.

For a brief second, my attention drifted to his lips.

Smooth.

Inviting.

Dangerous.

I quickly pushed the thought away.

"I'll make sure you remember tonight," Lucien murmured.

His hands settled at my waist.

My pulse raced.

"Lucien..." I whispered.

My thoughts were a tangled mess.

Part of me knew I should stop this.

Another part couldn't ignore the comfort his presence brought.

Why now?

Why him?

Why after everything?

The questions echoed endlessly inside my head.

His fingers brushed against my hand, drawing me back to reality.

"Elena."

The sound of my name on his lips weakened every defense I had built.

"I want more than your silence."

My breath caught.

The room seemed smaller.

Warmer.

More dangerous.

Suddenly, the door burst open.

The noise shattered the moment.

Both of us froze.

Lucien turned sharply toward the interruption, irritation flashing across his face.

The visitor quickly disappeared after a brief apology.

The door closed once again.

Silence returned.

This time, heavier than before.

Lucien looked at me.

Not with anger.

Not with desire alone.

There was something deeper there.

Something that frightened me more than either.

He stepped closer.

I should have walked away.

I should have reminded myself of every reason this was a mistake.

Instead, I stayed exactly where I was.

A lamp toppled over as we stumbled backward.

My phone slipped from my hand and hit the floor.

Neither of us cared.

The world outside faded into nothing.

Only this moment remained.

Only us.

Then reality crept back into my thoughts.

"I shouldn't be doing this," I whispered.

Lucien's expression softened.

"I know."

His hand lifted to my face.

"But I want this."

His thumb brushed across my cheek.

"And if I'm being honest, I think you want it too."

My heart squeezed painfully.

Because he wasn't entirely wrong.

Slowly, we moved toward the bed.

For one reckless moment, I allowed myself to believe none of the complications existed.

That there were no expectations.

No obligations.

No painful history standing between us.

Just two people who had spent far too long pretending they felt nothing.

I sat on the edge of the mattress.

Lucien knelt in front of me.

"You okay?" he asked quietly.

A bitter laugh escaped me.

"No."

His eyes softened.

"I figured."

For a few moments, neither of us spoke.

The silence carried years of unfinished conversations.

Years of missed chances.

Years of feelings neither of us had ever been brave enough to name.

Then he rested his forehead against mine.

"I needed to see you," he admitted.

"More than I should have."

Something inside me cracked.

Not from sadness.

Not from happiness.

From relief.

The kind that comes from finally hearing the truth.

Outside, my phone suddenly lit up on the floor.

An incoming notification flashed across the screen.

Lucien glanced at it.

His expression changed immediately.

"What is it?" I asked.

He picked up the phone.

His jaw tightened.

"Your flight."

The words hit me like cold water.

My flight.

The one I had almost forgotten about.

The one scheduled to leave in less than an hour.

The room fell silent.

Every emotion vanished beneath a wave of reality.

I stared at him.

He stared back.

Neither of us moved.

Finally, he stood.

Without another word, he reached for his jacket.

"Lucien..."

He paused.

"You should go."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

After everything.

After all of this.

"You're seriously leaving me like this?" I asked.

A faint smile touched his lips.

Not amused.

Not happy.

Just resigned.

"If you miss that flight, Elena," he said quietly, "you'll blame me for the rest of your life."

Then he turned toward the door.

And just like that, he was gone.