Chapter 80
Lucian took a deep breath as he descended the last few steps, trying to shake off the unsettling feeling that had been shadowing him all morning. Guess today isn’t going to be a coffee day either, he thought wryly, his mind already set on moving through the day as quickly as possible.
As he entered the lobby, he spotted his mother, Olivia, sitting quietly on the couch. Two steaming cups of coffee sat on the table in front of her, untouched, as if waiting. The sight made him falter slightly. Coffee? With her? he thought, feeling his stomach knot. This her being here, waiting for him, was unusual. The Olivia he knew was up and out, unstoppable and consumed with work by now. Her world revolved around the family business, and morning conversations were rare, if they happened at all.
A smile tugged faintly at her lips as she met his eyes, a smile that softened her usually strict features. Her face held an expression he couldn’t read, a softness that felt foreign. She looked… hopeful, almost tentative. Lucian felt his pulse quicken, an odd and unexpected ache pinching his chest. Her expression held something close to vulnerability a look he had never seen from her.
“Good morning, Lucy,” Olivia greeted, her voice gentle, almost cautious, as she gestured to the empty seat next to her. “Your sister arrived just a three hours ago… did she say anything to you?” Her tone held an anxious undertone, as though she were prying for answers he didn’t have.
“No, she didn’t mention anything, Mother,” Lucian replied, his tone guarded, already stepping lightly around her words. “She just… she was sitting in my room.”
Olivia’s brow furrowed with a flicker of worry. “I know you and Rose haven’t always seen eye to eye, but…” Her voice trailed off as she looked at him, her expression pleading, though she barely had to finish. Her worry was clear: she didn’t want history to repeat itself between them, and it was evident she hoped that things might finally be different.
Lucian managed a stiff nod, but he could already feel himself wanting to leave. His skin prickled at the idea that Rose had been watching him for three hours he slept just sitting in his room, quietly waiting for him to wake up. The realization made him shiver, and he quickened his pace, eager to put space between himself and the strange morning.
But as he tried to walk past her, Olivia’s voice broke into his thoughts, tender and trembling, stopping him in his tracks. “Lucy… can you sit for a moment?” The gentleness in her voice, the subtle desperation it was almost more than he could bear. She hadn’t looked at him like that in years. Perhaps not since he was a child, tugging on her sleeve for attention, hoping for a scrap of her time. Now she was asking him to stay, the way he had once done.
For a fleeting moment, his resolve wavered. He felt a pull to turn around, to meet the vulnerable expression she wore. But what was the point? He had spent a lifetime searching her face for that same expression, only to find disappointment. He swallowed hard, steeling himself against the fragile hope that glimmered in her eyes.
“Sorry, Mother,” he replied softly, though he kept his eyes fixed straight ahead, not daring to look back. “I’m already late for college, and I don’t have time for coffee right now.”
He kept his pace brisk as he walked past her, forcing himself not to turn around despite the pleading look he could almost feel burning into his back. Every step felt like he was pulling something heavy behind him. Each step carried with it the weight of memories the childhood moments where he had wished for a warm coffee break with her, just the two of them. The mornings he’d wanted her to sit with him, to talk with him about nothing and everything, like mothers do with their children. But she had always been so distant, her focus elsewhere, leaving him to figure things out on his own.
Just as he reached the front door, Olivia’s voice, fragile and breaking, echoed after him, “Lucy, please…” Her voice was small, barely above a whisper, but it sliced through the air with a force that made him falter for just a heartbeat. His hand hovered on the doorknob, every instinct screaming at him to turn back. He felt his heart pull, as though it wanted to snap back to her, to comfort her the way he had always wished she would do for him.
But he couldn’t do it. He was too afraid of getting pulled back into a cycle that had already broken him once. The uncertainty, the doubt, the pain that came with always wanting her approval and never quite feeling it he couldn’t walk down that path again.
Without a word, he pushed open the door, stepping out into the morning, letting it close softly behind him. He didn’t look back.
Inside, Olivia sat frozen, her eyes locked on the door that had closed so quietly, almost as if he hadn’t walked out at all. Her hand trembled as she raised it to her mouth, fighting to hold back the emotions that threatened to break her calm. She hadn’t meant to push him away for so many years, hadn’t meant for it to come to this silent, painful distance that seemed insurmountable.
She covered her mouth as her gaze dropped to the untouched coffee cups on the table. She had hoped that maybe, just maybe, today would be different that he would accept her invitation, even if only for a few moments. She had thought, perhaps naively, that he might still want to sit with her, share a morning coffee, laugh over trivial things. But he was gone before she could bridge the gap.
A tear slipped down her cheek, and she quickly brushed it away, her hand trembling as it fell back to her lap. Was it too late? she wondered. Had she pushed him too far? The memory of his distant gaze, his flat tone, haunted her as she sat there, alone in the silence of the lobby.
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