Page 155 of Love Unspoken

Jax had told me that I'd given Kath too much leeway and this debacle was on me. I got that. I owned up to it. But Kath and I grew up together, and in all honesty, I didn't think she'd pull the stunt she did at the gala.

Worse were her father and my mother, who were relentless in their pursuit of my marriage to Kath. Case and point was them coming to my place to nag and threaten me.

I left work late, not wanting to come to my empty and forlorn townhouse. I wished I'd stopped somewhere to eat, I thought as I stepped inside. Life had become monotonous for me. I worked a lot because what the hell else was there to do? I was home for as little as possible. Amara had taken all her things with her. I missed her artwork, her stuff in the bedroom, her kitchenware—all of it. The housekeeper kept everything spotless and even made sure there were fresh flowers every week, but it wasn't the same. There were no warm smells of food when I got home. No laughter when she saw me. No hugs and kisses waiting for me. I was one sad fucking puppy.

I usually got home after she used to, but she never bitched about it like I knew some spouses did. My colleagues and friends, both male and female, often talked about how their partners thought they were workaholics. In couples where both people worked long hours, there were frequent debates about whose job took priority—a tension that only intensified once they had kids.

We hadn't had any of those discussions. Granted, we didn't have children, but Amara's job was as important as mine to me, regardless of how much money we made.

I collapsed on the couch and stared at the walls that had been covered with art, but now there wasn't much left. Amara had taken all the color with her, and I hadn't bothered to put any of my artwork on the bare walls. I wasn't home enough to give a shit.

Home? No, this wasn't home. It had become a place to sleep since Amara left. How could I have been so dumb to not have understood how I felt about her? I asked her to move in with me, and that sure as hell should've told me that I loved her. Instead, I'd let my ego and pride take over when Mama told me how Kath was single again and wanted to be with me. The worst thing was that after all this, I knew that Kath and I were bad news. That toxicity could survive when we were kids, but as grown-ups, that was just too much drama for anyone to tolerate.

I didn't understand why Kath wanted to be with me. I'd asked her, and she kept saying she loved me. I didn't believe her.

She probably wanted to be back in her father's good graces after she'd screwed up her status as the golden child when she left me for Mercer.

Flynn was never Hugh's heir apparent because he wasn't very bright. We had given him a position at LPC that paid him well enough, especially since he was married to my sister. It was a sales role and he more or less did a decent job. He liked to wine and dine clients—and did no harm, which was all I asked of him. Kath had been the one who was going to do amazing things—and she was. She was the CFO and a senior executive at LPC, which was a multi-million dollar company. But Hugh wanted more—he wanted her to marry me.

The doorbell rang, and I sighed as I lumbered to the door. When I saw it was my mother and Hugh, I was tempted to pretend I wasn't home. I reluctantly opened my door to let them in.

Mama kissed my cheek, greeted me, and all but pushed me into the townhouse.

I shook hands with Hugh and stood aside, feeling more exhausted than I had in a long time. Just when I thought I was making progress with Amara, not because we had sex, though, that had been fucking amazing, but because she was finally talking to me—it had all gone back to square one. She blamed me for letting Kath get away with humiliating her. I blamed myself, as well.

"Would you like a drink?" I asked. I may have found Hugh and my mother's presence irritating, but I was still a good ol' Southern boy.

They did, and I poured Hugh and myself a finger of Scotch and Mama a glass of port. They had apparently had dinner with some friends and decided to drop in to talk to me.

I drank my Scotch and waited. I had zero fucks left, and I was ready to throw both of them out of my house if they were going to do the same old song and dance, Southern hospitality be damned.

"Son, I was happy to hear that you and Kath went public with your relationship at that university charity thing," Hugh started.

"Kath made the announcement, which I didn't approve of then and don't approve now," I stated bluntly.

"But now everyone thinks you're in a relationship," Mama smiled indulgently. "Which is lovely, isn't it?"

I sighed. "No, Mama, it's not lovely, what it is, is fucked up."

"Lucas Jonathan Covington, mind your language," she immediately chastised me like I was ten fucking years old.

"I think we're past worrying about language, Mama," I drawled. "Hugh, I was clear with you. I was clear with Kath. I'm done. There is no relationship. There will be no engagement and no wedding. Kath and I are finished. I can record it for you and you can play it whenever you feel the desire to have this conversation with me so we don't waste our time."

Hugh's face went beet red. He was angry. Well, so was I, and he could go fuck himself. I was so tired of everyone trying to make their children live life on their fucked up terms. I used to think it was my duty, my obligation—what everyone expected of me. But marrying someone I didn't love was a line I just couldn't cross.

"Son, I told you that if you screw this up, I'll fuck up your life," Hugh growled.

I looked at Mama, and she nodded at Hugh, who was threatening her son and using the F word, which she didn't seem to mind. It was clear whose side my mother was on.

"Feel fuckin' free, Hugh."

Hugh glared at me. "I have influence on the board. I'll strip you of the CEO position."

"Knock yourself out." I stood up then. "If this is what y'all wanted to talk about, I'll see you to the door."

"Don't be rude, Lucas," Mama scolded.

"No, Mama, I'm not. You both coming to my home, threatening my job and position in the company because I don't want to marry a woman I don't love, a woman who left me for my friend—a woman I absolutely do not trust or even like—that is rude." I looked into Hugh's eyes. "You wanna fuck with me, Hugh? Go right ahead and see who comes out a winner."