Page 96 of Love Unspoken

I was a jeans and T-shirt kind of professor. I preferred Chucks to high heels. I preferred staying home than going to a party. But I went to plenty with (and for) Lucas, spending money on clothes that weren't me and getting my hair done and makeup put on so I could look like the poor man's version of Kath. Next to her I was not curvy enough, my waist wasn't thin enough, my hair was too unruly—I was too intellectual, too dull. Lucas had told me he liked that about me. It was apparent now that he'd lied. I'd been…what? A rebound after Kath dumped him? I was the exact opposite of his ex; is that why he gravitated toward me?

I straightened and put some distance between Patsy's living room and me. I was not sure how I was still able to stand or walk because I couldn't feel my legs.

Dazed, I looked around the spacious hallway and nodded at Jerome, the long-time Covington Butler who'd walked me into the Lucas's family mansion before my world fell apart.

"Would it be too much to hope you didn't hear that?" I whispered.

Jerome smiled sadly. "Hear what, Professor Amara?"

"Just Amara," I corrected automatically. He was the only one outside of my students and colleagues who called me Professor. It was his way, and protesting was mine. Well, this would be the last time, wouldn't it?

After two years of wondering why Lucas was with me, not believing my luck, and feeling insecure whenever I was around his family—finally, I'd gotten my head out of my ass. Sure, it had taken hearing Lucas say he didn't know if he loved me, but he did know that he loved Kath and would always love her—but as they said, better late than never.

I licked my lips. My throat was parched. It was hard to get the words out. It was as if all the moisture in my body had pooled behind my eyes.

"I'm going to go," I said hoarsely.

What the hell else was there left to do? I couldn't stay here? I couldn't walk into that room now and have them pretend that they were happy to see me. Well, Patsy wouldn't even do that, but Lucas would. He'd smile. He'd kiss me with that same mouth that he had confessed to his mother with that he didn't know if he loved me, which was basically the same as him saying he didn't love me.

"They were expecting you an hour later," Jerome informed me in explanation.

"My flight landed early."

I had flown back from a conference in Chicago where I'd presented. I'd been on such a high all the way back to Charleston because it had gone so well. I knew that if I kept publishing the way I was, I'd get my tenure sooner than later. I'd been dying to share my success with Lucas, which was why I didn't text him. I wanted to tell him to his face.

I'd parked my car at long-term airport parking, which was what I drove to Battery in, which was a blessing, as I could get the hell out fast. My suitcase was still in my car, thank God. If I'd brought it in, Jerome would have taken it upstairs by now and left it in Lucas's room, where we were going to stay for the weekend to celebrate Rena Covington, his grandmother's seventy-fifth birthday. That would have only added to the trauma.

"Mama, let it go, will you?" We both heard Lucas snap, loud enough for the voice to carry all the way down the expansive hallway. "Amara is my girlfriend, and that's that."

"But you don't love her, and honestly, Lucas, none of us like her. She's so blue-collar and doesn't fit into our world," Patsy cried out. "She doesn't know how to dress, how to behave. Look at her and Kath, can you seriously tell me you can't see who's right for you, for the family?"

My father, Marcus Gallo, retired as a sergeant from the NYPD. I was proud of him. Very much so. He'd worked hard to put me through university, and it meant the world to him (as it did to me) that his daughter held a PhD in Health Communication & Public Relations from the University of Maryland. Blue-collar, we might be, but we worked hard to make our lives what they were.

We hadn't inherited fuck all. Our success was based on sweat and blood.

"Damn it, Mama," Lucas's voice was distinctly higher, frustrated.

Jerome looked at me, silently asking, "Do you really want to hear more of this?"

"Admit it, she doesn't fit!" Patsy shouted angrily.

"Fine, she doesn't," Lucas roared.

We heard the sound of something crashing.

"Get rid of her, son."

"I don't want to hurt her."

"You'll hurt her more if you continue this. Don't you see?"

Jerome was right. I didn't need to hear any more of this. I walked to the main door.

"Professor," Jerome called out as I stepped out onto a beautiful Charleston spring day. "You do fit with Lucas."

"It's just the rest of the Covington family, then?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so."