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11
Alexis
I stare at the dark stained door I must have walked through thousands of times. It’s just a door, Alexis, I reprimand, but my courage has fled. I just need a minute or so to collect myself, to shore up my defenses, but even that’s denied me when it slams open.
Seeing him is a physical punch to my gut, my breath leaving me in a stifled gasp. It hurts to see this man that used to be my moon and stars.
He’s a mess, a shadow of the normal put-together man I thought I knew so well. His usual vibrant blue eyes are red-rimmed and cloudy, the stubble covering his jaw a far cry from his normal smoothness. His hair is disheveled, pieces of it sticking up all over, no doubt from his long fingers carding through it, tugging and pulling.
I want to feel sorry for him, but then I remember he’s the one that put the circles under my eyes. He’s the one that has my shoulders slumping, the weight of them almost too heavy to bear. Caring for him feels like it’s been written in my DNA, and that’s just another thing I’ll have to unlearn. His eyes look behind me, searching.
“I dropped Lizzy off at Mom’s house so that we can talk.” With a deep breath, I square my shoulders and walk up to the door. I stop and hold a hand out when he reaches for me.
“Let’s just get inside. I don’t want to do this out here.”
With a hesitant nod, he moves back to give me space, reluctance painted in every line of his body.
Yeah, buddy, you’re not the only one.A shudder wracks through me in the entrance hall. The picture of Monica standing there destroying my whole world is something I’ll never be able to forget. I hasten my steps, the heat of Lucas’s body burning against my back all the way into the lounge. My heart races, all the questions I have waiting to pounce on him like piranhas that have scented blood in the water.
“Alexis.” My name is a whisper on his lips, so close I can feel his breath on my ear. I jerk forward and round on him.
“Why?”
That one little word is wrenched from the deepest part of me. It’s such a small word that can mean so many things.
Why did you do it?
Why did you stop loving me?
Why am I not enough?
Why did you hurt me?
I need so many answers. I don’t want them, but I need them.
“I don’t know.” His voice is low and laced with sorrow, but it’s not enough.
My head rears back as if he’d just slapped me. He’s completely broken our life, and that’s all I get, an “I don’t know”? After thirteen years, I’m owed more than that.
“You don’t know? I never took you for a coward, Lucas. At least Monica had the guts to tell me why.”
At the mention of her name, fire ignites in his eyes. “She had no fucking right coming here.”
My laugh is brittle, scorn painting every word. “You gave her the right when you screwed her.”
His gaze drops to the floor. “I’m so sorry, baby.” His voice breaks, his lips trembling. “There’s no excuse for what I did, but I’m so, so sorry.”
“Did any of this,” I fling my arm out, vaguely gesturing around, “ever mean anything to you?” My chest is heaving with the anger and hurt churning despite having told myself I’d keep it together. “Did you even once think about Lizzy and me while you were screwing her?” Immediately I want to swallow those words back. I don’t know what would be worse—forgetting about us or just not caring.
He flinches as if I’d physically punched him, but his words are uttered with fervor. “You mean everything to me.”
It’s empty words because he’s a liar. Actions speak louder than words.
“Liar!” My voice is loud, and I want to throw something, anything. I want to see something shatter and break, just like my heart. “You don’t hurt someone like this if you care about them. Do you love her?”
“No, God no. I’ve only ever loved you. It wasn’t like that at all.”
His broken words fill me with fury.
