Lucas’s expression flickered, caught off guard. Then his eyes went down on Lara’s hand that was placed on Reagan. And the way she positioned herself in front of him—defensive, protective, made Lucas’ jaw clenched. His eyes dimmed with pain, but he didn’t speak.
Lara glanced briefly at Reagan, her eyes searching his face with concern. Lucas saw it too. And it cut deeper than he was ready for.
When she turned back to Lucas, she didn’t miss the look in his eyes—one of quiet devastation, as if something inside him was slowly breaking.
But she didn’t let herself soften.
“I asked you a question, Lucas,” Lara said, her voice sharp and unwavering. “Why are you here? Why do you keep showing up where you’re not wanted?”
Lucas flinched at her words. His expression twisted with something fragile, but he didn’t say a word. He just stood there, looking at her like he was memorizing every inch of her face, like her anger was something he believed he deserved—like every word she said was a wound he c
