Chapter Two: The Mother and Her Sons Demand an Apology

Lucas carried the divorce papers back to the bedroom just as Isabella stepped out of the bathroom. Her long hair hung damp over her shoulders, and her flawless skin was flushed from the steam.

She sat down beside him and said, without looking up, "Dry my hair."

"Okay."

He set the papers aside and picked up the hairdryer. His fingers moved through her soft hair with the ease of long habit. He did this almost every day, unless she was away on business.

Over the hum of the dryer, Lucas stared at the little whorl at the crown of her head. "Isabella," he said suddenly, "let's get a divorce. I'm leaving with nothing. All you have to do is sign."

"Fine," she said at once.

She didn't even look up. She flipped to the last page, scrawled her name, and went right back to her phone.

Lucas froze. She hadn't hesitated for even a second. Had she heard him at all?

He switched off the dryer, ready to say it again, when he caught sight of her screen. She was smiling as she replied to Adrian.

From where he sat, he could read every word. Adrian wanted her to go with him to Silverbrook Preparatory, his old school, and then to a class reunion on the weekend. Isabella agreed instantly. They were already trading funny stories from their school days.

It felt like being struck on the head with an iron rod. His skull throbbed, and the pain spread down every nerve in his body.

Lucas and Isabella had attended the same academy. A few days ago, it had sent invitations to its centennial celebration, and he had asked her to go with him.

She had refused without a thought. "I'm too busy with work. Why would I have time for something like that?"

Then she had frowned, her impatience barely hidden. "And don't tell anyone we're married. I don't want the trouble. You know I hate trouble."

He remembered the chill of that moment perfectly. But when Adrian asked, she could drop all her work, wander the old campus with him, and even sit through a reunion.

Lucas gave a bitter smile. She didn't hate trouble. She just hated him.

So this was the difference between being loved and not being loved.

He suddenly felt like a clown who had performed a one-man show for years. It was time for the curtain to fall.

He glanced at the signed agreement and decided there was no need to explain. Isabella was probably delighted anyway.

He finished her hair, tucked the papers away, and then the doorbell rang.

When Lucas came downstairs, Ethan was already racing to open the door. Adrian stepped inside, arms full of bags.

Noah launched himself into Adrian's arms. "Uncle Adrian! What are you doing here?"

Adrian laughed and scooped him up. "Didn't you text me that you hadn't eaten and couldn't decide on takeout? So I picked something up and brought it over."

Ethan took the bags like a well-mannered little gentleman, his eyes curved with a smile. "Uncle Adrian, you're the best. I love you so much!"

Adrian waved it off and told them to eat while it was hot. When he looked up, he noticed Lucas standing off to the side and seemed faintly surprised, as though he had only just seen him.

"Mr. Hale," he said with a warm smile, "I hope you don't mind me coming so late?"

"What would *he* mind? He's failed at being a father anyway."

Isabella cut in before Lucas could speak, her tone sharp with displeasure. "Look at them. You're their father, and you care less about them than they do about each other. How can you even stand there?"

Adrian said gently, "Please don't say that. I was just nearby, so I dropped it off on my way. And Mr. Hale was probably just tired and didn't feel like cooking. Everyone gets tired sometimes."

He walked over to Lucas, nudged him with an elbow, and smiled. "Right?"

The nudge looked harmless. It wasn't. His elbow drove straight into Lucas's ribs.

Lucas's face twisted with pain, and he shoved Adrian away on instinct.

The very next second, Adrian crashed to the floor. He winced, blinking up with wide, wounded eyes, the picture of innocence.

Lucas stared. He hadn't used much strength at all. Yet Adrian, a grown man, had toppled like a reed in the wind. It was far too theatrical.

Unfortunately, Isabella and the boys bought every second of it. They rushed over in a panic and fluttered around Adrian, asking if he was hurt.

"I'm fine, really," Adrian said. Then he raised his eyes to Lucas, his expression grave. "Mr. Hale, I know you don't like me. But hitting someone in front of the children isn't right, is it? They're so young. They can't tell right from wrong yet, and they pick up everything they see."

Lucas nearly laughed in fury. Faking a fall was one thing. Now he was lecturing him on parenting.

"I barely touched you," Lucas said coldly. "You fell on your own. Don't try to frame me."

"You're lying!"

Ethan marched forward and planted himself in front of Adrian, hands on his hips like a tiny adult, pointing at his father. "I saw you push Uncle Adrian!"

"I saw it too, Dad! You're so mean! You did something bad and you won't even say sorry!"

Noah threw himself at Lucas and pounded his fists against his thigh. "Bad guy! You're a big bad guy! I don't want a dad like you!"

The boys were small, and their fists did nothing. But their words were needles, sliding in deep and leaving a sharp, stinging ache behind.

Isabella only watched from the side, cold and still. She made no move to stop them.

Her eyes were ice when they landed on Lucas. "Lucas Hale. Apologize to Adrian."

He met that frozen gaze, and something slammed into his heart, making it hard to breathe.

His lips pressed into a thin line. "I didn't push him. Why should I apologize?"

The moment the words left his mouth, he lunged forward and shoved Adrian hard.

Adrian wasn't ready. He only stumbled back two steps.

Lucas let out a mocking laugh. "See? That was much harder than before. So why didn't you fall this time? Do I need to say more?"

Adrian's expression flickered.

Seeing the strange look in Isabella's eyes, he quickly said, "Let's forget it. Just say I lost my balance earlier. I don't want you two fighting because of me."

With that, the three of them dropped the demand for an apology. But not one of them apologized for accusing him wrongly.

Perhaps they didn't think they had wronged him at all. In their eyes, whatever Lucas did was wrong.

Adrian and Isabella took the boys to the table to eat, and Lucas was left standing alone.

It was as though an invisible line had been drawn through the room. The four of them were a family. He was the outsider who didn't belong.

The sight grew harder and harder to bear. Lucas turned away and went back upstairs to the guest room, leaving the whole downstairs to them.