Chapter 2

Lukas still said nothing.

"Or were you waiting for her?"

"No." He looked up, his voice suddenly urgent. "It's not what you think. I swear, it was just a stupid mistake. I'd had too much to drink…"

"Too much to drink?"

"Yeah. I had a few drinks, that's all."

The bedroom door opened, and the woman came out, her heels clicking against the floor. She'd changed into a white shirt and jeans, and she'd tied her hair back. She looked much more put together than before.

But she couldn't hide the red mark on her neck. It was a hickey, fresh and dark reddish-purple, just above her collarbone.

She walked over to Lukas and stopped beside him, glancing at me.

The look in her eyes had changed. Earlier, she'd kept her head down, too afraid to look at me. Now she stared straight at me, her lips pressed together in a stubborn line.

"I love him," she said.

I looked at her.

"I love him more than you do." Her voice wasn't loud, but every word was clear. "What we have is real."

"Shut up!" Lukas snapped, whipping his head around to glare at her. "Stop talking nonsense!"

She froze for a moment. Then she reached out and linked her arm through his, tilting her face up toward him. "That's not what you said earlier. You told me you were going to marry me."

He yanked his arm free and stepped away from her. She stood there, her arm still bent as though she were holding on to him, her expression stiffening.

I looked at her, then at him.

Lukas avoided my eyes, staring down at the floor as his fingers kept rubbing along the seam of his pants.

She stood there biting her lip, her eyes turning red.

"Do you even know who he is?" I asked her. "Do you know he's had a girlfriend for eight years?"

"Of course I do." She lifted her chin and looked at me.

I froze for a moment.

"He told me. He said you two had been together for a long time." She paused and glanced at Lukas. He kept his head down, not looking at her. "But he said the feelings between you were long gone."

She spoke a little faster now. "He said you're too controlling. You question him about everything and make him tell you wherever he's going. He feels like he can't breathe around you. He said being with me is different. He can relax, be free, and actually be himself."

I stood there, motionless.

So asking where he'd been was being too controlling. So waiting for him to come home for dinner meant making him report to me. So asking whether he was exhausted from working overtime was suffocating him.

All this time, I'd thought I was taking good care of him. To him, I was just a nuisance.

"He said you're always nagging him," she added, a hint of smugness creeping into her voice. "One minute you're telling him to stop eating so much takeout, the next you're telling him to go to bed earlier. Then you're asking why he hasn't replied to your messages. He said he couldn't take it anymore."

I looked at Lukas. His head was still lowered. He wouldn't look at her or at me.

"Is that true?" I asked him.

His lips moved, but no words came out.

"Lukas," I called his name.

He finally lifted his head and looked at me. Just once, before looking away again.

I understood that look. It was true. Everything she'd said was true.

Suddenly, I felt exhausted. The kind of exhaustion that started at the soles of my feet and spread through my entire body.

I'd only been standing there for a little while, but my legs were starting to feel weak. Still, I couldn't sit down. Not in front of him.

I took a deep breath. "Fine. We're done."