LUCAS IS GAY

MIA

A package arrived mid-morning; there was no return address or name attached to it. Just a plain brown envelope left with the building’s front desk. 

I almost ignored it, but my name was written on it in clean black ink. At first I hoped it was a letter telling me my father was dead, or perhaps my whole family.

Lucas was still in the shower. I overheard him yesterday saying he wanted to work from home today. I intentionally cleared all the staff because I wanted to be alone with him today.

I opened it at the kitchen table, eager to see what was sent specifically to me. The moment I saw the photos, colour drained from my face instantly. 

They were clear photographs of Lucas.

“Lucas is gay.” I didn't know when the word slipped out.

Each photograph showed Lucas in ways I have never imagined.

Lucas kissing a man in a dark parking garage. Lucas’s hand on the back of another man’s neck in a hotel hallway. Lucas on his knees, while a man held his hair fuck facing him. 

They were all dated recently.

My hands started shaking. I flipped through the rest, they were screenshots of messages and hotel bookings under fake names.

I sat down to steady myself, waiting for the shower to stop running.

Right there in the kitchen, I thought of the nights I had begged him for a kiss, he would always turn his face away and call me desperate. 

So all these while, he hadn't been waiting for the special time, he never wanted me.

I saw him walk into his study, with his towel wrapped around his waist, hair damp. Before now, I would have swallowed, followed him and tried to initiate at least a kiss…fuck him.

I took the photos and barged into his study without knocking. Lucas looked up from his laptop, displaying his usual easy smile.

“You’re up early. Is everything okay?”

I dropped the envelope on his desk, the photos spilling across the keyboard.

He froze for half a second, then slowly closed the laptop and leaned back.

“Where did you get these?” He looked at me casually, like I just showed him photos of our wedding hall.

“Is it true?”

He looked at the photos, then back at me, and laughed. “Yes, obviously.”

The single word hit harder than any excuse could have.

I stared at him. “That’s all you have to say?”

“What were you expecting, that I would cry and apologise?” He stood and tightened the towel around his waist. “I never claimed to be interested in you; I only said I wanted us to get married.” He sat at the edge of his desk.

“The engagement was a transaction.” He continued. “You needed to leave the street, I needed a quiet, grateful girl the family would accept. You got a roof and a last name. I got a shield.” he shrugged. “That's a fair trade if you ask me.”

“You let me hope.” My breathing was heavy now.

“At your own will,” he added in a calm voice. “You even threw yourself at me like a dog waiting for scraps. Well…I let you keep the fantasy because it made you easier to control.”

My throat tightened. “You watched me beg while you were out fucking men.”

He smiled. “And a few days ago I watched you leave a party with a stranger and come back the next morning looking thoroughly fucked, I said nothing, remember? I even asked you to go and rest”

The words landed like a slap. I knew he saw the marks; he noticed the way I walked and was aware another man's cum was dripping out of me—yet he let it slide.

A corny bastard.

Immediately, thought of Dion’s hands, his mouth, the way he had looked at me like he was starving and called me a pretty thing while he fucked me until I forgot how to feel ashamed. 

The contrast made my stomach twist.

Lucas kept talking, voice colder now. “You should be thanking me. That day, I could have made a scene and thrown you out looking like a slut. But I thought deeply. He placed his fingers under his chin like he was thinking.

“I have decided I was going to let you keep a side man if that was what you needed.” He looked at me like trash. “Because apparently you are always horny. Fair enough, right?” He smiled brightly now. “You get your cock, I get mine. We stay married for the family, and I don’t have to pretend to touch you.”

“Lucas.” I finally managed to find my voice. “I thought we…

“You’re not special, Mia, you’re… just convenient.” He walked back to his seat. “Even your father made that very clear to you.”

The word broke me, and I burst into tears. Lucas was supposed to be my safe place, he was supposed to shield me from the trauma my father successfully built,  but here he was, adding fuel to the fire.

But I was done. I know I have been used and dumped like trash, but I know I deserve better.

I picked up the photos one by one and slid them back into the envelope. My hands had stopped shaking.

“We are done,” I said calmly, tears still flowing from my eyes.

Lucas’s expression finally shifted into something sharper. 

“Don’t be dramatic, Mia. Where are you going?”

I turned toward the door.

“Anywhere is better than staying here pretending you might one day want me.”

“Do you like being fucked that much?” He laughed at me from behind.

I didn't look back; I walked out of the study, tears running from my eyes nonstop.

I walked through the living room, straight to the front door. I didn’t pack a bag or take anything that belonged to him. I just left with the clothes on my body and the envelope of proof still in my hand.

“The door is open mia, fuck yourself through it and come back. You are welcome anytime.”

I heard Lucas' voice as the elevator door closed.