Ice and ashes

Lucas's pov

Hospitals were always cold - sterile, serious and lacking emotion. I preferred them that way. They reminded me of boardrooms: full of calculated breaths, quiet strength and controlled chaos.

I sat in a private waiting lounge, grey suit crisp against the beige room, the cuff of my Rolex catching the harsh fluorescent light. The floor beneath my shoes shone.

Everything was clean. Neat. Perfect.

Just how I liked it.

“Mr. Marano?” A nurse poked her head through.“Your mother's vitals are stable. She's resting comfortably and the doctor will attend to you briefly.”

I gave a brief nod, barely lifting my gaze.

“Thank you.”

When she left, I stood and walked over to the large window looking down at the hospital's courtyard. It was drizzling - soft, persistent and unyielding. The same kind of drizzle that poured the night I signed my first billion dollar acquisition.

There was poetry to this type of weather.

And yet…something else drew my attention to the hallway. A flicker of movement. No. Not movement - emotion.

Raw, unfiltered emotion.

I turned just in time to see a young woman arguing with the nurse at the front desk. Her voice wasn't loud but it vibrated with urgency, like a guitar string pulled to the extreme.

“I said I'll figure something out. I just need a bit more time.”

I narrowed my eyes.

The woman - youthful, mid twenties maybe - stood in a pale pink hoodie and worn jeans. Hair in a messy bun, cheeks flushed and eyes rimmed bright red,no doubt from crying. And yet she stood firm. Unyielding.

Like the whole fucking world could collapse all around her and she'd still keep fighting.

She didn't belong in this place.

She belonged in a storm.

She turned away from the front desk, sighing like she was pulling herself together through sheer willpower. Then she saw me and our eyes locked for a mere second.

Just one.

And in that second, I saw it.

The fight.

The kind I'd seen in hopeful entrepreneurs pitching their dreams from crumbled homes. The kind that couldn't be bought or faked.

I watched her strut to a vending machine, digging through her pocket. She took out four crumpled bills. Inserted one. The machine rejected it.

Then another.

I didn't think much before I walked over to her,my footsteps silent on the tiles.

“Allow me…” I said, my voice smooth and detached but low enough to cut through her frustration.

She blinked up at me, startled.

“Oh,uh….”

I slipped my black card from my wallet and tapped it against the reader. The machine beeped, signaling the approval of the transaction.

“I wasn't -,” she started.

“I know,” I finished, not unkindly but a bit icily. “ You were struggling. You still are.”

She stared at me, her lips parted slightly.

Then she chuckled under her breath - dry, exhausted. “Guess you saw the whole show then huh?”

I shrugged. “I've seen much worse.”

I then took her trembling fingers in mine before I continued. “But hardly anyone standing so tall in the middle of it.”

Something flashed in her eyes - curiosity, maybe. Distrust as well. She gently removed her hands from mine before folding them across her chest.

“Forgive me, but you don't look like the type who hangs around ER vending machines.”

“I don't,” I admitted. “But you do.”

She tilted her head “and what's that supposed to mean, sir?”.

“It means,”I stated matter of factly, “you're too proud to ask for help, but too loyal to walk away.Your kind of person usually breaks alone.”

Silence stretched between us like gum.

Then -

“I'm Lucia,” she introduced quietly.

“And I don't break. Well not easily, anyway.”

My mouth quirked upward at her cute little introduction,well just a little anyway.

“Lucas Marano.” I introduced back.

Her eyes narrowed just for a moment, recognition reflecting in them.

“The Lucas Marano?”

I shrugged again. “Depends on who's asking.”

She looked me over again - only this time much slower like she was analyzing me which I oddly didn't mind too much. Then she spoke. “Well,Mr. Marano, thank you. For the vending machine rescue.”

I gave a curt nod. “It was the least a gentleman like me could do.”

Before she could respond, a nurse called her name down the hall.She gave me one last look - wary, grateful and curious - then scurried away.

I stood there a Moment longer, my expression thoughtful.

Then I turned and stepped out for a bit, letting the rain hit me for a brief second before I took out my phone.

It buzzed just before I dialed.

Matt Richards.

I answered the call with a knowing smile on my face. “You sure take your sweet time to reach out matt.”

Matt's familiar laughter broke through.

“You're one to talk,Mr ghost Marano. What? Running empires too big to call your best friend anymore?”

I smirked. “Something along those lines.”

“Ass,” he snorted before continuing…

“You still at hope general? Heard your mom's tests were today.”

“She's stable for now.”

“Glad to hear it. Hey - LA next weekend. Still up for it?”

“I'll be there but first I need to sort out things here,” I said.

“Hey, you better be there because I need a break from Vegas. Too many pricks trying to buy me out and not enough models trying to marry me.”

“Same old Matt, you never change do you?” I snorted.

“You know it.” he retorted.

We talked for a few more minutes - about nothing in particular and not once did I mention Lucia. I was fine with keeping her a secret.

To me she was the fierce woman in the hallway who struggled with the vending machine but with strength hidden behind her eyes.

I would always remember her and I would make sure she remembered me as well.