CHAPTER 102

DEMAND ANSWERS...

The café was tucked neatly into the corner of the upscale district, far enough from the bustle of the main street that it felt private, yet lively enough not to draw attention to two women seated at a table by the window. The smell of roasted coffee beans hung in the air, mixed with the sweet scent of pastries fresh out of the oven.

Abigail stirred her cappuccino absently, her spoon clinking against the porcelain cup, her eyes fixed on the swirl of foam that she wasn’t drinking. She looked almost out of place here dressed in a simple cream blouse and tailored pants, her hair swept back neatly. She was beautiful in her quiet elegance, but today her face carried a weight Maya immediately noticed.

Maya leaned forward, resting her chin on her palm as she studied her best friend. “Okay,” she said finally, breaking the silence between them. “Spill it. You’ve been stirring that coffee like it personally offended you. What’s wrong?”

Abigail sighed softly, still staring at the cup before lifting her gaze. Her eyes, warm but troubled, met Maya’s. “It’s Luke.”

Maya raised a brow. “When is it not Luke?”

Abigail smiled faintly, the corner of her mouth twitching, but the smile didn’t hold. She set the spoon down, her fingers wrapping around the cup instead, as though drawing strength from its warmth. “It’s different this time.”

Maya straightened in her seat. “Different how?”

She hesitated for a long moment, trying to find the right words. Then she leaned forward, lowering her voice. “Do you remember the name Oscar Dixon?”

Maya’s brows furrowed. “Dixon? As in the Dixon family?”

“Yes.” Abigail nodded. “I met him recently… at one of the events. He…..” She paused, biting her lip. “He stepped in during an incident. Obetta tried to humiliate me again, and Oscar… he stopped her. Protected me in front of everyone.”

Maya blinked. “Wait. Protected you? Like what, he swooped in with a cape?”

Abigail gave her a look, but her lips twitched slightly. “Not like that. He just… intervened before it could get worse. But Luke… Luke was furious.”

Maya leaned back, crossing her arms. “Of course he was. Your husband is so possessive he probably gets jealous of the sun for touching your skin. What else is new?”

Abigail shook her head quickly. “No, Maya, it wasn’t just jealousy. It was more. Luke was… cold. Sharp. He told me not to even look at Oscar. Like he knew something about him.”

Maya tilted her head, studying her friend closely. “And you think he does?”

“I know he does.” Abigail’s voice dropped, her eyes narrowing slightly as she remembered the tension of that night. “I confronted him after we got home. I asked him why he reacted like that. And he didn’t deny it. He said there’s more to Oscar… but he wouldn’t tell me what. He just said I needed to trust him.”

Maya tapped her nails against the table thoughtfully. “So, let me get this straight. Oscar Dixon saves you from Obetta’s latest tantrum, Luke nearly breaks his jaw with a glare, and now Luke is acting like Oscar’s carrying a loaded gun in his pocket but won’t tell you why?”

Abigail’s lips pressed together. “Exactly.”

Maya exhaled slowly, glancing out the window as if the answer might be hidden in the traffic passing by. “That’s messy.”

“You think?” Abigail muttered, her frustration slipping through. She leaned back, running a hand through her hair. “I hate it when he does this. When he decides what I should and shouldn’t know. As if keeping me in the dark somehow makes me safer.”

Maya turned back to her, her eyes steady. “Abby… you knew going into this that Luke doesn’t play like anyone else. He’s a man who builds walls around everything he loves, and sometimes that means you too.”

“I know,” Abigail whispered. Her voice cracked slightly as she set her cup down. “But it feels like there’s this part of him I can’t reach. Like he’s carrying something heavy, and instead of letting me share it, he shields me from it. And it makes me feel… shut out.”

For a moment, Maya was quiet. She watched Abigail, her expression softening. “Do you want to know what I think?”

Abigail nodded.

“I think Luke knows something about Oscar that could hurt you or maybe even him. And he’s not telling you because once you know, you can’t unknow it. He’s trying to protect you in the only way he knows how.”

Abigail’s chest tightened. “But it doesn’t feel like protection, Maya. It feels like distance. And after everything we’ve been through, I don’t want more walls between us.”

Maya reached across the table, covering Abigail’s hand with hers. “Then don’t let him build them. Push. Demand answers. He’s not going to volunteer the truth, Abby you know that. You’ll have to make him talk.”

Abigail stared at her friend, her heart aching with both gratitude and fear. “And what if I don’t like what I hear?”

“Then at least you’ll know,” Maya said simply. “Secrets are worse than truths, Abby. They eat you alive from the inside.”

The words settled heavy between them. Abigail glanced down at her coffee again, the foam now flat, untouched. She thought about Luke’s eyes that night, the way he kissed her instead of answering her question, the way his silence had screamed louder than any truth.

Maya squeezed her hand gently. “Abby, you’re stronger than you think. And you’re not alone in this. If Luke’s hiding something about Oscar, we’ll figure it out together.”

Abigail’s throat tightened. She gave Maya’s hand a grateful squeeze, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’ll never have to find out,” Maya said with a small smile. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Their food arrived then fluffy pancakes drizzled with syrup for Maya, a light salad for Abigail but neither woman picked up her fork right away. Abigail’s mind was too heavy, and Maya, though outwardly calm, was watching her carefully, almost protectively.

Finally, Maya cut into her pancakes, her tone lighter though her eyes remained serious. “You know, Abby, maybe you’re looking at this the wrong way. Instead of being afraid of what Luke’s hiding, think of it this way: whatever it is, it’s not stronger than what you two already have. You’ve survived worse.”

Abigail smiled faintly, but her heart was still uneasy. “Maybe.”

“Not maybe,” Maya said firmly. “Definitely. You’re not the girl who walked into that mansion months ago anymore. You’ve grown, Abby. You can handle whatever this is.”

For the rest of brunch, they tried to steer the conversation elsewhere Maya telling Abigail a funny story about her neighbor’s yapping dog, Abigail laughing in spite of herself. But the weight of Oscar’s name lingered between them, unspoken yet present.

As they left the café, sunlight spilling over the street, Abigail slipped on her sunglasses and hooked her arm with Maya’s. “Thank you for listening,” she said softly.

Maya squeezed her arm. “Always. And Abby?”

“Mm?”

“When you finally decide to face Luke about this… don’t hold back. He loves you, but sometimes men like him need to be reminded that love doesn’t mean silence.”

Abigail nodded, her chest heavy but a little steadier. She didn’t know when she’d confront Luke again, but she knew one thing for certain Maya was right. She couldn’t let this secret linger between them.