CHAPTER 34

NOTICING ISN'T CHOOSING...

The rain had been falling since morning, a steady drizzle that turned the sky into a pale gray canvas. Abigail was curled up on the sofa in the main living room, a book in her lap, though she hadn’t turned a page in ten minutes. The rhythmic patter of rain on the wide windows was almost hypnotic.

Luke had disappeared into his study earlier, saying he needed to make a few calls. She assumed it was business. When was it not? So she let him be, no distractions. Not like he would even let her.

She was halfway through pouring herself another cup of tea when she heard the low rumble of an unfamiliar engine pulling into the driveway.

Luke’s voice carried from the hall. “Abigail, we have company.”

She stepped toward the entrance just as Luke opened the front door, and that was when she saw him.

The man was tall, broad-shouldered, and striking in a way that was almost disarming. His suit fit like it had been poured onto him, and his easy smile showed the kind of charm that didn’t need rehearsing.

“Abigail,” Luke said, his hand resting at her lower back, “this is Adrian Cross. Old friend of mine. We go back years.”

Adrian stepped forward, extending his hand. “It’s a pleasure, Mrs. Vandell.” His voice was deep, warm, with a faint European tune.

She shook his hand, finding his grip firm but not overbearing. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Luke led them into the sitting area. “Adrian runs his own company now. Import-Export. We’ve partnered on a few projects in the past.”

Adrian chuckled. “Luke’s being modest. He was the one who gave me my first big break. Without him, I’d probably still be shuffling papers in someone else’s office.”

Luke smirked but didn’t deny it.

They sat Luke and Adrian in the armchairs, Abigail on the sofa across from them. The conversation flowed easily at first: stories about the old days, tales of negotiations gone sideways, and business trips that had turned into adventures.

But every so often, Adrian’s gaze would flick toward her not in a lingering, inappropriate way, but with a kind of attentiveness that made her hyper-aware of herself. She couldn't tell what went on inside his head but couldn't care less.

It was during one of Luke’s stories that she caught herself comparing them.

Adrian was objectively handsome, his features were sharper, his smile more effortlessly charming, the kind of man who would draw eyes in any room without even trying.

Luke, on the other hand, had a different kind of presence. Where Adrian’s appeal was easy and immediate, Luke’s was heavier, more deliberate. He wasn’t just seen, he was felt. His aura, was too heavy not to be noticed. He didn't need to make movement before being noticed. His aura speaks for him. It seems like where ever he is, there is always this spell that's been cast over him. It was natural…something he didn't have to work for. It seemed natural, not really earned.

Adrian might make hearts skip; Luke made them surrender.

She sipped her tea, feeling almost guilty for the fleeting comparison. But as the minutes passed, the answer in her mind became clear.

Luke was the one she would always choose. Handsome was easy. Depth was rare although not denying that if she hadn't met luke, if Adrian had been the one at first, she would have fallen, asides meeting in a bad circumstances just like the way she met luke. A little, she wondered what her life would have looked like if she had chosen not to follow him that fateful day. If she had blindly stubbornly stayed back.

When the rain finally began to fade, Luke suggested they move to the dining room. He had asked the staff to prepare something light, and soon they were seated at the long table.

Abigail noticed how easily Adrian fit into the space, how his laughter seemed to warm the air, how even the staff seemed subtly charmed by him.

But she also noticed something else: the way Luke’s eyes occasionally flicked toward her when Adrian spoke, as if reading her reaction.

She wondered if he could see the thoughts, she wasn’t saying.

After lunch, Adrian rose from his seat, buttoning his jacket. “I should get going before the roads get worse.”

Luke walked him to the door, Abigail just a step behind.

“It was good seeing you again,” Adrian said, shaking Luke’s hand. Then, turning to her, “And it was a pleasure meeting you, Abigail.”

She smiled warmly. “You too.”

Adrian stepped into the rain, his sleek black car humming to life as he drove away.

Inside, Luke closed the door and leaned against it, watching her.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing,” he said, though the corner of his mouth lifted slightly. “Just wondering what you think of him.”

She raised a brow. “Why?”

“Because most women notice Adrian,” he said simply. “And you did.”

She tilted her head. “I noticed. But noticing isn’t choosing.”

His gaze softened, and he crossed the space between them in two slow steps. “And who did you choose?”

“You,” she said, without hesitation.

Luke’s eyes held hers for a long moment before he kissed her a deep, grounding kiss that left no room for doubt.

That night, as the rain started up again outside, Abigail found herself thinking back to the afternoon.

Adrian was handsome, yes. But Luke was something else entirely.

And as she lay curled beside him, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing. She realized that choosing him wasn’t just about love, it was about knowing, in her bones, where she belonged. The fact that he stayed in her room more often nowadays…. thinking back to how he started staying, it was something she didn't expect but wanted. Although it felt impossible for a while but happened….and for a moment, whether in same room or not, they were under one roof and that's what mattered.