This Can’t Be Happening

CHAPTER SEVEN

LAUREN’S POV

I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, still damp from the shower, rubbing lip gloss on like it would fix anything. My reflection stared back at me, looking way too hopeful.

“This man just got you into York School of Fine Arts,” I muttered. “Your dream school. The one you’ve wanted since you were fifteen. What the hell is wrong with you, Rain?”

I capped the gloss and leaned closer. “It’s just gratitude. That’s all. He’s a good man. A really, really good man. I’m just… in awe. Nothing else.”

The words felt like a lie even as I said them. I sighed, pulled on a simple yellow sundress, and headed downstairs. My leg felt completely normal now. No limp, no pain. Thank God.

Thelma was the only one at the breakfast table, legs tucked under her, watching some makeup tutorial on her tablet. She looked up and smiled.

“Morning, sleepyhead. Rhode left chicken soup. Said it’s light and healing or something.” She pushed a bowl toward me. “Uncle Lucien went to pick up Aunt Evelyn from the airport. They’ll be back any minute.”

My heart did this stupid skip thing. I hated it. I forced a smile and sat down. “Okay.”

I bowed my head quickly, said a short prayer under my breath, then picked up my spoon. The soup tasted good, but I kept thinking about Lucien driving somewhere to get another woman. His fiancée. The word still felt wrong.

Thelma glanced at me. “You good? You’ve been quiet lately.”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just… thinking about school starting soon.”

She nodded. “York’s gonna be amazing. Uncle Lucien never does anything halfway.”

I smiled weakly and kept eating.

Later that afternoon, one of Lucien’s drivers took me to see Matron Celestine as per my request. We sat in her small office drinking tea. She looked happy to see me, really happy.

“Life is funny, Matron,” I said after a while. “Just when you think every need you’ve ever had is finally met… something bigger comes along. Something you know you can never have. And now you have to fight yourself every single day.”

She studied me over her cup, eyes sharp. “Big needs can be dangerous, Rain. Especially when they involve people who hold power over you.”

I looked down at my hands. “I know.”

She didn’t push me after that. We talked about York, about how grateful I was, about how much my life had changed in just a few weeks. But her words stayed with me the whole ride back.

The driver dropped me off in the evening. A sleek new white Mercedes was parked in the driveway. I walked inside. The living room was quiet, so I headed upstairs.

Thelma stepped out of Lucien’s bedroom, grinning like she’d won the lottery.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“Aunt Evelyn’s here! They’re catching up in his room right now.” She lowered her voice. “Don’t go in there yet. Give them privacy. I’m going down to make her favourite smoothie. You want to help?”

“Maybe later,” I said.

Thelma bounced downstairs. The second she was gone, I walked straight to Lucien’s door. My heart was pounding so hard it hurt. I turned the handle slowly and peeked inside.

Lucien had a woman pressed against him. She was tall, blonde, beautiful, probably mid-thirties. He was kissing her. Not quick. Not polite. Slow and deep, his hand on her waist like he knew exactly what he was doing.

I pulled the door shut as quietly as I could, turned, and tried to get away fast. My foot missed the top step. The world tilted. I tumbled hard, rolling and bumping all the way down the stairs until I crashed at the bottom with a loud shriek. Pain shot up my thighs.

“Rain!” Thelma came running from the kitchen. “Oh my God, what happened?!”

A few seconds later, Lucien’s bedroom door flew open. He raced down the stairs in a black button-up, sleeves rolled up, looking panicked. Behind him, the blonde woman stood at the top, perfectly made-up face full of worry.

“What happened?” Lucien dropped to his knees beside me, voice rough.

“I missed the step again,” I whispered, wincing.

His jaw tightened. “What is wrong with you? Don’t you ever check where you’re going?”

Before I could answer, he slid one arm under my knees and the other behind my back and lifted me like I weighed nothing. My arms went around his neck automatically. I could feel the heat of his chest, smell his cologne mixed with something feminine that definitely wasn’t his. It made my stomach twist, but I still held on tighter.

He carried me straight into his study and kicked the door shut, locking it with a soft click. Then he lowered me carefully onto the sofa.

“Did you sprain your ankle again?” he asked, crouching in front of me.

“No. My thigh hurts. I kept hitting it on the way down.”

He stood up fast. “I’ll get the ointment. Don’t move.”

When he stepped out, I heard him talking in the hallway. His voice was soft, the way it almost never got with me. “She’s okay, Evelyn. Just a fall. Wait for me in the breakfast room, alright? I won’t be long.”

My chest squeezed tight.

He came back in, closed the door, and sat right beside me on the sofa. “Show me where it hurts.”

I started lifting the hem of my sundress. His eyes flicked away quickly.

“I’ll call Thelma to help—”

“No,” I said quickly, grabbing his wrist. “I want you to do it.”

He looked at me then. The air between us got thick.

“It’s just… your massage helped my ankle heal so fast last time,” I added softer. “Maybe it’ll work again. Please, Lucien?”

He exhaled slowly, like he was fighting himself. Then he nodded. He took the ointment, rubbed it between his big palms to warm it, and gently lifted my dress higher up my thigh. His hands settled on my bare skin.

The first slow circle of his thumb made me suck in a sharp breath. His fingers were warm, strong, and so careful. He worked the sore muscle in deep, steady strokes, spreading the cool cream. Every press sent heat racing up my leg and straight between my thighs. I bit my lip hard.

“Does that hurt?” he asked, voice low.

“A little,” I whispered. “But it feels good too.”

His eyes met mine for a second. Dark and intense. He didn’t look away right away. His thumb pressed deeper, right on a tender spot, and I let out a tiny sound I couldn’t hold back. His jaw flexed.

“You’re really good at this,” I said, trying to sound normal.

“I’ve had practice taking care of you lately.” His voice was rougher now. “Too much practice.”

I watched his hands move on my thigh. The way his fingers spread wide, how the veins on the back of his hands stood out. My dress was bunched high, almost indecent. He kept massaging, slow and thorough, like he had all the time in the world.

“The woman… is she your fiancée?” I asked quietly.

He didn’t stop. “Yes. Evelyn.”

“She’s really pretty.”

Lucien glanced up at me again. “I should have told you sooner. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” I lied.

His hands kept working, sliding a little higher on my thigh. The tension in the room was so heavy I could barely breathe. I wanted to lean closer. I wanted him to keep touching me like this forever. I wanted him to stop being so controlled and just—

“When are you getting married?” The question slipped out before I could stop it.

His fingers paused for half a second, then continued. “Next month.”

The words hit me like ice. My heart cracked right down the middle while his warm hands were still on my bare thigh. I stared at the wall so he wouldn’t see my eyes getting wet.

Lucien must have felt the change in me. He slowed down, but he didn’t pull away. His thumb brushed a gentle circle right where my thigh met my hip, dangerously close. My breath hitched.

“Rain,” he said softly.

I looked at him. The way he was watching me, eyes dark and locked on my face, made everything worse.

His hand stayed on my leg, it was warm and heavy. Neither of us moved. The silence stretched, full of everything we weren’t saying. I could feel my pulse between my legs, loud and embarrassing. I wondered if he could feel how warm my skin had gotten under his palm.

He finally pulled my dress back down, but his fingers brushed my inner thigh one last time, slowly and deliberately. I shivered.

“Thank you for the massage,” I whispered.

Lucien looked at me for a long moment. “Anytime, Rain.”

The way he said my name made my stomach flip all over again.

I was in so much trouble.