Unwanted renuion

Chapter 6

It was as if his mind couldn’t process what his eyes were seeing.

Elara.

Right there, directly in front of him, was the girl he thought he’d been rid of forever. She was real, not a memory, standing mere feet away. Her golden-brown eyes were just as he remembered, and he could still make out the faint, scattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose. She looked incredible.

She had blossomed. There was a new maturity in the curve of her smile, and the red velvet dress she wore clung to her body, highlighting the defined grace of her hips and a figure that had certainly developed since their last encounter. Her lips were painted a bold, striking red.

She was staring at him, too, her own disbelief mirroring his. What was she doing here? he wondered wildly. Was she with a man? Was she still single? The questions slammed into him, unwanted and immediate.

“Lucien.”

She spoke his name, the sound of it a soft, husky rasp, before clearing her throat. “How are you?” she asked.

“What are you doing here?” The words left him sharp and unthinking.

A flicker of hurt crossed her face, quick as a shadow, but she immediately replaced it with a practiced, bright smile. “For the same reason you are, I guess.”

She was lying. He always knew when she was lying. Or maybe he didn’t anymore. He couldn't tell from the blush on her cheeks, which used to give her away instantly when she was hiding something.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Lucien said, his voice flat as he tried to maneuver around her.

Immediately, she reached out, her fingers brushing his wrist. He was so surprised by the contact that he paused, and she instantly pulled her hand back as if burned. “Please, don’t leave,” she said, her eyes now openly pleading with his. “I want to talk to you.”

I can’t do this. Not right now, not right here, he thought.

He walked away without another word, fighting the powerful urge to look back, and dissolved back into the anonymity of the crowd.

The next day, Lucien sat rigid in the conference room. An important meeting was in progress, but he couldn’t focus on the numbers or the projections. His mind kept cycling back to the sight of her golden-brown eyes and the desperate grip of her hand.

Why was she in Chicago? Why did they move? Why did she want to talk to him after so many years? After what her family had done to his, after what she had done to him personally. Was she looking for pity now that he had made something of himself?

The questions were a deafening current in his head, and he needed the answers. He needed to know everything.

“You saw her and didn’t think of telling me?” Lucien finally confronted Nathan later that day.

“Why would I do that?” Nathan replied, unbothered, seated across from him with his phone in his hands. “I didn’t recognize her at first. I was skeptical. She looked younger and different in the pictures you showed me, so I decided to check for myself. And when she said her name... Bingo. She was The Elara, your ex from your traumatic childhood.” Nathan had to fight a smile.

“But bro, damn, she has changed so much.” he continued, finally looking up from his phone. “She looked too nice and angelic to hurt a fly, let alone break someone’s heart. You could at least try and listen to what she wants to say.”

Nathan Chio, Korean-American, was Lucien’s only real friend. They had been roommates in college, sharing similar ambition but wildly different temperaments. Nathan was the golden retriever of the duo—warm, friendly, and a friend to many. Lucien, on the other hand, was sharp, composed, and exacting—a man who radiated the focused control of an Akita. Nathan came from old money, while Lucien had built his empire from scratch.

“That’s the thing, Nathan. What could she possibly want to say after all this time?” Lucien said, now standing.

“Well, the only way either of us will know is by talking to her,” Nathan said, getting up from his own seat. “And as your friend, I helped make things easier for you.”

Lucien looked at him instantly. “What did you do?”

“I did a very wise thing, my dear friend,” Nathan said, grinning mischievously.

“Nothing wise happens when you interfere with my personal life,” Lucien growled. Nathan just threw his head back and laughed.

“Bro, I’m hurt!” Nathan said, placing a dramatic hand over his chest. He watched the thunder in Lucien’s eyes until he finally put his hands up in surrender. “Fine, fine. I gave her your number.”

“You did what?!”

“I gave her your number. You’re welcome,” Nathan said with a smug smirk.

“You don’t just give my number to people, you idiot!”

“Of course I know that! But she’s not any person. She was once the love of your life, if I’m not mistaken. She just wants to talk to you, man.”

Lucien said nothing, his jaw clenched.

“Ungrateful bastard,” Nathan muttered, turning to leave. “I’ll see you later, bro. Expect her text at eleven.” He paused at the door. “I told her that’s when you’re usually normal and calm. If she doesn’t text, you must have really scared the shit out of her last night.”

And with that, he left Lucien alone with his spiraling thoughts.

Later that day

It was two minutes to eleven.

Lucien sat on his king-size bed, his phone lying beside him. He was anxious, though he tried his best to pretend he didn’t care. Let’s just see if Nathan was actually telling the truth, he muttered to himself, picking up the phone.

Ten minutes past eleven. Nothing.

“He pranked me, didn’t he? Son of a bitch,” Lucien spat, throwing his phone back onto the bed as he stood up to take a shower.

When he returned, he made a conscious effort not to look at the device. Why was he acting so childish? he thought, frustrated with his own behavior. He went to the kitchen for coffee; he still had some late-night work to do.

It was 3 a.m. when he finally finished his work in his library. He walked back into his room, his phone exactly where he’d left it. He picked it up and the screen lit up.

An unknown number had texted.

It felt as if his heart skipped a beat, then hammered back to life. He opened the message. It was her.

Hey Lucien,

It's Elara.

I don’t know if you’ll read this, but I really hope you do.

I sincerely apologize for sending such a text at this hour, but I didn’t really have another option. A gentleman at the gala had given me your contact. I swear I didn't ask for it; he was just being nice and offered it when I told him I wanted to talk to you.

I know you don't want to see, hear, or have anything to do with me. But that’s totally fine, and I respect your decision. I actually came to the gala to see you. I know you must think that’s really dumb of me, but trust me, I feel the same. But like they say, desperate times call for desperate measures.

My family was involved in a fatal accident some days back, and we’re currently stuck on funds. We've done everything we could, but the situation is really critical. They keep asking for more, and I don't have it. I know we are not the best of friends or friends at all, but I just want to plead with you to help us. If not for me, then for Gavin, for old time’s sake. You are my only hope, Lucien. I promise I’ll do anything in exchange for this.

And if you don't want to, then it’s fine. I totally understand. Thanks for your time.