Chapter 2

The moment they caught wind of the news, my parents were dead set on coming to get me.

Mom and Dad wrapped me up in a tearful embrace, and I ended up crashing at their place for the night.

The next day at the office, right in the middle of lunch, Lucas barged into my personal space like he owned the place. He usually avoided me at work to keep the gossip down.

However, he was all up in my face, accusing, "Harriet, everyone has their breaking point with tantrums, don't they? Giving me the cold shoulder, staying away from home—what's that all about?"

"And you? Didn't exactly make it home last night, did you? Only figured out the house was empty this morning, huh, Lucas? Some husband you are."

I had checked my phone. Not a peep from Lucas last night, but come eight in the morning, he suddenly became Mr. Call-Me-Maybe.

That was not the first time Yvonne kept him out all night.

As expected, he scrunched up his face, acting like it was all cool. "What's the big deal? Yvonne's just back in town, and as a friend, I hung out with her a bit more. That's all. Nothing happened..."

Back for a year and that was his idea of 'just'? Please.

"I couldn't care less," I said coolly.

"Wait, what?" He was gearing up to keep explaining, but my answer threw him for a loop.

I laid it out, "Basically, who you hang with, what you do, you don't have to report back to me anymore."

Lucas looked like I had slapped him with a wet fish, just staring at me, speechless.

"Let's talk after work," he finally said.

Fine by me. I had a few choice words of my own.

Come quitting time, I hit the parking lot and there they were: Lucas in the driver's seat and Yvonne riding shotgun.

"Yvonne had a client nearby, figured I'd give her a lift," he mumbled, all awkward.

'Right, it was always me begging for an explanation before,' I mused.

Yvonne flashed me an apologetic grin. "Sorry for the hassle, Lucas. Harriet, you're cool with this, right?"

Her words said sorry, but her eyes were practically throwing down a gauntlet.

I just grunted and reached for the back door of the car, ready to hop in.

"You're not sitting shotgun?"

Lucas piped up, and I caught a glimpse of worry flickering across his face.

Yvonne looked taken aback by his question.

Well, it made sense. I used to get all worked up about riding up front with him.

Whenever I brought it up, Lucas just brushed it off, accused me of making mountains out of molehills, and said that was just how women were—overly dramatic.

However, it was not about being a woman. It was about knowing where I stood with the person I loved.

This time, I chose the back seat without a fuss, and Lucas was not happy about it. Strangely enough, I felt a wave of peace wash over me.

"Let's hit the road. I've got stuff to do later, and we've only got half an hour for lunch."

He did not say another word, just shot me a long look before starting the car.

At the restaurant, Lucas and Yvonne were deep in conversation, laughing and chatting like I was not even there.

It was always the same story. Yvonne would bring up inside jokes or shared memories that I could not latch onto.

When the food arrived, I did not even reach for my fork. Instead, I flagged down the waiter to order a bowl of pumpkin soup.

Lucas's brow creased with concern. "Not hungry?"

I gave the soup on the table an icy look and met his eyes.

"Seafood allergy. Did you forget about the last time I had a reaction and we rushed to the ER?"

Lucas looked away, a flicker of remorse crossing his face. That ER visit was on him, after all.