Chapter Six

LYDIA'S POV

Silence filled the space.

We just stood staring at each other.

For a long time.

"Are you going to sign them now?" I started to say. "Or when?" I added.

He said nothing.

A dry scoff left my lips.

I turned away, leaving him standing in there with the unsigned divorce papers.

What I needed right now was a strong drink.

Not any of his annoying bullshit.

I grabbed my car keys hanging in the wall.

Them I headed out of the house.

I drove straight to the very first bar I could find in this hellhole.

The place was dimly lit and certainly crowded when I stepped in.

Music blasted into my ears from all corners as I took a seat at the counter.

The bar tender looked at me.

"Whiskey and water, two parts alcohol."

I made my order.

The bartender raised a brow.

But he poured it without any comment.

I raised the glass to my lips.

But I had prepared myself before hand.

That was because I knew it was going to burn.

And it did, going down my throat.

My brows furrowed.

"Another one," I demanded.

I set the glass down on the table with a thud.

He poured it.

The second glass was smoother.

By the third, I could finally breathe.

Take in air without feeling as if my entire chest was cramping.

"Someone had a rough day."

I looked up only to realise that the voice did not belong to the bar tender.

My brows raised, eyes following the bartender's eyes behind me.

I turned around to find a man there.

He was quite handsome in an effortless way.

He had short wavy dark hair.

Pointed aristocratic nose.

A perfectly chiselled jaw line that spoke volumes.

And his stormy gray eyes actually looked at me instead of through me.

Like Adrian's.

I studied the stranger.

He was in a suit.

His tie was loose.

It was as if he had given up on formality hours ago.

"You could say that," I replied.

He flashed me a smile.

I saw a perfect set of thirty two.

"Well then, someone has to cheer you up and make it better," he grinned.

He took a seat on the bar stool beside me.

My eyes followed him.

"Happiness is free."

A smile graced my lips.

He signaled the bartender.

"Please prepare another round for the lady and I," he strted.

My eyes narrowed into slits.

"I will have what she's having."

A little smirk slightly curved my lips.

"I can buy my own drinks."

He turned to me.

His smile was bright.

And it reached his eyes.

"Yes, I am sure you can do that."

He leaned in.

A whiff of his earthy cologne wafted into my nostrils.

The scent titillated my olfactory system.

"But let me do this anyway."

I tilted my head.

The action was questioning.

"You look like you could use a friendly gesture."

I shrugged.

"Alright," I agreed.

The bartender set down two glasses of whiskey and water then.

There was a small pause.

Then, I moved.

I picked the glass afore me.

My eyes were pinned on him.

I began to swirl the drink gently in my glass.

There was something familiar about him in that moment.

But I couldn't place it.

Probably because he had eyes like Adrian?

Was that why?

"I'm Lucas," he said, extending his hand.

My gaze lowered.

I stared down at it for a while.

"Lydia," I murmured him.

I offered my hand, accepting his.

"Beautiful name," he complimented as his large palms engulfed mine.

The handshake was firm.

But not in a possessive way like Adrian's grip usually was on my skin.

There was just something about it.

It felt... warm, genuine.

He let go of my palms.

The loss of warmth hit me.

But in a way that wasn't subtle.

My eyes left his.

They dropped to my glass which I raised to my lips.

Taking a sip.

"So whatever brings you here alone on a night like this, Lydia?" He asked.

My stomach did the thing.

I swallowed.

Then I looked up, nearly startled.

He was studying me with those gray eyes.

Like I was a jewel.

Though the intensity was controlled.

My heart rate spiked.

Still I gathered myself and spoke.

"The usual," I shrugged.

I took another sip of my whiskey.

"A little bit of family drama, you know?" I added with raised brows.

He nodded.

"What about you?"

I was instantly grateful when he looked away to pick up his own glass.

His gaze was piercing.

Almost like he could see through me.

He raised the glass and took a sip.

Then he dropped it.

He was smiling at me when he looked up.

"Well, just work stress. I have just finished a project that almost killed me."

A smile graced my own lips.

Mayhap because his was contagious.

Or because I found his statement funny?

He leaned back on his seat.

"You have a beautiful smile," he pointed out.

Something warm rose in my face.

My eyes widened.

There was no way that would be a blush.

I didn't blush.

At least not at men paying me petty compliments after buying me a glass.

"I know," I said.

My voice came out harder than I intended.

But he didn't seem to mind.

"A man has to escape one in a while," he continued to say after another sip.

I watched, saying nothing.

"Sometimes you will need to this"—he raised his glass—"to remember what it feels like to be human instead of a machine."

I understood that more than he knew because for years I had been one.

A machine.

I had been programmed to obey, to endure and to sacrifice without question.

The Darnells had made sure of it.

Never again.

"True," I agreed with him.

He quirked a brow at me.

I raised my glass.

"To being human," I said.

He leaned forward with a grin to clink his half empty glass against mine.

"To being human."

We talked for over an hour.

Petty things from his work at a firm which was after his life at all times.

Then I told him a bit about my abandoned dream of becoming an interior designer.

I also spoke of how I had given it up cause my family who needed me to take up a job at their company instead.

He had listened without judgement.

"That's a shame," Lucas said.

He rolled his eyes.

"I think you should pursue it. Life is really too short to live for other people."

I nodded.

"Yeah. I am starting to realize that."

The alcohol in my system was making me feel everything around me all at once.

Lucas was leaning in closer now.

And I could smell his cologne.

The redolence hit me and did something to me Adrian had never done.

His hand which was resting on the bar, just inches from mine, brushed my finger.

My throat tightened.

"Can I tell you something?" I asked.

He nodded.

"Anything."

I swallowed.

"I died today. Not literally, but close enough," I explained to him.

Not that he would understand.

But the words had tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop any of them.

"I have let people use me. Then I watched as they broke me and threw me away without even saying a word."

A sigh left my lips.

I shrugged.

"But I am done with all that shit now. I have decided I am going to burn it all down."

Lucas didn't laugh.

Though I expected him to.

He didn't even ask if I was drunk.

Instead, his feature hardened.

He just looked at me with those intense eyes that turned me on and spoke.

"Yes, you should burn it down and simply build something more from the ashes."

Maybe it was the whiskey.

Maybe it was the way he had kept looking straight at me like I mattered.

Maybe it was the knowledge?

That I had already died once and nothing should really scared me anymore?

Whichever it was, it was to blame when I leaned in slowly and kissed him.

He froze for half a second.

Then his hand came up to cup my face.

I swiftly melted into the kiss when he deepened it, instantly filled with hunger.

His other hand found my waist and pulled me closer.

My breath hitched.

His touch burned my skin.

"Do you want to get out of here?" he murmured against my lips.

With a ragged breath, "Yes."