Chapter 3: Who does he think he is?

Chapter 3: Who does he think he is?

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Emily Carter

As soon as Cynthia disappears around the corner with her perfume still hanging in the air like nosey gossip, I turn to Lucas, my arms fold before my brain even tells them to, like my body remembers how to protect itself before my heart does, like I’ve done this a thousand times before and still never learned how to stop

"What do you want?" I ask, and my voice doesn’t come out polite, it comes out tired, tired in the way grief gets tired, deep, old, worn in like jeans that don’t fit anymore, like something inside me is just… done

Lucas sighs, that same sigh he used to give when he didn’t know how to love me the way I needed, and it hits something raw in my chest " I just want to talk" he says, I laugh... not loud and not funny, just… a sound, hollow, empty, like even my laugh has given up on me "talk? About what, Lucas? Talk about how you dumped me on our wedding day? At the alter?"

His jaw twitches, he looks down like the floor could save him, like he can’t even look at the damage he caused " Em, you don’t understand-" I cut him off with a raise of my hand, my fingers trembling just slightly "Please, just do me a favor and leave me alone, I’ve been doing so well before you came back" and it's true, not healed and not whole but alive, barely, but still breathing

He looks at me like I stabbed him... like he gets to be hurt, like he didn’t rip my world apart first "one day, Em" he says quietly, eyes soft, voice almost trembling, like he’s holding onto something I can’t see, "one day you’ll know everything" then he turns and walks away, and I hate how my chest tightens watching him leave, I close the door, lean on it, laugh under my breath, shaky, bitter

"Who does he think he is?" Lucas disappeared without a reason, no call, no letter heck not even a coward’s text, the day I was supposed to walk down the aisle in that stupid lace gown I picked because he said it made me look like home, and God I was stupid enough to believe him

I buried him in my chest and learned to breathe around the grave, learned to live with the ache like it was part of me, I don’t want to talk about him, I don’t want to remember and I certainly don’t want to feel, not again, not ever

NOW

The present hits like cold water down my spine, sharp, unforgiving… Adrian, standing at my door like time folded in on itself, like the past refused to stay buried, I swear my heart stops before it remembers how to beat again, like it forgot how to survive him

"How - how did you find me?" I stutter, my voice betraying me, small, fragile, he doesn’t answer, of course he doesn’t, Adrian never talks when silence can make you choke, and right now I feel like I’m suffocating

He steps inside without waiting for permission, the room somehow shrinks around him, like the walls know he’s the bigger threat, like everything in me is screaming to run but my feet won’t move, his gaze lands on Seth and my breath turns to glass, sharp, fragile, ready to shatter, he looks back at me and I recognize the storm behind his eyes... controlled, dangerous, familiar, terrifyingly familiar

"Is he mine?" he asks, and my throat closes, panic clawing its way up my chest " no" I lie, too fast, too desperate, he chuckles, a slow, lazy sound that somehow makes the room hotter, thicker, harder to breathe in "Seth baby" I say softly, my voice cracked a little, breaking at the edges "Can you go to your room for a few minutes? I’ll be there soon"

Seth looks between us, like even at his age he can feel the electricity burning the air, the tension snapping between us like a live wire, he nods, quiet, obedient, grabs his little robot toy, and disappears into his room, I wait till the door clicks shut, my chest aches and my hands are shaking, I hate that he saw even a piece of this

"What do you want?" I ask, trying to sound stronger than the earthquake happening under my skin, like I’m not seconds away from breaking apart, I crouch to pick up the broken glass spilled from earlier, paper towel scratching across the floor, the sound too loud in the silence, I can already tell this stain will stay, just like every other thing I try to clean away, just like him

"Is he mine?" Adrian repeats, his voice cutting through me, sharp and unrelenting " no" I whisper again, weaker this time, and the lie tastes metallic, like blood at the back of my throat, he follows me into the kitchen like a shadow I can’t step out of, like he’s always been there, always will be, up close he looks different, older, broader and more carved out of steel than flesh, harder, colder, his presence fills the room like thunder heavy in the clouds, waiting to break " then whose is he?" he asks

"That’s none of your business" I fire back, it sounds brave but my voice breaks on the last syllable, betraying me, exposing me, he moves, I don’t even see it, one moment there’s space, the next his body is right in front of mine, too close, too real, my back hits the counter, the impact sending a shock through me

His hand big, warm and rough... wraps around my throat, not squeezing, just claiming, just reminding, my breath stutters, caught somewhere between fear and something much more dangerous

Memories I never wanted to remember flash like lightning, fast, blinding, the way his hands used to guide, hold, command, the way I melted before I even knew I was melting, before I even knew I was his, my body betrays me first, always has, always will

My pulse jumps, erratic, uncontrollable, heat rolls low in my stomach, slow and dangerous, my thighs tighten together on instinct, my body reacting faster than my brain, traitors, all of them, I hate it, I hate him, I hate how I feel "don’t lie to me, Emily" he says, his voice doesn’t raise, it doesn’t need to, it drags over my skin like smoke from a burning match, slow, suffocating

I shake my head, trying to form words but the world narrows to the feel of his thumb stroking my jaw, gentle, almost tender, and that somehow makes it worse, makes everything worse, then he leans in and his tongue runs slow, deliberate... across my bottom lip

A sound escapes me, a soft, broken moan I wish I could swallow back down, shame and hunger collide inside me like two cars that never saw each other coming, violent, unstoppable "what is this?" I whisper, breath trembling against his mouth, my voice barely there, barely mine

He smiles like a man who already knows the answer, like he knew the second he saw Seth, like he never forgot me, not for a second

Never stopped wanting me, never stopped owning me.