Chapter 3

My fingers tightened around the phone. My heart pounded.

I remembered the time Lucas was away on a business trip. I was home alone in our rental, burning up with fever until I passed out. He flew back, scooped me up, and ran to the hospital like a madman.

In his arms, half-conscious, I heard him say my name over and over. Like he was terrified I'd never wake up.

I sighed, "Send me the address."

One last time. Call it even.

When I got to the private room, Lucas was curled up on the couch in agony. His face was gray, drenched in cold sweat. The second he saw me, he grabbed my hand. "Maya..."

I gave him his meds, helped him sip some warm water, then rubbed my hands together and massaged his stomach.

I went through the motions like I'd done a hundred times. I never once looked him in the eye.

But I could feel his gaze fixed on my face.

After about fifteen minutes, his body finally relaxed. The pain had mostly faded.

I stood up. "The meds are here. I'm going now."

Lucas caught my hand. "We'll go together."

He slowly got to his feet, grabbed his jacket, and walked out with me.

Behind us, Eva hid her irritation behind a mask of concern. "Lucas, get some rest. Text me when you're home so I don't worry."

He gave her a soft nod.

Outside by the car, I walked toward the driver's side. "I'll drive."

"Okay."

Once we were in, I adjusted the seat and caught a glimpse of something shiny in the crack between the seats.

Lucas was buckling his seatbelt. He didn't see what I saw.

I nudged it with my foot. A small plastic square slid out.

An open condom wrapper. My chest seized.

"What's wrong?" Lucas asked.

I swallowed. My hands were trembling as I gripped the steering wheel. "Nothing."

The drive was silent.

Twenty minutes. It felt like a century.

The first thing I did when we got home was run to the bathroom and scrub my hands. I don't know how many times I washed them. It never felt like enough.

Then I stripped off my clothes, threw them straight in the trash, and stepped into the shower.

I stayed under the water for an hour. Finally, Lucas came knocking. "Maya?"

"Almost done."

When I came out in fresh clothes and walked toward the bedroom, he was already in bed.

I turned toward the guest room instead.

"You're not sleeping here?" His voice was sharp.

"I'm going to the other room."

"Stop." He got up and walked over to me. "Maya. Are you done throwing your tantrum yet?"

"What tantrum?" I stood with my back to him and spoke softly.

"Is this still about the engagement party? I'll throw you another one. What more do you want? You're going to hold this one little thing against me forever?"

I let his words hit my back. One by one. They felt like ice.

"Your stomach just settled. Get some rest. I just didn't want to disturb you." I grabbed the flimsiest excuse I could find and walked into the guest room, closing the door behind me.

I was exhausted. I fell asleep early.

When I woke up, I saw a message from Violet. [Maya, corporate is in a rush. We fly tomorrow morning.]

I sat up and replied right away: [Got it, Ms. Lane.]

Then I scrolled through my feed.

My thumb stopped on Lucas's profile picture. At 3 AM, he'd posted: [Need advice: my girl is upset. Like, really upset. How do I fix it?]

His friends had chimed in.

[A designer bag cures everything.]

[Jewelry. Tons of options.]

He'd replied: [She's not into material things.]