Chapter 3
The first time I met Lucas was under that bridge. He was holding a suit in his arms, neat and without a single wrinkle.
I laughed at him, saying he cared too much about his pride—already a drifter, yet still keeping a suit.
He mocked himself, saying if he didn't have that suit, he wouldn't even get a chance to meet investors.
I watched him for a few days and thought he was interesting.
He could spend all his savings on a cup of coffee just to sit in a café and use the Wi-Fi.
He could also go shirtless, digging through trash cans for leftover meals.
He could sit with investors in fancy restaurants and talk business with ease.
He could also wash dishes day and night at a restaurant because he couldn't pay for food.
I asked him, "Isn't this too hard? Wouldn't getting a real job be better than starting a business like this?"
He replied, "I can't wait. My sister is still in the hospital. If I don't have 300 thousand dollars within a year, she won't even get the chance for surgery."
A regular job could never make 300 thousand dollars in a year.
But starting a business was a brutal task.
Looking at those gentle eyes under his messy bangs, I felt a sudden rush in my chest and joined him.
I rented a cheap apartment and brought back cheap food for the two of us every day.
Lucas focused on the tech side, while I worked on deals and investments, went to endless business parties, and drank countless glasses of liquor.
The smell of hard liquor was sharp, and it burned my stomach when I swallowed it. I often drank until I threw up.
Once, my stomach bled. To save money, I forced myself to walk home without medicine.
Lucas, for once, put down his work and cared for me all night.
His eyes were full of worry and pain. He even made chicken chowder for me.
Eating that chowder, I felt warmth spread through my chest.
When our eyes met, he promised me with red eyes, "We'll make it. Believe me."
I smiled, resting my hand on his neck, and said without a second thought, "Of course I believe you. I always have."
I forgot if it was him or me who kissed first that night.
All I remembered was that bowl of chowder falling to the floor.
It was the first time we wasted food, and also the first time we opened our hearts, fully accepting each other.
He asked me what wish I wanted to fulfill after we made it.
I held him tightly and answered, "I want a home. A home of my own."
He gripped my hand and nodded, devout like a believer. "Alright, I'll give you a home. Our home."
In the first year, I got the investment. Lucas earned 300 thousand dollars and paid off his sister's medical bills.
In the third year, the company grew big. Lucas bought me a house and decorated it exactly the way I liked.
In the sixth year, the company went public. Lucas proposed to me.
Now it was the seventh year of our journey together. I thought our home would only get warmer and fuller.
But when I opened the door, the house was cold and empty, without a single light on.
A quick flip of the switch, and warm orange light flooded the room.
I saw the chicken chowder bubbling in the pot, filling the air with a mouthwatering aroma.
Lucas walked over with a bowl of chowder, his face full of tenderness and guilt.
"I looked everywhere for you but couldn't find you," he said. "I thought you might come home, so I turned on the heat and made some hot chowder for you."
The apology was practically written across his handsome face.
He pressed his lips together, gently pulling up my hand. "I lost control tonight. Forgive me, will you?"
His eyes shimmered, filled with pain and longing for me.
He went on, "I shouldn't have left you behind. This was all my fault. The moment the car rolled away, I regretted it.
"I came back for you, but they told me you'd taken off the ring I gave you.
"At that moment, I panicked. I was terrified.
"I was afraid you didn't want me anymore.
"Jessica, don't leave me. I-I can't live without you!"
He rubbed the wedding ring he'd been clutching against my fingertip, his every move cautious, almost begging.
But I pulled my hand back, resolute, my eyes cold.
His eyes went wide with shock as I reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet.
"Do you dare repeat what you just said in front of this picture?" I asked, opening it.
But the moment I spoke, I froze. The photo tucked inside his wallet wasn't the old water-damaged one of a girl with a necklace anymore.
Staring at the bright smile of myself in a red dress, I faltered.
When I lifted my gaze again, I met the starlight in Lucas's eyes.
He explained, "Not long after you asked me about that picture, I threw it away and replaced it with yours.
"Jessica, I love you. And I only love you."
My lips trembled. "What about Sandra?"
His eyes turned cold. "She's just a woman who once betrayed me. She's nothing compared to you."
At that moment, I chose to trust him.
After all, we'd been together seven years. I'd stood by him through his darkest times.
The ice around my heart slowly melted.
Lucas pulled me into his arms and pressed a kiss against my forehead.
His broad shoulders, just like always, made me feel safe.
Just then, his phone started ringing—breaking the moment.