By the time Lukas and I make it home, I’m pretty sure he’s ready to collapse. I was tired too, right up until I stepped into the house. Then, boom. Wide awake. It’s like I just downed a dozen shots of espresso, my entire body suddenly buzzing with restless energy. Lukas, meanwhile, is clearly not experiencing the same burst of wakefulness. He slumps onto the couch, half dead already, waiting for the dinner he ordered to be delivered so that he can pass out for the next eight to ten hours. Which means NOW is the perfect time for me to finally take the shower I wanted to take earlier. I still feel gross from everything that’s happened today, physically, mentally, emotionally. Since Lukas looks like he needs some time alone to recharge anyway, I take my time. I wash my hair properly. Shave my legs, even though I definitely don’t need to. I do every extra and unnecessary part of my beauty routine I can think of, just to fill time and hopefully wind myself down enough to actually sleep later. I’m just slathering moisturizer over my arms and legs when I hear a phone ringing. It’s not mine. Which means… It must be Lukas’s, unless some other random person has broken into my home which seems unlikely to have happened without me noticing. A weird uneasy feeling prickles at the back of my neck. I’m not sure I’ve actually heard him get a phone call the entire time he’s been staying with me. Make them? Sure, but he doesn’t really get a lot of calls. And it can’t be from work. It’s not late, but it’s definitely late enough that no one at the office would be calling him. Is something happening at the bar? Is it Wren? My phone is in my bedroom charging. What if I left it on silent? What if there’s an emergency? Heart pounding, I finish yanking on my pyjamas and rush out of my room. Lukas is already on the phone, his posture tense, his expression carefully blank. He glances up as I all but sprint into the room, gives a heavy sigh, then shrugs. Okay. So… Not an emergency. But definitely not a call he wants to be having, either. I slow down, but curiosity keeps me moving closer. Who could it be? I creep in, hovering just slightly too close, tilting my head toward the phone like a nosy cat. Lukas listens to most of my conversations via my thoughts, that would be convenient right about now. Since I don’t have that luxury, I do the next best thing. I shamelessly invade his personal space and eavesdrop. Lukas doesn’t object. He doesn’t encourage it either, but after a second, he just sighs and tugs me in closer, looping an arm around my waist so I can listen properly. I still can’t identify the voice on the other end, but she sounds female, and hysterical. Then Lukas pulls the phone slightly away from his face.
“My mother. From a blocked number.” He mutters. Oh. That explains… A lot. He probably answered just in case it was someone we actually know. I would have.
*You know, you COULD just hang up on her.* I think it at him, and judging by the way his hand tightens slightly around me, he hears it loud and clear.
*But if you haven’t already, then I guess you have your reasons for hearing her out.* I continue. He gives a slight nod, half a shrug, half frustration.
*Can I interpret that to mean that you thought or hoped it would be worth hearing her out, but now you’re regretting that decision?* I confirm, doing my best to read his expression. He exhales slowly, then nods again. I focus on the voice coming through the phone, trying to make out her words. Her tone is high-pitched, desperate, laced with that particular kind of manipulative guilt only a truly toxic parent can wield.
“I just don’t understand how you can be so SELFISH!” She screeches. I immediately feel Lukas’s entire body go rigid.
“You NEED to come home, IMMEDIATELY! If you don’t, my deal with Solem will fall through, and your father…” She pauses, like she’s about to deliver the most crushing statement of all.
“He’s going to DIE, and it will be your fault!” She hisses the words. I see red. Lukas doesn’t flinch. His expression doesn’t change. But his grip on me tightens. Not enough to hurt, not enough for anyone else to notice if they happened to be watching, but I notice. Because I’m right here, pressed against his side, and I know that kind of tension. He’s calm. Too calm. Like he’s forcing it. Like if he lets go, even a little, he might snap and I hate her for making him feel that way.
“Mother, It’s… too late for him.” Lukas says, his voice even, steady. The way he says it, soft and resigned makes my chest ache.
“My dad is already dead. There is nothing left of him in there.” He continues. I can feel the weight behind those words. And suddenly, I understand. I don’t get along with my own parents. But that’s different. That’s expectations and pressure and them wanting me to be someone I’m not. Lukas’s mother? She wants to sell him off like a commodity. Like his entire existence is just a bargaining chip for her own benefit. I look up at him. He’s struggling for words, his expression is still blank, but his arm is holding me so tightly it almost hurts.
*Can I say something?* I ask, an idea forming. Since the last time I met his mother, I’ve mentally rehearsed about a million arguments with her I mean, what else am I supposed to do in the shower?
Lukas hesitates for about a tenth of a second. Then without a word, he just hands me the phone. Excellent. I lift it to my ear properly. His mother is still rambling, her voice sharp and insistent, like she’s trying to talk over reality itself until it bends to her will. I clear my throat loudly. She pauses. For the first time, she seems to register that the person on the other end of the phone is not actually her son. Perfect.
“Mrs. Hollen.” I say smoothly, my tone polite, but firm.
“I’ve been hoping for a chance to speak with you again.” I inform her. She starts to say something, but I just keep talking, cutting her off completely.
“First, I just wanted to say, I really am sorry about your husband. You clearly care about him very much, and it must be painful for you to lose him.” My voice is even. Sympathetic, even. But I don’t stop.
“I understand that you must be grieving. Or maybe you haven’t quite gotten to that part yet. Either way, I really am sorry. But…” My tone sharpens just slightly.
“Lukas is not responsible for your decisions. If you made some deal, then you need to take responsibility for it. You cannot use your son as payment. Because, newsflash, you don’t actually own him.” I declare. The words hang in the air. Then, with one final, perfectly cool statement, I deliver the last blow. This part I have definitely practiced in the shower.
“So I suggest you back off and spend some time with the family you have left, before you drive them all away too.” I say clearly. And then, without waiting for a response, I hang up. I blink down at the phone. Then I frown.
“Hanging up a touchscreen phone angrily is really not satisfying, I guess there were some advantages to those old landlines, huh?” I mutter, more to myself than to anyone else. I glance up at Lukas, expecting something, maybe amusement, maybe mild exasperation, maybe even a lecture about how I probably shouldn’t have hijacked his conversation. But no. He’s just staring at me. Wide eyed and completely stunned. How is he shocked? Has he not caught any of my mental rehearsing for this conversation? Oh, right. I mostly rehearsed it in the shower. So, yeah. He probably missed that part. Still, it’s not like I said anything I haven’t already told him before.
“You are seriously the most wonderful person I have ever met.” Lukas announces suddenly, his voice steady, his expression completely serious. I blink. Then I feel my face go warm. I quickly look away, shrugging a little.
“I just told her what I’ve been thinking.” I say awkwardly.
“That’s why it was amazing.” Lukas says simply. Then, before I can react, he just wraps his other arm around me, pulling me into a tight, firm hug. I freeze for half a second. Then I melt into it. I still don’t know quite what he’s so impressed by. But I do know one thing, he’s not as tense as he was before, so at least for now, he’s okay.
The good news is, tearing into Lukas’s mum a little bit was exactly what I needed to burn off my remaining nervous energy. So by the time we finish eating, I’m ready for sleep. I barely manage to drag myself through the rest of my nighttime routine before collapsing into bed, tugging the blankets up to my chin with a satisfied sigh. Then I look up and see Lukas awkwardly hovering by the doorway. I blink up at him sleepily.
“The couch still isn’t set up.” He informs me. I raise an eyebrow. It’s not that late. It would take him two minutes to set up the couch if he actually wanted to. That is clearly an excuse. I wait, but he doesn’t elaborate. I assume he’s hinting that he wants to share my bed again. I mean, it is way more comfortable. I hesitate, considering. I still haven’t fully worked out my feelings yet. And, technically, we still haven’t talked about that kiss earlier. We should talk about that before sharing a bed again, right? But… He is tired. His day was just as long and exhausting as mine. Is there any real reason not to let him stay? I trust him. And he’s already slept in here twice now. What’s one more night? I exhale slowly.
“Well… Come on then.” I mutter. Lukas’s face lights up. His entire posture shifts from cautious hesitation to barely restrained eagerness, and before I can even process it, he’s already climbing into bed beside me, slipping under the covers like he’s afraid I might change my mind if he moves too slowly. I flick off the light and almost immediately, his arms are around me. He tugs me back against his chest, settling in like we’ve done this a thousand times before. I feel his breath ghost against my ear before he speaks.
“I just wanted to say, you did a really great job today. Just… in general.” He whispers. Then he presses a kiss to my cheek. It’s soft, gentle, and just a little closer to my mouth than a strictly platonic cheek kiss should be. I freeze for half a second because I’m tempted. Really tempted. If I just tilted my head, if I just turned slightly, I could kiss him properly. But I don’t. Because Lukas and I need to have a real conversation before I do anything like that. And not while we’re both exhausted. So I stay put.
“Another time.” He whispers softly, proving once again that he’s listening to my thoughts. Then he pulls me tighter against him, his arms firm and solid around me, and settles in. Screw it. I curl up against his side and let my eyes drift closed. It doesn’t take long at all for me to fall asleep.