Chapter 62: I Snapped.

Amaarae's POV 

“Oh, I’m sure there is,” she presses, her smile never wavering. “Lucas speaks highly of you.”

Her mention of Lucas irritates me. “And what do you think of me?” I counter, tilting my head.

“I think you’re...interesting,” she says, her eyes narrowing slightly.

“Is that so?”

She nods, her gaze unwavering. “I can see why Lucas keeps you around.”

Her words are casual, but they’re laced with something—an edge that makes my skin crawl.

“And why are you here?” I ask, cutting through the pleasantries.

She pauses, her smile faltering for the briefest moment. “To get to know you,” she says finally.

I don’t believe her, but I let her think I do. “Well, now you’ve met me,” I say, crossing my arms.

She laughs softly, the sound light but hollow. “Indeed.”

Later, back inside the house, I corner Lucas in the library. He’s flipping through a book, his expression calm, as if nothing unusual has happened today.

“Who is she?” I demand, my voice low but firm.

He doesn’t look up. “My girlfriend friend,” he says simply.

“That’s not good enough, Lucas,” I snapped.

He sighs, closing the book and finally meeting my gaze. “She’s...complicated. Don’t get involved, Amaarae.”

“Don’t get involved?” I repeat, incredulous. “She’s here, in my space, and you’re telling me not to get involved?”

He shrugs, as if it’s all out of his hands.

I glare at him, but he doesn’t offer anything more. Frustrated, I leave, my mind swirling with unanswered questions.

The unease lingers long after the sun sets. I don’t trust her, and I don’t trust Lucas’s silence. Something is brewing, and I’m caught in the middle of it. But one thing is clear: I won’t let her—or anyone else—dictate my place in this house.

The night is quiet, the kind of stillness that feels alive. I sit in the garden, my gaze fixed on the endless expanse of stars above. They shimmer like scattered diamonds, their light cool and distant. For a moment, I let myself get lost in their beauty, forgetting the strange events of the day.

The air is cool against my skin, carrying the faint scent of jasmine from the nearby flowers. Stargazing has always been a comfort for me, a way to escape the weight of whatever chaos surrounds me. Tonight, though, the stars feel different—less comforting, more detached.

I sigh and stand, brushing off my dress. The chill is beginning to seep into my bones, and the house calls to me like a sanctuary. As I walk back inside, the silence deepens, broken only by the soft creak of the wooden floorboards under my feet.

The hallway is dim, lit only by a few flickering wall sconces. The faint sound of something—a low, rhythmic noise—makes me pause. I tilt my head, listening closely. It’s coming from Lucas’s room.

His door is ajar, and a sliver of warm light spills into the hallway. My brows furrow. Lucas rarely leaves his door open, especially not at night. Something compels me to step closer, my bare feet silent against the floor. The sounds grow clearer—grunts, groans, and the unmistakable slap of skin against skin.

My heart pounds as I peer through the crack in the door.

Lucas is there, his bare back to me, his body moving with a steady, forceful rhythm. Beneath him, the woman from this morning writhes, her hands clutching at his shoulders, her head thrown back in ecstasy. The scene feels unreal, like something I shouldn’t be seeing but can’t look away from.

My breath catches in my throat, and I take an involuntary step back, but the motion draws Lucas’s attention. His head turns, and his eyes meet mine. For a split second, time stops.

His expression is unreadable—shock, maybe, or something darker. The woman doesn’t seem to notice, her moans filling the room as his movements falter.

I can't wait to see what happens next. My legs carry me away before my mind can catch up. I run, my footsteps louder now, echoing through the empty halls.

When I reach my room, I slam the door shut and lock it, my hands trembling. My chest heaves as I press my back against the door, trying to catch my breath.

What did I just see?

I squeeze my eyes shut, but the image is burned into my mind. Lucas, the woman, the raw intimacy of their movements—it’s seared into me, impossible to unsee. My stomach churns, a sick mix of anger, humiliation, and something I can’t quite name.

I pace the room, my mind racing. Why does it bother me so much? Lucas is free to do what he wants, and yet...

No. This isn’t just about him. It’s about her. The woman who invaded my space today, who smiled at me like she knew something I didn’t. And now this—this. Was this why she was here all along?

I feel a lump rise in my throat, but I swallow it down. Crying won’t help. Nothing will.

I stop pacing and sit on the edge of my bed, wrapping my arms around myself. The night feels colder now, the stars distant and indifferent. I thought they were a comfort, but now they just remind me how small and powerless I feel.

A soft knock on the door startles me, and my head snaps up. I don’t move, my heart hammering in my chest.

“Amaarae,” Lucas’s voice comes, low and hesitant.

I don’t answer.

“Open the door,” he says after a moment, his tone firmer this time.

“No,” I reply, my voice barely above a whisper.

There’s a long pause, and I imagine him standing there, his hand resting on the doorframe.

“I’m sorry,” he says finally.

The words hang in the air, but they don’t reach me. I don’t know what he’s apologizing for—for being caught? For betraying some unspoken trust? Or for something else entirely?

I don’t respond, and eventually, I hear his footsteps retreating down the hall.

When the silence returns, it’s almost unbearable. I crawl under the covers, pulling them tightly around me like a shield. But even in the darkness, the images linger, haunting me.

Sleep doesn’t come easily, and when it does, it’s restless and fractured. The stars, once a source of wonder, feel more like distant observers now, indifferent to the chaos below.