Chapter 248 248

Chapter 248 248


"I've got you," Lucas whispered, his voice dropping. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, pressing a series of slow, lingering kisses right over her pulse point. "I'll go slower... as slow as you need, my love."

Blair’s hands tangled into his hair, her fingers tightening as another soft gasp escaped her lips.

Lucas lifted his head just enough to look down at her, his eyes brimming with an intense devotion that made her core melt. 

He gently brushed a damp strand of hair away from her forehead, his thumb tracing the curve of her cheekbone with care.

"I love you," he rasped, his warm breath fanning over her mouth before he leaned down to capture her lips in a deep, agonizingly gentle kiss. "God, Blair... I love you so much."

A long, sigh spilled from Blair’s lips as the quiet room finally settled back around them.

Lucas collapsed softly onto his elbows, holding most of his weight off her while his forehead rested against her shoulder. 

His chest rose and fell in heavy, ragged breaths, his skin warm and slick against hers.

He didn't pull away. He just stayed right there, burying his face in the crook of her neck and breathing her in like a man who’d spent years starving in the dark.

"You were so good..." Lucas rasped, his voice thick and low, vibrating right against her collarbone. 

He lifted his head slightly, his dark eyes searchingly scanning her flush cheeks, searching for any sign of discomfort. "Let me take care of you now, okay? I didn't hurt your side, right? Tell me if I was too rough, my love."

Blair shook her head softly, a faint, contented smile touching her lips as she ran her fingers through his messy hair. "You didn't hurt me, Lucas. I'm okay."

"Good," he murmured, kissing her jaw line before sliding down the study couch .

He gently lifted the soft edge of the duvet and leaned down, pressing a series of slow, sweet kisses along the tender, sore inner skin of her thighs.

"I'll make it up to you," he whispered against her skin, making her shiver. "Every single day. I swear it."

He pulled the heavy comforter up to her shoulders, tucking her in securely before sliding in beside her and pulling her flush against his chest. 

His arm wrapped tightly around her waist, his thumb stroking her hip in  circles.

Blair rested her head on his shoulder, her heart beating an against his ribs.

For a long time, neither of them said a word. They just listened to the quiet house and the soft sound of their breathing.

"Hey," Lucas murmured into the dark, his voice low and raspy.
"Hmm?"
"Spring."
Blair shifted slightly, looking up at his sharp jawline. "Spring?"

Lucas turned his head, his dark eyes catching the soft moonlight filtering through the curtains. "For the wedding. 

I don't want to wait until next year, but I want your mother to fully recover, and I want Mave to understand what's happening." He kissed the tip of her nose. "Spring gives us a few months."

Blair’s breath stopped , a sudden, sweet warmth blooming in her chest. "Spring... that sounds perfect."

"Small?" he asked, his thumb still tracing her hip. "Or do you want the full Brooks Manor spectacle?"

Blair let out a quiet laugh, burying her face into his chest. "Definitely small. Just family. Just the people who actually care about us."

"Done," Lucas said softly, resting his chin on top of her head. "A small garden ceremony. Mave can carry the rings—he’ll probably try to keep them, but we’ll manage."
A soft giggle escaped her, her hands tightening in his shirt.

\~~~~
Next morning……

She sat quietly on the stone bench at the edge of the terrace, wrapped in a thick knit sweater, watching Mave run circles around his grandmother. 

He was holding a yellow plastic rake, jabbering away about making a house for a caterpillar, and her mother was listening as if it were the most vital news in the world.
A light rustle of gravel sounded behind her.
“Blair?”
Blair turned her head.
Patricia stood a few feet away near the rose arch.

Blair slowly stood up. “Mrs. Brooks…”

“Please,” Patricia said, her voice small and entirely unadorned. “Just mom.”
Blair hesitated, her thumb tracing the hem of her sleeve, before giving a brief nod.

Patricia drew a deep, breath, her hands folded tightly in front of her. “I’ve been waiting for the right moment to talk to you.”

Blair’s posture stiffened slightly, her fingers tightening into the wool of her cardigan.

Patricia stepped closer, her heels making no sound on the damp grass. “I owe you an apology.”

Blair said nothing. She didn't offer an easy way out, nor did she pretend the weight between them wasn't real.

“I owe you a real one,” Patricia continued, her dark eyes looking straight into Blair’s. “Not the polite kind where I ask for a clean slate and expect you to forget the hell you were put through.” Her voice trembled, a crack appearing in her tight discipline. “I was completely, terribly wrong about you, Blair.”

Blair lowered her gaze to the stone path.

“I judged you before I ever took the time to know your name,” Patricia said, her voice thick with swallowed shame. 

She shook her head slowly, a bitter, self-smile touching her lips. “And I couldn't have been further from the truth.”

A single tear spilled over Patricia’s lashes, tracking down her cheek.

“I failed you as Lucas’s mother. And I failed you as Mave’s grandmother.” She closed her eyes briefly, her breath ceasing  in her throat. “And when Olivia stood in that hospital corridor and took credit for the blood that saved my life... I believed her.”

Blair’s expression softened just a fraction, the raw grief on the older woman's face impossible to ignore. “I know you didn’t know. She lied to everyone.”

“That is no excuse,” Patricia countered firmly, opening her eyes. “I should have known better. I should have asked for the medical registry. I should have looked at the charts myself. But I accepted Olivia’s story because it was convenient. Because it fit into the neat, respectable picture I wanted for my family.”

She took one more step, stopping just short of Blair’s space.

“And you paid the price for my willful blindness,” Patricia rasped, tears streaming freely down her face now. “For five whole years, you raised Mave in the shadows, struggling alone. And while you were carrying that immense burden, I was living my comfortable life, treating a liar like a savior.”

A hot tear finally broke past Blair’s lashes, burning down her cheek.

Patricia reached out a trembling hand toward Blair’s arm, but stopped herself mid-air, pulling it back as if she hadn't earned the right to touch her.

“I am so sorry, Blair,” she whispered, her voice fracturing. “I am sorry for every crue thought I ever had about you. 

I am sorry for giving my trust to Olivia instead of looking for the truth. And I am so bitterly sorry that when you needed a family most, I became just another wall keeping you out in the cold.”

Blair stood silent for a long moment, the morning breeze whipping a stray lock of dark hair across her face. She wiped her cheek with the back of her sweater.

“You hurt me,” Blair whispered, her voice raw. “You made me feel like I was nothing.”
“I know,” Patricia choked out. “I know.”

Blair turned her head slightly, looking across the green lawn. Mave was currently trying to put his little yellow rake into his grandmother's apron pocket, his clear, bell-like laughter ringing across the garden.

A quiet breath left Blair’s lips.

“I’ve spent five years carrying anger,” Blair said softly, turning back to Patricia. “I don’t want to spend the rest of my life holding onto it.”

Slowly, Blair reached out and closed her fingers over Patricia’s cold, trembling hand.

Patricia gasped, a fresh wave of tears spilling over as her hand squeezed Blair’s with quiet, desperate gratitude. “Thank you, Blair... thank you.”

Blair offered a tiny, watery smile. “You’re still Mave’s grandmother.”

Patricia wiped her cheek with her sleeve, a breathless, tearful laugh escaping her chest. “And I intend to spend every single day I have left making up for the years I missed.”

“Good,” Blair said softly, her eyes shining. “Because he has endless energy. He’s going to exhaust you.”

“I certainly hope so.”
“Mommy!”
The sharp, happy shout cut through the morning air.

Blair turned her head toward the lawn. Mave was waving his little arms frantically from the edge of the grass. “Mommy, come look! Granny found a beetle!”

“I’m coming, sweet boy!” Blair called back, her voice light and clear.
She took a step forward, but stopped as a shadow fell across the stone path.

Lucas was walking out from the glass doors of the conservatory. He had discarded his suit jacket, wearing only a soft charcoal sweater with his sleeves pushed up, his dark eyes instantly finding Blair in the morning light.

He didn't look at his mother, nor did he ask what had been said. He simply walked straight to Blair, slipping his arm around her waist and pulling her gently against his side. 

His warm hand rested securely on her hip, his thumb stroking through the fabric of her dress.

Patricia looked at the two of them standing together, and gave a small, quiet nod of respect before turning to join her grandson on the lawn.

Lucas leaned down, his lips brushing against Blair’s temple, his warm breath fanning across her skin.
“You okay?” he murmured softly.

Blair rested her head against his shoulder, watching Mave giggling with both of his grandmothers in the grass. She took a deep breath of the cold morning air, her hand coming up to rest over Lucas’s on her hip.

“Yeah,” she whispered, a genuine, beautiful smile lighting up her face. “I’m really okay.”