Chapter 43 43
Blair’s heart slammed against her ribs.
She stepped back this time, breaking contact, fingers curling into fists.
“It’s nothing,” she said too quickly. “Just… an old injury.”
But Lucas wasn’t convinced.
His gaze lingered on the spot like it was trying to remember something it had forgotten.
Because somehow—
That scar felt like a memory.
And it terrified him that his body seemed to recognize her before his mind ever could.
Lucas’s thumb hovered, like it wanted to trace more—like his body was reaching for answers his mind couldn’t name.
He took a sharp step back.
“—No.” He dragged a hand through his hair, gripping it hard, breath uneven. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, voice strained, eyes briefly squeezed shut. “I don’t know what came over me.”
Blair didn’t wait.
She nodded once—too fast—and turned.
“Excuse me,” she said, already moving.
She left the office almost at a run.
\---
The café down the hallway, the afternoon lull settling in. Blair barely registered the bell above the door as she slipped inside and went straight to the corner.
Her knees hit the floor behind the counter.
She pressed her fist to her mouth, shoulders shaking.
“That was close,” she whispered, tears spilling freely now. “Too close, Blair.”
Her reflection stared back at her from the stainless-steel surface—eyes too bright, face flushed, chest still rising too fast.
Why do you always lose it when he looks at you?
her mind whispered cruelly.
Why do you always let him catch you when you’re about to fall?
“I’m trying,” she breathed. “I’m trying.”
Just one truth, the voice persisted.
One truth… and Maverick can see his daddy.
Her breath hitched.
“No,” Blair whispered fiercely, shaking her head. “No.”
Yes, Blair, the voice coaxed.
Daddy will be happy. And so will he.
Tears streamed down her face.
“No,” she said again, louder now, as if saying it enough times would make it real. “I can’t. I can’t ruin it.”
Images flashed—
Lucas’s smile beside Olivia,
their engagement photos,
the way they looked like they belonged together.
“They look happy,” Blair sobbed. “I can’t destroy that. I always ruin everything. Always.”
She slid down fully, back against the cabinet, pulling her knees to her chest.
Her hand pressed instinctively over her heart—over the secret that beat there, breathing, living, calling him Daddy in dreams.
“I won’t,” she whispered through tears. “I won’t do it again.”
Back in the office, Lucas stood alone.
The door Blair had fled through still felt… open.
He braced both hands on the desk, head lowered, breathing hard—like he’d just surfaced from deep water.
“That scar…” he muttered.
His chest tightened.
Then—
It hit him.
Not clearly.
But enough.
\---
Five years ago.
Valentine’s night.
His birthday.
The room had been , warm, smelling faintly of whiskey and rain.
Laughter still rang in his ears, but it was fading—everything had been fading except her.
She had been standing close.
“Careful,” she had teased, fingers brushing his chest as he stumbled slightly.
And then—
Pain.
A sharp sting near her neck.
She had gasped softly when she bumped into the broken edge of a decorative mirror on the wall.
“Shit—” he had cursed immediately.
Blood. Just a little.
He’d gone still, panic sobering him instantly.
“Hey… hey, don’t move,” he had whispered, hands already on her, gentler than he’d ever been with anyone. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“I’m fine,” she had said, breathless, eyes shining. “It doesn’t even hurt.”
But it had.
He remembered it now.
How he’d cupped her face, thumb brushing that exact spot on her neck—
how his heart had pounded at the sight of even a single mark on her skin.
“You’re going to scar,” he’d said quietly.
She had smiled. “Then I’ll remember you.”
That was when he kissed it slowly.
Like he was sealing something sacred.
“I’ll never forget you,” he had said against her skin.
The memory snapped away.
Lucas sucked in a sharp breath, eyes flying open.
“No…” he whispered.
His hand rose to his mouth, fingers trembling.
“That scar,” he said again, voice hoarse. “That was… that was her.”
His mind had registered it long before his heart caught up.
And now—
Now his body knew.
He staggered back a step, pulse roaring in his ears.
“Blair…” he breathed.
Lucas sank into the leather chair, hands gripping his head as if trying to physically pull the memory into focus.
His chest heaved, pulse racing.
I remember… his mind whispered, almost pleading with him. Her hair… soft, blonde… the way I ran my fingers through it…
He froze.
Blair.
Brunette.
That doesn’t fit.
It was too much of a coincidence, too perfect to ignore. His brain refused to reconcile the image with the reality in front of him.
He pressed his palms harder against his temples, teeth gritting. The room seemed to tilt, walls closing in.
Her face—the details—refused to click.
Frustration and panic clawed at him. He felt faint. The air around him thickened.
He stumbled to the desk, breathing ragged, reaching for his pills.
Two tablets slid into his palm.
He swallowed them quickly, chasing them with a gulp of water from the glass beside him.
The burn of the pills went down his throat, a small relief amid the storm of confusion inside him.
He leaned back, eyes squeezed shut, trying to force the memory—to remember her face, her laugh, the curve of her smile.
The office door clicked softly.
A young secretary poked her head in, clipboard in hand, eyes cautious.
“Sir… your new business partner is here,” she said gently.
Lucas lifted his head slowly, still rubbing his temples, trying to settle the storm in his mind.
He straightened, forcing composure. The
confusion and panic of the past hour had to be pushed aside—this was business.
“Right,” he said, voice steady, practiced. “Let him in, please.”
The secretary nodded and stepped aside, opening the door fully.