Chapter 83 83
Then reality slipped back in.
She became aware of Lucas’s hands—still at her waist, steady but no longer necessary. His thumbs rested just above her hip bones .
She swallowed once.
Then leaned in—just enough so her lips brushed the shell of his ear when she spoke.
“You can let me go now,” she murmured. “I think we’re done playing perfect parents.”
Lucas’s fingers flexed once against her waist—before he released her completely. His hands dropped to his sides. He stepped back half a pace, giving her space, though his eyes stayed locked on hers.
.
Mave, oblivious, tugged at Lucas’s pant leg.
“Daddy! Again! Fly Mommy again!”
Lucas cleared his throat, forced a small smile for his son.
“Maybe later, champ. Mommy might need a break from flying.”
Blair smoothed her hoodie down, avoiding Lucas’s gaze now, cheeks still warm.
“Yeah,” she said lightly, forcing brightness into her voice for Mave’s benefit. “Mommy’s feet need to stay on the ground for a while.”
She crouched to Mave’s level, ruffling his curls.
“How about we finish the rocket instead? It still needs a door for the astronauts.”
Mave gasped in excitement and dove back toward the blocks.
Blair stayed low, busying herself with the toys, giving Lucas—and herself—a moment to breathe.
Lucas watched her for a long second: the way she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, the gentle curve of her neck when she bent forward, the soft laugh she gave when Mave made the rocket “whoosh” with his hand.
Then he exhaled—slowly—and sat back down on the rug beside them.
The playroom had grown quiet as evening settled over the mansion. Mave’s eyelids were heavy, his little rocket ship finally “landed” on the rug beside the scattered magnetic blocks. He yawned hugely, rubbing one eye with the back of his fist.
Blair scooped him up gently. “Time for bed, moonwalker.”
Mave nestled against her shoulder, already half-asleep. “Story first… the one with the brave astronaut and the friendly alien…”
Lucas stood, brushing off his jeans. “I’ve got this one.”
Blair laid Mave in the center of the big bed with the safety rails, pulling the superhero comforter up to his chin. Lucas sat on the edge, Blair on the other side, their knees almost touching over the small body between them.
Blair started the story, voice low and soothing.
“Once upon a time, there was a brave astronaut named Mave. He flew his rocket ship high above the clouds, higher than anyone had ever gone…”
Lucas picked up the next line seamlessly.
“…until one night he met a friendly alien who looked like a big fluffy cloud with eyes. The alien said, ‘Hello, Mave! Want to see my secret star garden?’”
Mave smiled sleepily, eyes fluttering. “And they picked glowing flowers… and ate space cookies…”
Blair continued softly, “And every time Mave felt scared or alone, the alien would hold his hand and say, ‘You’re never really alone, because friends—and family—can find you anywhere in the universe.’”
Lucas’s voice dropped even lower. “And they flew home together, safe and happy, under the same stars that are watching over you right now.”
Mave sighed, already drifting. “Love you, Mommy… love you, Daddy…”
“Love you more,” they answered at the same time—quiet, instinctive.
Blair leaned down and kissed his forehead. Lucas followed, brushing a curl off the boy’s brow. Mave’s breathing evened out within seconds, small hand still loosely holding the corner of the blanket.
They sat in silence for another minute—watching him sleep—before Blair finally rose.
She smoothed the comforter one last time, then turned toward the door.
Lucas stood too.
They stepped into the hallway together. The door clicked shut behind them—softly.
Blair started toward the east wing corridor without looking at him.
Lucas’s voice stopped her after three steps.
“Blair.”
She paused, back still to him.
He walked closer—slowly,—until he was only an arm’s length away.
“I need to say something,” he said quietly. “About earlier. In the bathroom.”
She turned then, arms crossed loosely over her chest like armor.
Lucas exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck.
“I was… under the influence. I didn’t know until after. But even if I hadn’t—” He met her eyes steadily. “I wouldn’t have wanted to touch you like that. Not without you wanting it. Not like that. I’m sorry. Truly. I never want you to feel afraid of me. Ever.”
Blair studied him for a long moment—searching his face, the sincerity in his voice, the faint tremor in his hands at his sides.
Then her gaze drifted downward—slow, almost unwilling—until it landed on the unmistakable bulge still straining against the front of his dark jeans. Thick. Obvious. Not gone. Not even close.
She lifted her eyes again, a wry, tired half-smile tugging at her lips.
“Sorry,” she said softly, nodding once toward his crotch, “but the bulge between your thighs isn’t exactly helping sell the apology.”
Lucas followed her gaze—then let out a short, self-deprecating laugh that sounded more like a groan.
“Yeah,” he muttered, shifting his weight, trying and failing to adjust himself discreetly. “The drugs are… stubborn. But that’s not—” He shook his head. “That’s not why I’m saying sorry. It’s just biology being an asshole right now. Doesn’t change what I mean.”
Blair’s smile faded into something softer, sadder.
“I know,” she whispered. “I believe you.”
A beat of silence stretched between them—
She took a small step back toward the east wing.
“Goodnight, Lucas.”
He nodded once.
“Goodnight, Blair.”
She turned and walked away—robe swishing softly, footsteps fading down the corridor.
Lucas stayed where he was, watching her go until she disappeared around the corner.
Then he leaned back against the wall, head thumping gently against the plaster, eyes closing.
“Fuck,” he breathed to the empty hallway.