~ 48 ~

~ 48 ~
LILA

By the time I stepped foot into my apartment that morning, I was running on nothing but exhaustion and caffeine. The trip back from Louisiana had been long, and emotionally draining didn’t even begin to cover what the past week had done to me.

But nothing—and I mean nothing—could’ve prepared me for the sight that met me when I opened my door.

My home. My sanctuary. Torn apart.

Drawers yanked out and overturned. Couch cushions sliced open. Frames shattered on the floor. My bedroom had been ransacked, my closet turned inside out, my sheets ripped down and crumpled in a corner like they disgusted whoever had been here.

It wasn’t a robbery.

It was personal.

I froze on the threshold, heart ricocheting in my chest, the silence of the room deafening.

Then I did the only thing I could think of—I called Liv.

She answered on the second ring, and the moment I choked out what had happened, she switched into crisis mode. Her voice was calm, firm, grounding me while I stood barefoot in the middle of my wrecked living room, trying not to let the panic win.

The police arrived within fifteen minutes.

The rest was a blur.

Statements. Photos. Questions.

They scanned every inch of the apartment while I stood in the hallway with my arms crossed tight, trying to keep from falling apart. One of the officers asked if I had anyone in mind who might’ve done this.

My mind flickered. A face. A name.

Damien.

It wasn’t concrete. I had no proof. But something in me knew—felt—that he was capable of this kind of intrusion. The rage. The cruelty. The need to remind me that he could always get close if he wanted to.

So I gave them his full name. Last known address. His workplace. Every detail I could recall. Just in case.

By late afternoon, I was sitting on a stiff chair at the station, filling out the official report while a headache bloomed behind my eyes. I’d lost track of time. Of the hours. Of the light outside. My phone had died somewhere between the second and third officer’s questions.

I was tired. Not just in my bones, but in my soul.

And I had nowhere to go.

I couldn’t go back to my apartment. The thought of being in that space again made my skin crawl. But work? I couldn’t even bring myself to think about walking into the store right now, not when everything inside me felt fractured and exposed.

As night fell, the station thinned out. The sky had gone from pale blue to dusky violet. I gathered my things in silence, my limbs moving like they were underwater, numb and slow. I didn’t have a plan, just the name of a hotel a few blocks away that I could crash at for the night. Somewhere with walls. A lock. Some sense of safety.

I stepped outside, the cool breeze brushing against my face. The city lights were just starting to flicker on, casting a soft golden hue on the pavement.

That’s when I saw it.

A sleek black car pulling up in front of the station curb.

My heart skipped. Then thundered.

I knew that car.

I knew the man who stepped out even more.

Lucas.

His eyes found mine instantly.

And in that moment—standing outside the police station with my life in pieces—I didn’t know whether I wanted to run to him or away from him.

But either way…

He was here.

\----

I didn’t move.

I just stood there on the steps of the police station, cold creeping into my limbs, exhaustion nesting behind my eyes, the weight of the day sitting heavily on my shoulders.

Then I sighed.

It wasn’t a soft one—it was the kind that escapes you when you’ve been holding your breath for too long, when the cracks finally show. Loud enough to cut through the street noise. Loud enough for him to hear.

And just like that, Lucas began crossing the walkway to me.

He didn’t say anything. Not at first.

He didn’t need to.

His eyes locked on mine like they’d been searching all day. There was no anger in them, no judgement—just a quiet storm of worry and something warmer underneath it. He reached me, stopped just close enough to read the tremble in my breath, and then—

He pulled me into a hug.

I tried to push him away.

I did. I really did.

Not because I didn’t want it—but because I wanted it too much. Because the second his arms wrapped around me, I felt like I could finally crumble. And I didn’t want to fall apart. Not here. Not now.

But Lucas… didn’t let go.

He held on.

He held me the way someone does when they’re anchoring you back to yourself. When the ground has caved in beneath you and they’re the only thing keeping you from falling further.

And slowly… slowly… I stopped fighting.

My hands, once curled into fists against his chest, slid weakly around his waist. My cheek pressed against the warm fabric of his coat. And I let him pull me closer.

I closed my eyes.

I didn’t know what tomorrow would bring. I didn’t even know what tonight would hold. But in this one fragile moment, with the world spinning too fast and my heart still bruised from too many hits—

I was safe.

Right here, in his arms—I felt safe.

I didn’t say a word. Neither did he.

But Lucas was always good at reading the words I didn’t say.

“Come home with me,” he murmured after a while, his voice deep, low, almost unsure.

I stiffened, lifting my head just enough to meet his eyes. “Lucas…”

“You don’t have to decide anything. Just for tonight,” he said, gently. “You shouldn’t be alone.”

“I’m fine. I’ll book a hotel—”

“No, you won’t.”

The firmness in his tone caught me off guard. “You shouldn’t be alone in a hotel either.”

I frowned, about to argue again, but he raised a hand, cutting me off softly.

“I went to your place,” he admitted. “Earlier today. You weren’t answering your phone. Ethan said something was off. So I drove over. The front entrance was still taped off. The officers told me what happened and where you’d be.”

My chest tightened. “They… told you?”

He nodded. “Not details. Just enough. Enough to know you had nowhere to go.” He paused, his eyes searching mine. “Let me take care of you, Lila.”

The words slipped past my defenses like silk through fingers.

Let me take care of you.

Three years ago, I would’ve begged to hear them.

And now… when I didn’t even know what I needed… they felt like a lifeline.

I didn’t speak. I just gave the smallest nod.

Lucas exhaled, the tension in his shoulders softening ever so slightly. Then he bent to pick up the only suitcase I had—still the same one I had packed in Louisiana, now rolling behind him as he led me silently to the car.

I slid into the passenger seat, the door clicking shut beside me like a final decision.

I didn’t know what came next.

I didn’t know what tomorrow would hold. Whether this would fix anything, or just make things messier.

But for now… just for now…

I would let myself take one step at a time.

One moment of peace.

One stolen breath.

And as the engine purred to life and the city lights blurred past the windows, I didn’t look back.

Because something told me—

The past was already catching up.