Chapter 31 The Aftermath
Lara's pov
It’s been three days since the verdict. Three days since Claire and Lucas were sentenced. Three days since justice was finally served.
And I felt nothing.
No relief, no satisfaction and no peace.
I was just empty.
The clock read 3:22am. I gave up trying to sleep an hour ago. I've been trying to find sleep but all to no avail.
Now I sat on the floor of Damien's office, surrounded by old photo albums.
My father's albums.
Pictures of him holding me as a baby. Teaching me to ride a bike. My first day of school. College graduation. My wedding day to Lucas.
That last one made me want to throw up.
Dad looked so happy in that photo, he looked so proud.
He had no idea he was handing me over to the man who would help kill him.
"Lara?"
I looked up. Damien stood in the doorway, his hair was so messy from sleep,he was wearing just pajama pants.
"What are you doing down here?"
"Honestly , I couldn't sleep."
He walked over. Sat down beside me on the floor.
"How long have you been up?"
"I don't know.I can't even say, it's been for awhile."
He picked up one of the photos. My father and I at my eighth birthday party. We were both laughing, covered in cake frosting.
"He loved you so much," Damien said quietly.
"I know."
"You know that, right? How much he loved you?"
"I know."
But my voice cracked on the words.
Damien set the photo down and pulled me against his chest.
"It's okay to be sad. Even after everything. It's okay."
"They're in prison," I whispered. "Claire's dead. Lucas is locked up for the rest of his life. I won. So why do I feel like this?"
"Like what?"
"Like I'm drowning."
Damien's arms tightened around me.
"Because winning doesn't bring him back."
And that's when I broke.
Completely.
I sobbed into Damien's chest. I was so ugly and messy crying. The kind that makes your whole body shake.
All the tears I didn't cry during the trial. All the grief I pushed down to stay strong in that courtroom.
It all came flooding out.
"He's gone," I choked out. "He's really gone and nothing I do will bring him back."
"I know."
"I thought the trial would help. I thought seeing them punished would make it better."
"I know."
"But it doesn't. Nothing helps. He's still dead."
Damien didn't tell me it would be okay. He didn't say time heals all wounds or any of that garbage.
He just held me.
Let me cry until I had nothing left.
When I finally stopped, my head was pounding. My eyes are swollen. My throat is raw.
"I'm sorry," I mumbled.
"For what?"
"For falling apart."
"You're not falling apart. You're grieving."
"I should be stronger than this."
"No." Damien pulled back to look at me. "You've been strong for six months. Through the investigation. The trial. All of it. You don't have to be strong right now."
"I don't know how to do this."
"Do what?"
"Live with it. Live knowing my father died because of my husband. Because I married the wrong man."
"This isn't your fault."
"Isn't it?" I pulled away from him. "If I hadn't married Lucas, Dad would still be alive."
"You didn't know. How could you have known?"
"I should have seen it. Should have realized Lucas never loved me."
"Lara—"
"He told me himself in court. He never loved me. Not once in five years of marriage. And I was too stupid to see it."
"You weren't stupid. You were trusting. That's not the same thing."
I laughed bitterly. "Trusting. Right."
"Lara, look at me."
I didn't want to. But he gently turned my face toward his.
"Lucas is a liar. A manipulator. He fooled everyone. Your father. Me. The entire business community. This is not on you."
"It feels like it's on me."
"I know it does. But it's not."
I wanted to believe him.
God, I wanted to believe him.
But the guilt was eating me alive.
My father died because I brought Lucas into our family. Because I was so desperate to make my marriage work that I ignored every red flag.
How was I supposed to live with that?
"Come on," Damien said, standing up. He held out his hand.
"Where?"
"Bed. You need sleep."
"I told you, I can't sleep."
"Then you need to lie down. Close your eyes. Rest."
I let him pull me to my feet.
We left the photos scattered on the office floor. I'd clean them up tomorrow.
Or maybe never.
Maybe I'd just leave them there forever. A shrine to the man I couldn't save.
Upstairs, Damien tucked me into bed like I was a child.
"I'm not going anywhere," he said, climbing in beside me.
"Promise?"
"Promise."
I curled into him. Let his warmth surround me.
"Damien?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you."
"For what?"
"For not leaving. For staying even when I'm like this."
He kissed the top of my head.
"You could never make me leave."
I closed my eyes.
Sleep didn't come.
But at least I wasn't alone.
\---
The next morning, I woke up to Ethan jumping on the bed.
"Mommy! Mommy! Wake up!"
I groaned. Pulled a pillow over my head.
"Five more minutes."
"No! Dami made pancakes and he said, " I can't eat until you come downstairs!"
Damien appeared in the doorway, holding a spatula.
"I said no such thing. I said you should wake your mother gently."
"I am being gentle!"
Ethan bounced harder.
I couldn't help it. I laughed.
For the first time in days, I actually laughed.
Ethan grinned down at me. "See? Mommy's happy now!"
"Yeah, baby. I'm happy."
It was a lie. But it was a lie I needed to tell.
For him.
I dragged myself out of bed. Let Ethan pull me downstairs to the kitchen.
Damien had made a full breakfast. Pancakes, eggs, bacon, fruit.
"You didn't have to do all this," I said.
"I wanted to."
We sat down to eat. Ethan chattered about his day at school yesterday, about his friend Tyler who could do a backflip, about the art project they were working on.
Normal things.
Kid things.
It was nice.
For a few minutes, I could pretend everything was fine.
But then my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I almost didn't answer. But something made me pick up.
"Hello?"
"You have a collect call from an inmate at Millbrook Correctional Facility. Will you accept the charges?"
My blood went cold.
"What?"
"Will you accept—"
I hung up.
Damien looked at me. "Who was it?"
"Lucas."
His jaw tightened. "What did he want?"
"I don't know. I didn't accept the call."
But my hands were shaking.
Why was Lucas calling me?
What could he possibly have to say?
The phone rang again.
Same number.
I rejected the call.
It rang a third time.
"Turn it off," Damien said quietly.
"What if—"
"Turn it off. You don't owe him anything. Not even your time."
He was right.
I powered down my phone.
But the damage was done.
My appetite was gone. The brief moment of peace shattered.
Lucas was in prison. Behind bars. He couldn't hurt me anymore.
So why did just hearing his name make my chest tight?
"Mommy?" Ethan looked worried. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, sweetheart."
Another lie.
I was getting good at those.
After breakfast, I went back upstairs. Took a long shower.
Let the hot water beat down on me until my skin turned red.
I thought about my father.
About Lucas.
About Claire dying in prison without me ever getting to ask her why.
Why did she hate me so much? Why did she want my father dead? Why wasn't the money enough? Why did she have to destroy everything?
I'd never get those answers now.
She was gone.
And I was left here. Picking up the pieces. Trying to figure out how to keep living.
When I got out of the shower, Damien was waiting in the bedroom.
"Talk to me," he said.
"About what?"
"Whatever you're thinking. Whatever's going on in your head."
I sat down on the bed. Wrapped in a towel, hair dripping.
"I don't know how to do this."
"Do what?"
"Move on. Everyone keeps saying I should move on. The trial's over. Justice was served. Time to heal and move forward."
"And?"
"And I don't know how. I don't know how to just wake up one day and be okay with the fact that my father is dead. That the people I trusted most in the world betrayed me. That my entire marriage was a lie."
Damien sat beside me. Took my hand.
"You don't have to be okay with it."
"Then what am I supposed to do?"
"Survive it. One day at a time. Some days you'll be fine. Some days you'll break down at 3 AM looking at old photos. Both are okay."
"I'm tired of just surviving."
"I know."
"I want to feel normal again. Happy. Like myself."
"You will. Eventually."
"How do you know?"
He squeezed my hand.
"Because you're the strongest person I've ever met. You've survived things that would have destroyed most people. And you're still here. Still fighting. Still showing up for your son every single day."
"I don't feel strong."
"You don't have to feel it to be it."
I leaned my head on his shoulder.
"I'm so tired."
"Then rest."
"I can't. There's too much to do. The company—"
"Can wait. Your health is more important."
"But—"
"No buts. You're taking the day off. We're staying home. Watching movies. Ordering takeout. Being lazy."
"I can't just—"
"Yes, you can. And you will."
I wanted to argue.
But I was so tired.
So we stayed home.
Ethan picked the movies. Some animated thing about talking animals.
We ordered Thai food for lunch. Pizza for dinner.
Ethan fell asleep on the couch between us around 8 PM.
Damien carried him up to bed.
When he came back down, I was still sitting there. Staring at nothing.
"You okay?"
"Lucas called again. While you were upstairs."
Damien's expression darkened. "Did you answer?"
"No. But he left a voicemail."
"Did you listen to it?"
I shook my head.
"Do you want to?"
"I don't know."
Part of me wanted to delete it. Block his number. Pretend he didn't exist.
But another part of me needed to know.
What could he possibly have to say to me now?
"Want me to listen to it first?" Damien offered.
"No. I'll do it."
I pulled up my voicemail. Put it on speaker.
Lucas's voice filled the room.
"Lara. I know you don't want to talk to me. I understand. But please. I need to tell you something. About Ethan. About that night before I divorced you. I need you to know the truth. Please call me back. Please."
The message ended.
Silence.
I looked at Damien.
"What truth?" I whispered.
"I don't know."
"What could he possibly have to say about Ethan?"
Damien's jaw was tight. "Nothing good."
My heart was racing.
What did Lucas know?
What truth was he talking about?
"I should call him back," I said.
"No."
"But what if—"
"It's a game, Lara. He wants to get in your head. Don't let him."
"What if it's important?"
"Then he can tell his lawyer and the lawyer can contact yours."
He was right.
I knew he was right.
But the message played on repeat in my head all night.
What truth?
What did Lucas know about Ethan?
And why did he sound so desperate to tell me?