Chapter 19 Chapter 19
Lucien’s POV
When I pressed my foot against the accelerator, I was dead set on killing Adrian.
My vision had gone red.
My hands were tightly holding the steering wheel.
One wrong move and he would have been gone.
But then I saw her.
Cynthia.
And that was when I lost the courage to finish what I had started.
In the position they were in, I couldn't kill him without physically hurting her.
So at the very last moment, I swerved.
The car shot past them violently. Without looking back, I just drove away.
That night, I didn’t sleep. The image of her clinging to him burned behind my closed eyes like a curse.
The next day, I got to know Cynthia has resigned.
Resigned!
I can't believe it.
I went completely crazy. After her husband lost his job…after everything…I hadn’t expected this.
I waited for a few days, thinking she would come back but she didn't.
I haven't seen her for a full week now and every minute without her feels like a punishment.
Leaning back against the leather seat, I punched my forehead hard, as it was throbbing badly.
Even with my eyes closed, I could see only her.
Damn her!
“Stop!” I suddenly barked.
The driver stiffened. “Sir?”
“Stop the car!”
And he stopped.
I froze for a second when I saw the same café in front of me, which has many memories. I know I should be asking the driver to take me away from it but something was pulling me towards it.
So I listened to my gut feeling and stepped out of the car.
It's been ages since I came here. Maybe it's coffee that could help me think clearly again.
With this thought I walked inside and went straight to the counter.
It is still the same.
A sigh of frustration passed my lips when I found a man standing in the line after leaving a space of a person. Before I could ask him to step ahead, his phone rang and he walked out of the line.
I came to his spot and was about to take another step ahead when a soft voice reached my ears.
“…twinkle, twinkle, little star…”
I frowned and looked down to find a small girl standing in the queue. She was so small that she could barely reach the counter.
While humming the poem, she was bouncing lightly on her toes; her two little ponytails moved along with her rhyme.
She looked so happy and lost in her little world.
Kids usually annoyed me because they were nothing more than noise, chaos and sticky hands but strangely she attached me towards herself.
“How I wonder what you aaare…”
She made something in the air with her tiny hands. My eyes followed her movement without permission and a corner of my mouth twitched before I could stop it.
At first, I thought she was with the woman standing ahead of her. But when the woman walked away with her order, I was shocked to realize the little girl was alone.
What kind of parents leave their child alone to place an order?
“Sir, your order?” The barista’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts.
With my eyes, I gestured toward the counter.
She peeped down and an instant smile of adoration formed on her lips.
The little girl was stretched on her tiptoes, trying her best to reach the counter, but she couldn’t.
“May I help you, miss?”
I don’t know why I offered it when I had nothing to do with her.
And the moment she turned around to look at me, my world stopped.
I froze in my place when I saw those green eyes staring straight at me.
I was sure I had never seen her before, yet her face looked… familiar.
So damn familiar.
For the first time in years, my heart skipped a beat.
She stared at me for a long moment, studying me as if deciding whether I was good enough to pass some invisible test before finally nodding her head.
Wrong choice.
I am very bad… worse than the devils you hear about in bedtime stories.
Leaning down, I lifted her and settled her on one arm, wrapping the other securely around her stomach so she wouldn’t fall.
She smelt of baby shampoo, soap, and cream.
My heart… God, my heart.
Holding her this close, my heart started beating too fast, the way it hadn’t in years.
Maybe this is because I have never held a child.
“What would you like, little one?” the barista asked.
She straightened her back like a grown-up.
“One cappuccino and one strawberry shake,” she announced proudly.
I blinked, stunned by how clear her pronunciation was at such a young age.
When the barista asked for the money, I said,
“Give me the honour of paying for you, little lady.”
She turned her head toward me again.
And once again, my heart skipped.
She studied me for a full minute before saying, “No, thank you.”
Oh.
Okay.
I’m impressed.
She dug into her pocket with extreme seriousness and pulled out crumpled notes before handing them over.
“I’m sorry, little one,” the barista said gently, “but with this money, you can buy only one drink.”
The little girl’s face instantly fell.
And I—I felt bad.
Felt bad.
Something I hadn’t felt in ages.
I immediately mouthed to the barista to give her whatever she wanted. I would pay the rest.
“Oh! I’m sorry,” the barista said. “We actually have an offer today. Strawberry shake is free with a cappuccino.”
“Really?”
The little girl bounced in my arms, her eyes lighting up.
“Yes, ma’am.”
She clapped her hands, and I found myself smiling like an idiot, watching her sit on my arm as if it were her personal chair.
The headache I had a few minutes ago was already gone.
“One cappuccino for me too,” I told the barista.
She nodded and handed it to me.
“Where is his free strawberry shake?” the little girl asked instantly.
The barista and I exchanged a look.
“Of course,” I said seriously. “Where is my free drink?”
She laughed and handed me one strawberry shake as well.
I paid the bill, placed the little girl back on her feet, and picked up the drinks.
We stepped aside to make space for the other customers.
“Thank you, Mr. Stranger.”
She looked up at me and blinked innocently.
“I don’t need your thanks.”
Her tiny eyebrows squinted as I sat down in front of her.
“I want to be your friend.”
She rubbed her chin thoughtfully, taking far longer than necessary.
Every second, I prayed she would say yes.
I mentally slapped myself for behaving like this.
“Okay.”
She tilted her head and gave me a full, toothy smile that hit me harder than any slap ever could.
“Now that we’re friends,” I said softly, “let me help you take these drinks to your mother.”
“Umm… I’m okay,” she chirped proudly. “I’m a big girl.”
“Indeed, you are.”
I chuckled.
And then suddenly her eyes shifted past me. Something tugged painfully in my chest as she looked away from me.
Then she shouted—
“Mumma!”
My entire body froze as I turned around.
Cynthia?