Chapter 14 14
Blair swallowed hard, her voice trembling as she tried to speak.
“Olivia, I… I don’t want your money. I don’t want any trouble. I just—”
Her words died when Olivia’s phone began vibrating in her hand.
Olivia glanced at the screen, and instantly her expression softened — brightened — in a way Blair hadn’t seen since they were kids.
“Lucas,” she breathed, almost smiling as she answered.
“Hey, sweetheart.”
Blair’s heart clenched.
From where she stood, she could hear his voice — low, tired, intimate — through the speaker Olivia held close to her ear.
“Babe, I can’t sleep,” Lucas murmured. “Can you come over?”
Blair’s breath caught.
Her chest twisted painfully.
“Oh? Right now?” Olivia asked, eyes sparkling with triumph as she looked at Blair. “Of course, love. I’ll be there.”
She ended the call with a satisfied sigh.
“Well,” she said, flicking her hair over her shoulder, “you heard that. Lucas needs me. And unlike you, I actually matter to him.”
She stepped back through the doorway, pausing only to let her gaze drag over Blair one last time.
“Don’t make this harder than it needs to be. Just… disappear, Blair.”
With that, Olivia turned sharply and walked away, heels echoing down the hallway.
The moment she was gone, Blair closed the door with shaking hands.
A long silence filled the tiny living room.
Her knees finally gave in, and she sank to the floor, one hand pressed to her mouth to muffle the sob building in her chest.
He… he called her sweetheart.
He can’t sleep without her.
He doesn’t even know Maverick exists.
Her eyes burned as tears spilled down her cheeks.
“Does that mean…” she whispered to the empty room, “my poor baby will never know his father?”
She pressed a hand over her heart, choking on the ache.
“I always ruin Olivia’s life,” she whispered bitterly.
“I’m always the problem… always in the way.”
Her voice cracked.
“Maybe I really should… go away.”
She pulled her knees to her chest, trembling, swallowing every cry so Maverick wouldn’t hear.
A small shadow appeared at the hallway.
“M–Mommy?”
Blair quickly wiped her cheeks, turning her face away.
“Maverick… baby, you should be in bed.”
But he walked closer — tiny feet padding on the floor — holding his little comic book to his chest like a shield.
He stopped right in front of her, his lips wobbly as he saw the tears she couldn’t hide fast enough.
“Mommy… you’re crying.”
Blair forced a shaky smile. “No, sweetheart, Mommy’s just… tired.”
Maverick frowned deeply — that same little serious look he always made when he was trying to understand something big.
He reached out with his tiny hand and wiped her cheek with his thumb.
“It’s okay, Mommy,” he whispered, voice soft but certain. “I’ll fix it.”
Blair blinked, confused. “Fix… what, baby?”
Maverick stood up straighter, like a tiny superhero making a promise.
“I’ll tell the fairy mother,” he declared solemnly.
“The… fairy mother?” Blair repeated, choking on a watery laugh.
He nodded hard. “I’ll tell her to make Daddy stop being busy…”
He touched her wet cheek again.
“…and come clean Mommy’s tears.”
Her breath stopped.
“Maverick…”
He leaned in and wrapped his arms around her neck, hugging her tightly.
“Mommy, don’t cry,” he whispered into her shoulder. “If I ask her really nicely… Daddy will come. I promise.”
Blair held him, arms trembling around his small body, her heart cracking in ways she could no longer hide.
“Oh, baby,” she breathed, pressing her face into his hair, “if only it were that easy…”
He didn’t understand.
But he held her tighter anyway.
———
Lucas pressed both hands on the bathroom counter, breathing hard.
His chest rose and fell. He looked up at the mirror — or what remained of it.
The whole thing was cracked, a fist-shaped impact near the center. A few pieces had fallen to the floor, glittering.
His pills were scattered everywhere. Some had rolled under the sink.
His hands shook as he tried to pick them up.
“Damn it,” he muttered, dropping them again.
He squeezed his eyes shut for a second, trying to calm the pounding in his head. But the moment he shut them—
A picture flashed behind his eyes.
Not a full memory.
Just a small, quick image:
A woman’s back. Soft skin. A small blue butterfly tattoo right above her waist. His hand touching it. Her breath catching.
Lucas’s eyes flew open. His jaw tightened.
“She’s haunting me,” he whispered under his breath.
His phone buzzed on the counter.
One look at the caller ID.
Olivia.
Lucas exhaled — long, tired — and ignored it.
He bent to pick up the pills, but his hand shook, and the bottle slipped again.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Three pills hit the floor.
He slammed the counter with his palm.
Olivia stepped out, clutching her purse, her expression glowing.
Her heart galloped.
Maybe this was it.
Maybe he finally wanted to talk.
Maybe he was ready to announce their engagement.
Maybe—
She knocked eagerly.
The door swung open.
Her smile fell.
Lucas stood there — shirtless.
Breath uneven.
Eyes red from exhaustion.
“Lucas…” she whispered, stepping inside slowly, fear creeping into her chest.
“What happened? What—who did this? Are you okay? Lucas—talk to me.”
Lucas rubbed the back of his neck, forcing his shoulders to relax. “Liv… it’s nothing. I’m just… exhausted from work,” he said, voice low but uneven. His eyes avoided hers, darting to the scattered pills on the floor and the jagged mirror shards.
Olivia’s gaze sharpened. “Exhausted? Lucas… this isn’t just work. Look at this mess. You’re not okay.”
He ran a hand through his hair again, sighing. “I said I’m fine. Really. Just… leave it, please.”
Lucas stormed down the hallway, with frustration. He reached his bedroom and slammed the door shut, the sharp crack echoing through the suite.
He collapsed onto the edge of the bed, jaw tight, fists clenched.
Ever since that night, he hadn’t allowed any woman to get close enough to touch him the way she had.
Even a casual hand on his arm made his stomach twist. Alcohol had become poison in his veins — even the faintest sip brought back flashes of her face, the wet glint of tears, the way she had trembled.