Chapter 45 Forty Five

Chapter 45 Forty Five
VALERIE

As soon as the car pulled up into the parking lot, I stepped out, shut the door behind me, and walked toward the house on tired legs.

What a day.

The silence felt heavy as we rode the elevator to the penthouse, and stepped inside. The lights flickered on the moment I crossed into the living room, too bright against my exhaustion.

I crouched to slip off my shoes, my body aching in places I didn’t bother to name.

I placed my foot on the first step of the stairs when I heard my name.

“Valerie.”

I turned slowly and found Lucas standing behind me.

For a brief moment, I had forgotten that we had come together and he was with me. Lately, I always felt drained—too tired to think, too tired to brace myself.

I waited, arms loose at my sides, watching him struggle to find the right words, or maybe the courage to say them.

You better think twice before speaking.

He exhaled and finally spoke. “Thank you, Valerie. For today. I don’t know what would have happened… or how tonight would’ve turned out without you. But—thanks. I genuinely appreciate it.”

I held his gaze for a second longer than necessary. Then I nodded once.

Without another word, I turned away, walked up the stairs, and disappeared into my room.



I opened my eyes, then shut them almost immediately as the morning light slipped through the curtains—too bright and too unforgiving.

A yawn escaped me as I rolled onto my other side and reached for the jug on my bedside table, already craving water.

My fingers met nothing.

I frowned, lifted it, then let out a deep sigh when I realized it was empty. I closed my eyes briefly, as if that might summon the energy I didn’t have, then pushed the duvet off my body and sat up.

My limbs felt heavy as I stood and stepped out of the room, padding down the hallway, down the stairs and toward the kitchen. I was halfway inside when I froze.

Lucas stood there.

He was by the counter, stirring his coffee slowly, his head lowered, gaze fixed on the mug in his hand.

For a split second, I considered turning around and retreating quietly.

I already had.

His voice cut through the silence before I could escape.

“You do realize you don’t have to do that, right?”

I shut my eyes in embarrassment as heat rushed to my face. I didn’t understand how he had noticed me when his eyes were still down, his attention seemingly fixed on his coffee, the spoon moving in steady circles.

I finally turned around and walked fully into the kitchen. “Good morning,” I said quietly.

“Good morning,” Lucas replied, his voice low.

I grabbed a glass, moved past him to the dispenser, pressed the button, and watched as water filled the glass.

I could feel his gaze on my side profile, steady and unflinching but I didn’t look up. I kept my focus on the rising water level, on anything that wasn’t him.

When the glass was full, I turned to leave.

“Stay,” he said.

I paused, then turned back. “Huh?”

He sighed, the sound heavy. “Please… stay with me.”

The word stunned me. Please. From him. To me.

I hesitated only a moment before walking back and sitting on the stool opposite him.

I faced the counter, my shoulders tight, my exhaustion settling deeper into my bones.

Minutes passed in silence. It wasn’t awkward—just fragile. He sipped his coffee slowly from his mug. I drank from my glass, the cool water grounding me.

It felt like we were both holding onto the quiet, afraid a single word might shatter it.

Then Lucas spoke, breaking the stillness.

“How did you do that?”

I lifted my eyes to him slowly. He was watching me now, his coffee momentarily forgotten.

“How did you know what to do last night?” Lucas asked quietly.

I sighed, the sound heavy with exhaustion. “I put my research to use. That’s all.”

“Research?” he repeated, his brows knitting slightly.

“Yes.”

One of his brows arched, as though he sensed there was more I wasn’t saying. I lowered my eyes to my cup, then exhaled.

“I always wanted to be a doctor,” I said.

He tilted his head, surprise clearly etched across his face.

“But I couldn’t,” I continued. “My parents didn’t allow it. They said it was too tedious. Too demanding. Even though it was what I had passion for.”

My fingers tightened around the bottle.

“They made me choose acting instead.”

Lucas said nothing. He simply listened, his attention fixed on me in a way that felt unfamiliar.

“That,” I added, “was something I learned on my own. I researched it myself.”

His mouth formed a quiet “oh.”

“So, yeah,” I said softly. “That was it. I’m just glad it worked.”

For a moment, he stared into space, as if the information was too much to process all at once.

Then he reached for his mug again and took a slow sip, eyes distant.

“Wow,” he finally said. “That’s… unexpected, to say the least.”

I shrugged faintly.

He continued. “If you truly still wanted to pursue it, you’d do exceedingly well. Trust me.”

A small, brief smile touched his lips before fading.

“So why did you decide to help?” he asked. “You could’ve chosen not to. And if I’m being honest… I’ve been getting on your nerves these past few days.”

A soft chuckle slipped out of me. “Exactly. I could have chosen not to help, Lucas. But I judge people differently—individually. Not collectively.”

Silence followed.

He returned fully to his coffee, stirring it slowly, while I lowered my eyes to my cup. We sat there together, quiet, sharing a stillness that felt careful and rare.

When our gazes finally met again, it held longer than before, until Lucas looked away.

I didn’t.

And in that moment, I realized it was the first real, responsible conversation Lucas and I had ever had.