Chapter 62 Sixty Two.

Chapter 62 Sixty Two.
VALERIE

Lucas had never looked at me like that before, and it terrified me more than leaving ever could. He said he loved me, and I had never been more afraid.

Men like him chose with their whole soul—and I wasn’t sure mine could survive it.

I had lived my whole life in my sister’s shadow and didn’t know how to stand in a love that was finally mine. Since our marriage began, I hadn’t been running from him—just from what I felt.

I’d protected my heart for so long, I didn’t know how to give it now that he was asking.

I loved him, but I couldn’t forget how he had once made me feel small. The words rose to my lips when he said them, but fear sealed my mouth. I didn’t know if my heart was safe in his hands.

Everything felt sudden. I had never imagined Lucas could love me like this. It had always been a quiet fantasy I buried, and now, as beautiful as it was, I couldn’t silence the doubt gnawing at me.

Why now, with Vanessa back?

A part of me wanted to believe him, to finally rest in it. But the memory of him dragging Vanessa into his office haunted me—that look, that urgency.

I feared it was all a dream, that she could still walk in and take back what was hers.

Vanessa never accepted defeat. She didn’t step aside or share—she fought, manipulated, and took. She was my twin; I knew her better than anyone.

So… what had happened? What had he said to make her retreat?

One thing was certain: until I saw her for myself or got some proof to quiet the fire in my mind, I couldn’t fully accept him—and I wouldn’t be at rest.

Because loving him was one thing.

Trusting that he wouldn’t be taken from me… was another.

From where I stood at the top of the stairs, I could see him in the living room.

He was dressed in a black fitted suit that molded perfectly to his broad frame, the white shirt beneath it crisp and unforgiving.

The fabric stretched slightly across his shoulders as he paced, one hand resting against his chin while the other held his phone to his ear.

A Rolex gleamed against his wrist. His black shoes caught the light each time he turned. His hair was slicked back neatly.

And despite everything, despite the ache sitting in my chest, a small smile tugged at my lips.

Just how much hotter could this man get?

The thought slipped through my mind before I could stop it.

I smoothed my green dress down my thighs and exhaled slowly.

The gown shimmered subtly under the chandelier light, the fabric flowing softly around my legs. The neckline dipped lower than I was used to, revealing more of my cleavage than I normally would have allowed.

Why had I chosen this one?

Maybe because a part of me wanted him to look.

Maybe because a part of me wanted to feel wanted.

I stepped forward.

The sharp click of my heels against the marble stairs echoed through the room.

He stopped mid-step.

Slowly, his head lifted.

His eyes found me.

And everything else seemed to fade.

I couldn’t read his expression at first. His gaze moved over me slowly—deliberately—as if committing every inch to memory.

His mouth parted slightly.

My pulse stumbled.

“I’ll get back to you shortly,” he said into the phone, his voice lower now. Controlled. But distracted.

He ended the call and slid his phone into his pocket without breaking eye contact.

Then he began walking toward me.

Slow steps.

Measured.

His hands clasped in front of him.

The closer he got, the harder it became to breathe.

By the time I reached the bottom step, my heart was beating in places it shouldn’t.

He extended his hand.

A silent invitation.

I placed mine in his.

His fingers wrapped around it firmly, grounding me as I stepped fully onto the floor.

His gaze dragged over me again, slower this time.

A low curse slipped from his lips.

“Fuck.”

Heat rushed to my face.

“You look drop-dead gorgeous, Valerie.”

Not beautiful.

Not nice.

Drop-dead gorgeous.

The way he said my name made it sound like something fragile and rare.

I swallowed.

“Thank you, Lucas.”

My voice sounded steadier than I felt.

His thumb brushed lightly over my knuckles.

I pulled my hand back slightly and looked away, smoothing down my dress though it didn’t need fixing.

When I looked up again, he was staring at me.

He was watching me.

Not with amusement.

With something deeper.

A small smile curved his lips—soft, almost reverent.

Before I could ask what was so funny, he reached up and tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

The simple touch sent a shiver down my spine.

He stepped closer.

Too close.

My breath faltered.

“Lucas…” I whispered, my voice trembling despite myself.

“Shhh,” he murmured gently.

Then he pressed a kiss to my forehead.

I closed my eyes.

He stayed there for a moment. He held the back of my head, his lips resting on my forehead as if I might disappear.

And in that silence, my heart cracked quietly.

Because this was not the man who once looked at me with indifference.

This was not the man who married me out of obligation.

This was a man who was trying.

He pulled back slowly and looked down at me.

“I wouldn’t do anything you don’t consent to, Valerie,” he said quietly.

“When I told you I would work to earn your love… your forgiveness… I meant every word.”

My throat tightened.

He wasn’t demanding.

He wasn’t pressuring.

He was offering.

And somehow, that hurt more.

I blinked up at him, unsure how to respond to a man who was finally giving me everything I once begged for.

“I know,” I said softly.

But knowing didn’t erase the past.

Knowing didn’t quiet the fear that he could wake up one day and realize he chose the wrong twin.

He studied my face like he was searching for something more—three words I still couldn’t say.

I forced a small smile and nodded.

His jaw flexed, but he didn’t push.

Instead, he extended his hand toward me again.

I glanced down at it, then back up at him.

And gently placed my hand in his.

His fingers tightened gently.

“You don’t have to say it back,” he added quietly, searching my face. “Not until you’re ready. I’ll wait.”

That almost made me say it.

Almost.

But the words stayed locked behind my ribs.

He gave me a small wink, like he sensed the storm inside me and didn’t want to add to it.

Heat rushed to my cheeks. A soft chuckle left him as we walked out together.

And I realized something then.

He was all in.

Completely.

Irrevocably.

And I was still standing at the edge—terrified to jump.