"Long time no see, baby."
I started at the sound of the voice, and as the words registered in my brain, I froze. My phone slipped from my hand as the hairs on the back of my neck stood on edge. It couldn't be...it was simply impossible. But there wa...
A long moment of silence passed—in which I avoided turning my head in Lucas's direction. I couldn't have sat there for more than a minute, but those short seconds were more than enough for me to think of every single reason why he might want to talk to me and to dread with every fiber of my being the moment he would break the uncomfortable silence. A part of me thought he might ask how I'd been living these years, and though I was almost frightened to tell him all of that, the thought of someone—but most especially him—caring to ask how I felt made me feel close to tears.
Suddenly, he got out of his chair, and I was acutely aware of his every movement until he stopped beside me and leaned back against the table. I could feel his eyes baring into my soul, and his nearness made me feel things I hadn't felt in years. Frightened more of myself than of him, I prepared to scoot my chair out in order to put a little space between the two of us, but he nonchalantly reached out and grabbed the back of it, stopping me before I could even start. Swallowing heavily, I lifted my eyes tentatively to look at him, and my heart caught in my throat at the way he was gazing down at me.
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"Did you mean what you said the other night?" He said quietly.
I frowned. "What are you talking about?"
"The first night you were here." He said, and as if the sentence possessed some magical quality, dismissed memories welled to the surface of my mind.
I hadn't remembered walking from the chair to the bed, because I hadn't walked at all, had I? At some point during the night, Lucas had come in and...my eyes widened as realization struck home. He'd carried me to the bed and tucked me in, and...and I'd held onto his hand in my desperation to prove that all of this was more than a dream. I couldn't remember what I'd said, but the sound of him gently soothing me and the feeling of his hands drying my tears were imprinted on my brain.
"I—" I started, wetting my lips as my desire to make an escape increased phenomenally.
"You don't remember what you said, do you?" He leaned back a little, releasing my chair as he toyed with one of the rings on his fingers.
The thought crossed my mind that this would be my chance to run, but besides the fact that his legs were much longer than mine, and if he really wanted to have this conversation with me, he could simply chase me down, I wanted to know what damning words had exited my lips in my exhausted stupor. Chewing on my lip, I remained seated despite the instincts in my brain that screamed at me for being such a fool. A smirk appeared on his lips, and I realized he must have been fully aware of my internal struggles.
"You asked if I would let you stay with me." A hint of something akin to regret danced in his eyes. "I didn't realize you'd been waiting for me all these years."
Didn't realize? "I thought you knew me the best of anyone. How could you not know that I would sit there and wait for you even if I knew how impractical that waiting was—even if everyone told me that you were dead?"
