Strangers To Lovers

Chapter Thirty-Six

The rain pounded relentlessly against the window, turning the world outside into a blur of shadowy figures and streaks of water. I stood in the living room, my forehead pressed against the cold glass, trying to make sense of the chaos swirling inside me. The storm outside seemed to mirror the one within, every drop a reminder of the mess I had made of my life.

I couldn’t see anything clearly, but it didn’t matter. My vision was too fogged with the memory of Ella walking away from me. No, she wasn’t just walking away — she was running straight into Levi’s arms. The thought twisted the knife in my chest a little deeper, and I gripped the window frame, my knuckles white with the strain.

Ella. Beautiful, stubborn, resilient Ella. The one person I thought I could keep at arm's length, and now I had pushed her so far away that I wasn’t sure if she’d ever come back.

I turned, leaning my back against the wall, and stared up at the ceiling. My lungs felt like they were trying to expand against a weight too heavy to lift. I dragged in a breath, but it was shallow, painful, as if the air itself was suffocating me. I needed to move, to do something other than stand here and think about her, but my feet felt rooted to the floor.

When I finally managed to peel myself away from the window, I stumbled upstairs, gripping the railing like it was my lifeline. Each step felt like I was dragging myself out of quicksand, and by the time I reached the top, I was panting, my body trembling with exhaustion. I sank down onto the cold floor, the tiles chilling me to the bone, but I welcomed it. The physical pain was something real, something I could focus on.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out the image of Ella’s tear-streaked face, but it was no use. It was burned into my mind, and every time I blinked, I saw her all over again. Why had I let her go? Why had I believed, even for a second, that I could live without her?

A vibration in my pocket jolted me from my spiraling thoughts. I pulled out my phone and stared at the screen: MOTHER. My heart sank.

I swiped to answer, my voice raw. “What do you want?”

“Luke,” she said, her tone cool and controlled as ever. “I hope you’re not still sulking about that girl.”

I gritted my teeth. “What do you want?” I repeated, more forcefully this time.

“You know what I want. I want you to do what’s right for the family, for your future. And that starts with dinner tomorrow with Cecil and his daughter. Don’t embarrass me by making a scene.”

“Dinner?” I nearly laughed, the sound bitter in my throat. “That’s what you think matters right now? I’m losing everything, and you care about some dinner?”

“Luke,” she said, her voice sharp. “Stop being dramatic. You’re not losing anything that matters. That girl is not your future. This family is. The business is. You will be at that dinner tomorrow, do I make myself clear?”

“No,” I snapped, the word bursting out before I could stop it.

Silence.

“What did you just say?”

“I said no.” The anger was rising in me, thick and hot, threatening to overflow. “I’m not going. I’m done letting you control my life.”

Her voice turned icy. “You don’t know what you’re doing, Luke. If you walk away from this, there will be consequences.”

“Let them come,” I muttered, ending the call before she could respond. I threw the phone down, the impact echoing through the empty house.

The anger didn’t fade. It simmered beneath my skin, boiling over into every thought, every action. I could feel it, pulsing in my veins, and I knew I couldn’t stay here. Not in this empty, cold house where everything reminded me of the choices I’d made, the mistakes that had led me here.

I needed to get out.

Lang’s was dimly lit, the warm glow of the lights casting long shadows across the old wood floors. It was quieter than usual, the storm outside keeping most of the regulars away. I slid onto a stool at the bar, feeling the weight of the world pressing down on my shoulders.

Allison, the bartender, raised an eyebrow when she saw me. “Rough night?”

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.

“Whiskey?” she asked, already reaching for the bottle.

“Make it a double,” I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper.

She poured the drink and slid it across the bar, watching me carefully. “You look like you’ve been through hell.”

I let out a hollow laugh, lifting the glass to my lips. “Feels like it.”

The whiskey burned as it went down, but I welcomed it. I wanted to drown in it, to let it wash away the ache in my chest, but I knew it wouldn’t work. Nothing could fix what I had broken.

As I nursed the drink, I couldn’t stop thinking about Ella. How she had been there for me, even when I didn’t deserve it. How she had fought for us, even when I had given up. And now, she was gone, and it was all my fault.

The door to the bar swung open, and I glanced over my shoulder, my heart lurching when I saw her. Ella. Her hair was damp from the rain, her cheeks flushed, her eyes wide and searching. She spotted me immediately and crossed the room with purpose.

“Luke,” she said, her voice firm but soft. “What are you doing?”

I stared at her, my mind blank, unable to form words.

“Come on,” she urged, reaching for my arm. “You can’t stay here.”

I shook my head, pulling away from her. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not,” she snapped, her eyes flashing. “You’re a mess, Luke. You’re drowning, and you won’t let anyone help you.”

“I don’t need help,” I muttered, even though I knew it wasn’t true. “I’m fine.”

She stepped closer, her hand resting on my arm, her touch both comforting and painful. “You’re not fine. You haven’t been fine for a long time.”

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, I couldn’t breathe. She was right. I wasn’t fine. I was falling apart, and I didn’t know how to stop it.

“Please, Luke,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “Let me help you.”

I wanted to say yes. I wanted to pull her into my arms and tell her everything, to let her fix what I had broken. But I couldn’t. I didn’t deserve her. Not after everything I had done.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, turning away from her. “I can’t.”

Her hand dropped from my arm, and I felt the loss immediately. She stood there for a moment, watching me, before letting out a shaky breath.

“Goodbye, Luke,” she said, her voice barely audible.

I didn’t look up as she walked away, the sound of the door closing behind her echoing in my ears.

When I got home, the house felt even emptier than before. I stood in the doorway, staring at the dark living room, the silence pressing in on me from all sides. My head was pounding, and my body felt heavy with exhaustion, but I couldn’t bring myself to move.

I had lost her. I had lost everything.

I sank down onto the couch, burying my face in my hands. What was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I fight for her? Why couldn’t I be the man she needed me to be?

The memory of Levi flashed in my mind, and a fresh wave of guilt washed over me. He had fought for me. He had come back, tried to make things right. And I had done nothing but push him away.

Just like I had pushed away Ella.

I grabbed my phone, staring at her name in my contacts. I wanted to call her, to hear her voice one last time, but I knew I couldn’t. I had hurt her too much already. She deserved better than this, better than me.

I tossed the phone aside and slumped back against the cushions, my eyes stinging with unshed tears.

I had nothing left. No fight, no hope.

Just regret.