The Perfect Gentleman ✔

45: Second fiddle

Lucas saw Sara make her way from the stage in quick succession towards the house and he ran to catch up to her. He intercepted her just as she reached the double doors leading into the massive hallway. Luckily, no one was present except for a few servants as everyone else was having a food festival outside since it was time for item 7. He gripped her arm gently but firmly, pausing her mid strides.

"Hey, where are you going? I told you I needed to speak with you." He asked, watching her brows furrow in confusion.

"I need to use the ladies. Can it wait?" She asked, darting her eyes everywhere but at him. She didn't have it in her to deal with him right now.

He eyed her countenance before replying. "Not really, if you really have to go, please do."

She turned her gaze to his face, studying him. Then she exhaled audibly. Best to get what she was feeling out of her chest before it chocked her to death."You know what? Let's talk now. I just wanted to check my makeup."

"Are you sure? I can wait here for you." He was doubtful.

She nodded her head dismissively. "It's fine. We can talk now. Let's do it here."

He eyed the hallway and deciding he knew just the place, pulled her along towards the hallway on the right until they were completely alone in the living room. This place offered the privacy he needed for what he had in mind. He briefly toyed with the idea of forgoing the proposal but shook the thought away. He had to do it tonight, and right now was the perfect moment.

"Here goes nothing," he began but exhaled deeply twice, wondering why he was this nervous about it. Funnily enough, he was not this anxious the first time around, he noted.

"Sara, I know I may be getting ahead of myself here, but this past two months has been different and memorable for me than the last five years put together. Except of course, for when I was with Freddie. Those moments were priceless." He grinned, looking flustered.

Taking another breath, he continued. "I also know you may not be ready, or may be skeptical about all these but I want us to try again, like really make it work. It won't be like last time as it'll be different this time, I promise."

That word had her self-control snapping. "Promise?" She chuckled mirthlessly while shaking her head slowly from side to side. "You talk about promise as though you have any plans of keeping them. Do you even know what a promise is, Lucas?"

He frowned, instinctively stepping back from her rage. She did not look very happy right now. "What are you talking about, Sara?"

"You don't know what I'm talking about?" She mocked, her lips lifted up in derision. "Alright then, let me spell it out for you since you have no idea. How can you possibly ask me to try again with you if you're still with that woman? What will our relationship be like? Me as your wife and she as your mistress? Because I don't think we really defined it the first time around." Foolish tears escaped her eyelids and she dashed them away angrily.

"That will not happen," he began tentatively.

"What is the guarantee that it won't?"

He looked at her before reaching his fingers into his trouser pocket for the box and then frowned immediately. It was not there! Where did it go? His mind drifted to earlier that evening and he paused, very confounded.

She continued taking his lack of response as cue. "You don't have any guarantees because there is none! You obviously can't seem to keep your hands off of her. Why her, Lucas? Why can't it be anyone else? Why do I have to play second fiddle to that woman? Why?!" She cried brokenly, tears streaming down her cheeks rapidly.