My heart pounded so loudly in my chest that it overpowered everything else as I read and reread the lines, causing, "the letter to quiver in my hands." Sophie's calligraphy was distinctively delicate, exquisite, and hers. Her words were expertly constructed to pierce and hurt, and each line oozed with poison. But there was more than simply the brutality that made me gasp. That realization was what completely upended my existence.
With the weight of the letter bearing down on me like a physical force, I collapsed onto Lucas's leather recliner. The space around me became indistinct, the study's once-familiar surroundings taking on an unsettling appearance. My thoughts were racing, unable to fully absorb the significance of what I had just learned.
"Sophie had arranged for me."
There it was, written in her tasteful style, the confession in black and white. She'd played tricks on Lucas, set up the miscommunications, and given him falsehoods to break us apart. She would ruin me to get him back if that's what she wanted.
The realization of how readily Lucas had believed her sent a painful twist through my belly. He had never once questioned Sophie's intentions, always believing her words over mine. I felt a deep, hurting ache behind the strong, raw rage that welled up inside of me.
Why did he find it so simple to mistrust me?
I recalled all the times he had ignored me, his icy lack of concern stabbing me deep. We had grown apart as a result of every rejection and harsh comment, and I finally saw why. Since the beginning, Sophie had been working against me, causing Lucas mental damage and making sure I was kept at a distance.
What hurt the most, however, was that he had let her.
There was a part of me that wanted to approach him, toss the letter in his face, and demand an explanation. However, another part of me hesitated—the one that had been hurt and scarred by his repeated rejections. Would it matter to him? Would he see the light, or would he go on with his lifelong defense of Sophie?
I had to ponder and absorb the new information before making any conclusions. Lucas used to work in the study as a haven, but these days it seemed confining, like the walls were closing in on me. I needed to get outside, take a breath, and decompress.
With a firm grip on the letter, I quickly left the room, leaving a trail of sound behind me in the quiet home. Long shadows were created on the marble flooring by the early morning light that poured through the windows. For a short while, I was thankful for the solitude as the home remained silent and the crew had not yet woken up. It allowed me to ponder and strategize my next action.
However, I was halted in my tracks as I went past the grand staircase by a voice I recognized.
"Claire."
My heart sprang into my throat as I froze. I didn't anticipate seeing Lucas so quickly, especially as I was still in disbelief at Sophie's admission. I battled to control my emotions as I turned to face him slowly and tightened my grasp on the letter.
At the top of the steps, wearing his custom-fitted suit, Lucas stood with a look that was impossible to decipher. His beady blue eyes found mine, and for a split second, none of us said anything. There was an intense quiet between us that seemed like it would never end.
At last, he started down the stairs, taking slow, measured steps. He stopped as he got to the bottom, looking down at the letter I was holding. "What is that?"
With a parched throat, I took a hard swallow. "A missive. From Sophie.
There was a flash of anxiety on his face as his eyes narrowed slightly. "What does it say, too?"
For a split second, I thought of keeping the letter to myself, keeping the facts hidden, and utilizing it later as leverage. However, I swiftly brushed the idea aside. I had had enough of lies, secrets, and being in the dark. I had to be honest, even at the risk of everything, if I was going to survive this and if we were going to survive this.
My fingers trembled a little as I extended the letter toward him. Go through it. It concerns us.
He paused, looking into my eyes as if attempting to predict what would happen. Then he grabbed the letter from me and started reading without saying anything.
He raised his head to face me, and there was something about his expression that I had never noticed before it almost seemed like sorrow.
His voice became raspy as he said, "This... can't be true."
"It is," I said, maintaining a steady tone of voice despite the flurry of feelings engulfing me. Lucas, she's been playing you like a puppet. You trusted the falsehoods she was giving you. You chose to trust her instead of me.
The words lingered thick and damning in the air between us. Lucas remained silent for a little while, staring into my eyes as if he were looking for evidence of dishonesty. However, none was present. Now that the truth was out in the open, it was visible to us both.
His fingers clenched around the letter, giving it a small crumple. "I was unaware of this."
"Because you never wanted to see it," I cut in, angrily raising my voice. Lucas, you've never trusted me. You've treated me like I'm nothing from the day we got married. And now since you're blind, she's come dangerously close to destroying us.
Lucas retreated a step as if my words had hit him. I could see the struggle burning inside of him, the turbulence in his eyes. However, I didn't give a damn. I was in charge for once, and I wasn't going to let him off the hook too lightly.
"How are you going to proceed?" I questioned, putting my arms over my chest.
His face becoming glum, he peered down at the letter once again. "I'll handle Sophie."
That's insufficient, I yelled. "How about us? Lucas, what happens now? Are you even concerned? Or am I still only a piece of your strategy?
When his gaze returned to mine, I noticed a change in his demeanor for the first time. I have never seen such rawness and vulnerability before. "Yes, Claire, I do care. I... up until now, I had no idea how much.
I wanted to think that this was it, that at last, he would see me as more than just a handy wife. I wanted to believe him. However, the hurt from his previous rejections lingered, the cuts still visible.
I trembled and muttered, "Prove it." Lucas, show that you're concerned. since I am unable to continue doing this. I have to stop living this way.
He moved in closer, his hand extending to stroke my arm, but I withdrew because the pain was too great for even a little bit of solace. He nodded gently, as if he accepted my distance, and lowered his hand to his side.
Silently, he answered, "I will." Claire, I'll show you how. However, you must give me an opportunity.
I looked into his face for evidence of insincerity,but I couldn't see.
Could this be the case? That at last he was beginning to realize what he had been oblivious to the whole time. Although my head was skeptical due to years of his lack of interest, my heart was ready to accept it.
We were stopped by a loud tap on the door before I could say anything. Lucas's face furrowed in surprise as his eyes darted to the source.
"Who might that be?" He mumbled, not so much to me as to himself.
He still had the letter tightly clasped in his fingers as I watched him bluster to the door. The instant he gingerly opened it, the color went out of his face.
Sophie stood at the doorway, her triumphant and arrogant smile suggesting that she had just emerged victorious from a conflict we were unaware we were engaged in.
She murmured, darting her eyes at me with scarcely veiled disgust, "I think we need to talk."
I knew that whatever Lucas was about to do was going to be difficult, and my heart fell. Sophie had no intention of giving up without a fight.
I saw terror for the first time in Lucas's eyes as he stood still at the doorway, sandwiched between Sophie and me, fearing that he was about to lose everything
. Sophie entered, however, and I realized immediately that the fight was far from finished.