The water is scalding when I step into the shower. I let it run over me.
For a second, I imagine Lucas in the bathroom with me. Would he still look at me the same if he saw me like this? Would he still smile? I remember the way he had smiled at me on Thursday when he ate that sushi. I want him to smile at me like that again.
I breathe deep. The thought settles into something that twists beneath my ribs, something close to longing. I can handle the blood. The demons in my head, among other fucked up shit in my life, but I’m not sure I can handle losing the one thing that softens it.
By the time I step out of the steam, I feel… clearer. Sharper.
I towel off, head to the walk-in closet, and dress slowly into my Black tailored suit. I’m knotting my tie when the phone buzzes across the dresser.
Mother.
Swiping answer, I put it on speaker.
“Alex, darling,” she sings, voice full of warmth and unnecessary drama. “You haven’t called me in days. I thought maybe you died somewhere. Have you died? Do I need to come identify the body?”
I huff out a breath—half a laugh.
“No, Mother.”
“That’s funny, because you didn’t call. Or visit. Which means I have to assume the worst.”
“I took you Cartier shopping four days ago.”
“Was that days ago? It felt like four months ago. And you didn’t even let me buy you anything, which is rude. You know I like it when you let me spoil you, too.”
I smirk and adjust the knot at my neck.
“Next time.”
“When will you be here? The party’s starting soon.”
“In about an hour or so,” I reply
There’s a pause. And then her voice changes—lighter and Curious.
“He’s coming too, right?”
I glance at the watch I’m choosing from the drawer, then smile quietly.
“Yes, Mother. I’m picking him up soon.”
“I can’t wait to meet him.” Her joy is so genuine that it tugs at something in my chest. “He must be something special. You never talk about anyone, Alex. Not like that night.”
My smile fades just slightly. I remember that night.
The alley. The blood on my knuckles.
And him.
Staring at me with wide eyes and still… not running.
I called her that same night. I always call her whenever I am confused about what I feel. She has always been my confidante in anything.
“He looked at me like he saw something no one else sees,” I had told her that night.
“And how did that make you feel?” she had asked.
“It makes me want to claim him,” I’d said.
