Love And Vengeance

Fix It

The morning light slipped through the curtains. Lucian sat on the edge of his bed, elbows resting on his knees, staring at the floor like it might give him an answer.

He hadn’t slept much.

Every time he closed his eyes, her voice came back... soft, shaky, breaking somewhere in the middle. “You sound like you don’t even want to talk to me.”

And then his own voice, cold and careless. Deal with it.

He ran a hand down his face, dragging out a low sigh. The words tasted worse now that the night was gone. Guilt didn’t fade with the morning; it just sat heavier.

Upstairs, the house was still quiet. Leah was still asleep.

The silence that usually comforted him now felt too loud.

He stood, walked into the bathroom, and turned on the tap. The water ran cold at first before warming up, and he splashed some on his face, watching the droplets trail down the sink. His reflection in the mirror looked tired, eyes shadowed, jaw tight, lips pressed into a thin line.

“Nice going,” he muttered to himself. His voice sounded rough.

He dressed slowly, white shirt, sleeves rolled up, black slacks, no tie. He didn’t have the energy for perfection this morning. His movements were quiet, practiced, the same motions he’d done a thousand times, only today they felt heavier.

By the time he stepped out of his room, the house was filled with soft morning light. The air smelled faintly of coffee beans and the lemon cleaner the maids usually used, except there were no maids here, not in this house. Just him and Leah.

He padded downstairs barefoot, the floor cool under his feet. The coffee machine blinked red on the counter, so he turned it on and leaned against the counter, arms crossed, waiting for the first sound of the brew.

The smell of fresh coffee filled the air. It used to calm him. Today, it didn’t.

Lucian picked up his phone from the table. The screen was blank for a second before he unlocked it. No new messages. No missed calls.

He exhaled through his nose, thumb brushing over Georgia’s name on the screen.

He had called her again last night, It had rung twice. Then voicemail.

He’d almost called again, but he stopped himself. Told himself she had probably fallen asleep. That he’d fix it in the morning.

Now morning was here, and it didn’t feel any easier.

He scrolled up the chat, his eyes catching on her last message from two days ago. He had never replied. He felt a faint sting in his chest as he stared at it.

He typed something. I’m sorry about last night.

Then deleted it.

Typed again. Can we talk?

Deleted it again.

Lucian rubbed the back of his neck and let out a dry laugh. “Pathetic,” he muttered, shaking his head.

He wasn’t good with words, not when it came to things that actually mattered. He’d rather show it, fix it, than say it. But with Georgia, words mattered. She listened to every small thing, every change in tone. And he knew she’d heard the distance in his voice last night.

The coffee machine beeped softly. He poured a cup and took a slow sip, wincing slightly when the bitterness hit his tongue.

He walked to the window, staring at the sunlight brushing across the garden. His phone buzzed softly in his hand. His heart jumped, but when he looked, it was just Damien.

He ignored the call.

He couldn’t talk to anyone yet. Not until he figured out what to do.

He set the mug down and leaned against the table, running his thumb over the rim of the cup. His mind went back to Georgia again, the way her voice broke when she said “You don’t even sound like you care.”

He cared. God, he did. But he had no idea how to show it. Not when everything inside him still hurt like an open wound he never treated.

He rubbed his temple and sighed again, longer this time. Maybe talking over the phone wasn’t going to fix anything. She’d probably ignore his calls now, or worse, pick up just to tell him off again.

No, this needed to be in person. He needed to see her face. Hear her voice without the distance.

He grabbed his jacket from the chair, hesitating when he looked at his phone one last time.

The screen reflected his own face, tired eyes, blank stare. He thought about her again, the way she used to smile when she saw him, how she’d tilt her head and say his name softly, like it meant something.

He hadn’t seen that smile in days.

Lucian exhaled slowly. “Face-to-face,” he said quietly, almost like he was convincing himself.

He picked up his car keys from the counter and slipped his phone into his pocket.

The morning light grew brighter now, filling the space with a warm glow that felt wrong against the heaviness inside him. He walked toward the front door, his footsteps steady but unhurried.

He stopped halfway, glancing up the stairs. Leah’s door was still closed. She was probably curled up under the blankets, fast asleep. He’d promised to take her to lunch later, but right now, he couldn’t sit still.

He needed to fix this first.

Lucian opened the front door. The cool air hit his face, cool and clean. Birds chirped somewhere nearby, a sound that felt too peaceful for the storm in his head.

He stood there for a moment, hand still on the door handle. His chest tightened, part nerves, part guilt.

He pulled out his phone again and stared at Georgia’s contact one more time. His thumb hovered over the screen, but he didn’t press call.

“Better in person,” he whispered under his breath, then slipped the phone back into his pocket.

He locked the door behind him and walked down the steps, the quiet crunch of gravel under his shoes the only sound.

As he reached his car, the morning sun caught the edge of the windshield, making him squint. He paused, staring at his reflection in the glass, the reflection of a man who looked like he had everything but couldn’t hold on to the one thing that mattered.

He let out a slow breath and opened the car door.

Sliding into the driver’s seat, Lucian placed his hands on the steering wheel and just sat there for a moment. No music, no noise. Just silence, the kind that pressed heavy on his chest.

Then, finally, he turned the key.

The engine came to life with a soft rumble, and Lucian backed out of the driveway. He didn’t know what he was going to say when he saw her, or how she would look at him, but one thing was certain, he couldn’t keep pretending it didn’t matter.