Chapter 103

Lucas

I wait. Not just patiently—agonizingly. The clock ticks louder with each passing minute. She stormed out hours ago, and though I don’t know exactly where she went, I can piece it together. Fury radiates off her in waves, and I get it. If anyone understands the rage Isabella’s actions have sparked, it’s me. She’s hurt Oliver and me in ways I’ll never voice aloud.

The door clicks open, but I don’t move. Why am I even here? Oliver’s safe at home with the nanny. Yet something roots me to this spot.

Sophia freezes when she sees me. Her eyes are swollen, lashes clumped with dried tears. “Lucas,” she breathes, voice raw. “You’re still here.”

Words clot in my throat. What do you say to someone whose pain mirrors your own?

“I waited,” I say as she sinks onto the couch. “Where’d you go?”

I know the first stop—the explosive confrontation with Isabella after realizing she’s Oliver’s mother. But that couldn’t have taken three hours.

“I drove.” Her whisper is frayed. “Just… drove. God, this is—” She presses her palms to her eyes. “It’s not just watching Oliver hurt. It’s seeing myself in him.”

I barely knew Sophia growing up. Two years ahead in school, I’d been too obsessed with Isabella to notice anyone else. Even now, I’ve kept walls up. It felt unfair to pry into her life when I’ve shared so little of mine. All I know is Ethan shattered her. Just like Isabella destroyed me.

“How?” I ask.

Her laugh is brittle. “Because I was him. Unwanted. Only worse—rejected by both my family and Ethan’s. I spent years begging for love that never came.”

My stomach twists. Unlike the guys who’d pursued her to get closer to Isabella, I’d never played those games. Using one sister to reach another? Disgusting.

“I’m sorry, Sophia.”

Pathetic. That’s all I can offer? I can’t even comfort my own son when he asks about Isabella.

She shakes her head. “Ancient history. But this isn’t about me. Tell me how Isabella became Oliver’s mother.”

I drag a hand down my face. Not because I won’t tell her—but because reliving it feels like tearing open a half-healed wound.

“You know I was obsessed with her in high school,” I start.

She nods. “Like I was with Ethan. Everyone knew.”

The irony isn’t lost on us. We got the people we wanted—only to wish we hadn’t.

“I tried everything to get her attention. But competing with Ethan? Impossible. I was the nerdy kid, Sophia. Zero appeal.”

She snorts. “Have you seen yourself in glasses? You’re every woman’s forbidden librarian fantasy.”

A surprised laugh escapes me. “Maybe now. Back then? Isabella looked at me like I was gum on her shoe. Can’t blame her—I wouldn’t have dated me either.”

College changed everything. I rebuilt myself—physically, socially. For the first time, girls noticed me. Parties. Hookups. No more pining for someone who’d never want me.

Then Grandpa had a stroke.

Sophia’s eyes widen. “You transferred to Ethan and Isabella’s university.”

“Yeah.” I exhale. “Saw them around, but kept my distance. Grandpa died soon after. When I returned to campus, the ‘IT couple’ had imploded. Ethan cheated—with you.”

Her flinch is barely there, but I catch it.

Isabella became a ghost after that. Hollow-eyed. Numb. I wanted to comfort her, but she’d never let me close. Fate intervened when my project partner turned out to be her roommate, Evelyn.

Sophia leans forward, riveted.

“I avoided Isabella. Then one night, she showed up at my dorm. Kissed me. Asked me to sleep with her.” My throat tightens. “I thought it meant something. Next morning? She looked at me like I’d assaulted her. Said she’d only used me to hurt Ethan.”

Sophia pales. “She told you about… me?”

“That’s how I found out.” The memory still stings. “Then she got pregnant. Wanted an abortion. I threatened legal action to stop her. Took her to Grandpa’s house, thinking—hoping—she’d grow to love the baby. Love me.”

I laugh bitterly. “She was vicious. We still slept together sometimes, but it didn’t erase the way she treated me. Cursed me. Cursed Oliver before he was born.”

Sophia’s grip on my hand tightens.

“When Oliver arrived, she refused to hold him. Left the hospital without a backward glance. A year later, she came back—for sex. Said other men ‘disgusted’ her.” Shame burns my cheeks. “I was exhausted. Lonely. I gave in.”

For years, it continued. She’d slip in, use me, vanish. No mention of Oliver. Until the day he caught her sneaking out. Seven years old, asking if the strange woman was his mom.

“I told him the truth. She screamed at me for it. Left without even looking at him.” My voice cracks. “That’s when I cut her off. Moved here for a fresh start. Never imagined you’d be next door—or that Isabella would follow.”

Sophia squeezes my hand. “You’re a good man, Lucas. You deserve real love.”

I pull her into a hug, breathing in the citrus of her shampoo. For the first time in years, the weight on my chest lightens.

I don’t tell her the rest—that I’m glad she’s here. That I wanted the truth about Isabella to come out. No more secrets. No more hiding what kind of woman she really is.