No Ordinary Love (A Modern Vintage Romance #5)

3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Amara

I didn't want to be here.

The Den, with its dim lighting and cozy atmosphere, had always been a place that felt like ours— Lucas's and mine. Now, it was going to be where we would officially end, even if the emotional break had happened two days ago.

When Lucas suggested we meet on Monday evening after work, a part of me wanted to tell him to go fuck himself. It had taken him two days to call me after I told him I was moving out. I knew he was going to be busy with Rena's birthday, but the fact that I was so low on his priority list struck me anew. It hurt more than it had before because now I knew that he didn't love me.

So, even though I knew it'd hurt a lot to see Lucas again, I also knew that I needed to be practical. I needed to be civil. I ignored that little part of me that was also thrilled to see the object of my love and desire.

Lucas and I had shared a lot, and I wasn't going to let it unravel into ugliness. He'd asked to meet, and I knew we had to talk—not about us—there wasn't an us anymore—but about the practicalities—the townhouse, my investment, the life we'd planned that now felt like a distant, painful dream.

I spotted him immediately, sitting in the back corner where we always sat, a drink already in hand. He looked the same—perfectly put-together, every bit the powerful, confident man I'd fallen for. Only now, all I could see was the man who'd broken my heart with a single conversation.

" I love Kath. I'll always love her."

I took a deep breath and walked over, keeping my expression as neutral as possible. He glanced up as I approached.

"Amara." He stood as I reached the table. He was such a Southern Gentleman , I thought scornfully.

"Lucas." I slid into the seat across from him.

I was relieved he didn't pretend everything was fine between us or try to hug me or give me a kiss like he used to.

But then I suspected that he was relieved that I'd ended it. Was he with Kath this past weekend? Were they already together? Did he have sex with her?

I cleared my throat as a way to dissipate the thoughts that would lead me to break down and cry. Everything inside me hurt. Today, at work, I felt like I had the flu, a sickness that engulfed me. I'd spent the weekend in Basil's guestroom crying as he held me when I allowed it. Most of the time, I was alone, watching Lucas and my time together in my mind to see if there were hints of how he felt. I was sad to admit to myself that there were, and I ignored them, willfully looking away because I didn't like what I was seeing.

"How are you?" he asked softly.

I shrugged. Thankfully, the server came then to take our orders. I went for their Pinot Noir by the glass, which I liked, and Lucas shook his head, looking at his drink, a beer.

We sat for a moment in awkward silence, and I could feel all that was unsaid pressing down on me. The last time we'd been here, we were laughing, planning a future. Now, it was like we were strangers.

The server came back with my drink, and the impossible gulf between us got more profound as we took sips.

Unable to stand it any longer, I got to the point. "I think it's best if we handle this quickly. I've been looking at options for selling the townhouse, but if you want to keep it, you can buy me out. We can get an appraiser—"

"Amara, wait." He interrupted me, his brow furrowing as he leaned forward. "Can we not rush into this?"

I stared at him, my heart tightening painfully. Was he really going to do this? Now, after everything, was he going to pretend there was anything left to salvage?

"What is there to wait for, Lucas?" My voice was calm, but the hurt was simmering beneath the surface, threatening to spill out of me. "You made it clear where you stand. I'm just trying to make this as straightforward as possible."

"I don't even know what you think you heard, Amara, except for what Jerome told me. Help me out here."

I wanted to throw the wine in his face. How dare he pretend that he hadn't said what he had? That what I heard was innocuous, and I'd misconstrued his words?

"I heard you tell your mother that you're still in love with Kath. You don't know how you feel about me. That you find me comfortable but don't feel any passion. You used the term all-consuming when you talked about Kath."

I stopped speaking because the words made me want to throw up the little I'd managed to eat that day and the few sips of the wine I had just drunk. He had the courtesy to look remorseful. Not guilty, I noticed, but he felt bad that I was feeling bad. Well, he could take his pity and shove it where the sun didn't shine.

"You said to Patsy how you didn't want to hurt me, though you agreed with her that I didn't fit into your world—that I was not a suitable Mrs. Covington."

It was like all the acid inside me was spewing out, through his words.

"Amara, baby," he spoke to me as one would to a skittish animal, "Mama was being…difficult, and I was—"

"Give me the truth, Lucas. I deserve that, don't you think?"

He nodded sadly.

"You never said you loved me. And now I realize it was because you never did."

"I care about you very much, more than I have anyone in my life—"

"Except Kath," I cut in.

He clenched his jaw, and his silence was answer enough. I drank some wine to fortify myself.

"Then we're done, aren't we?"

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It's not that simple, Amara. We've been together for two years. We have a life together."

" Had ," I corrected, feeling the word like a knife. "We had a life together. You ended that when you told your mother what was in your heart, that you weren't sure about me. The insult of it is that you told her and not me."

He winced but I wasn't going to hide how he made me feel because it made him uncomfortable.

"I'm not here to argue," I continued, forcing the words out before the lump in my throat could stop me, "I just want what's fair. I'll give you time to think about the house, but I need an answer soon. I can't stay in limbo. Not all of us have family wealth. I need to get a new place to live, and right now, I don't even have enough to pay a deposit on a rental."

He knew how I'd put all my savings into the townhouse, confident that it was the right financial decision because I was building a future with this man.

He looked down at his drink, swirling the remaining amber liquid in the glass. For a moment, he was quiet, and I almost thought he might apologize. But when he finally spoke, he hurt me more.

"I can buy you out; that's no issue. If you remember, I didn't even want you to spend your money. You'll have your money asap. But I'm not ready to end us. We should take some time to think this through."

Time? How much time had I already wasted waiting for him to decide if I was worth it? The realization hit me hard, the finality of it all. Lucas wasn't heartbroken. He wasn't torn apart like I was. He was just feeling guilty, and that wasn't enough to build a life on.

"To think through what ?" I demanded huskily, heartbroken, angry, broken .

" Us , baby. What we have is good. I—"

"Do you love me?" I asked the same question I'd asked him over the phone.

He looked up at me, and I could see the conflict in his eyes. But it wasn't the sort that would drive him to chase after me or beg me to stay. It was the kind that would hold him back, waiting for the decision to be made for him.

I tossed back the rest of my wine, pulled a twenty from my purse, and tucked it under the glass before standing up.

"Goodbye, Lucas," I whispered, turning away before he could see the tears welling up in my eyes.

As I walked out of The Den, I realized that maybe I wasn't just closing the door on a relationship; perhaps I was closing the door on a part of myself that had been waiting for Lucas to be the man I needed him to be.

By the time I got to Basil's place, I was a mess. I was grateful that Basil was not at home—he'd wanted to be there, but I'd told him I needed to be alone. He didn't know I was meeting Lucas; otherwise, he'd have been at The Den, glowering at my now ex-boyfriend.

I went into the guest room and sat on the bed. I felt like someone had died—like Lucas had, and in the worst way possible. Our relationship had ended, and the man I loved was gone; the man I thought who loved me never even existed.

With trembling hands, I called my father.

"Kiddo, how are you?"

"I'm not good, Daddy," I whispered, my voice cracking. The familiar sound of his kind voice was enough to destroy the last bit of strength I had left. "It's over. Lucas…he doesn't love me. He never did."

There was a pause on the other end. I knew my father was taking in every word, processing it with the careful consideration he always gave to everything.

"Tell me what happened," he said finally, his tone gentle but firm—the way it always was when he knew I needed him to be both my father and the cop who'd seen it all.

I took a shaky breath.

"I overheard him talking to his mother," I began, the words spilling out faster than I could hold them back, as if saying them might somehow lessen the sting. "He said...he said he still loves his ex. And when she asked about me, he said he didn't know if he loved me."

The silence on the other end was heavy, and I could almost picture my father, his jaw tightening, his hand clenching into a fist the way it always did when he was upset.

"That bastard," he muttered under his breath, but I caught it. Even miles away, he was ready to fight for me. "Son of a bitch. I trusted him with you."

Daddy had met Lucas a few times and liked him. In fact, the first time they met, he'd approved of Lucas. " That's a solid man you got there, kiddo. "

How could I have been so wrong about him? I wondered sadly.

I was a careful person. I had had a few boyfriends; actually, two before Lucas, and they were relationships that lasted a couple of years. Now, it felt like that was a pattern. Two years and my time was up. But I'd not been in love with my previous boyfriends. I never lived with them. We dated. We had fun. We were monogamous because that was one of my caveats. I didn't do casual sex or men who did casual sex.

"Kiddo, I don't know what to say. The man I saw, the one I met, I'm certain was in love with you," he said somberly. "I cannot fathom what happened but I suspect the pressure from his family finally became too much."

Daddy hadn't liked Patsy and Shelby, and he'd told me that he'd prefer not to meet them again unless Lucas and I were getting married, or it was unavoidable. He'd actually hit it off with Rena, which had been a surprise to everyone. I'd always thought of her as snobbish and standoffish, but she was charmed by Daddy, and they'd gotten along very well, to the chagrin of Patsy, who was turned off by my family's blue-collar roots.

"And let's not forget, he never got over Kath," I added.

"Sometimes men confuse pride with love." Daddy sounded resigned. "But all this tells me is that he's not the right man for you. Where are you now?"

He knew me well and guessed that I wouldn't have stayed where Lucas and I were building a life. "I'm at Basil's. I couldn't be…," I trailed away, my voice trembling as everything that had happened came crashing down on me.

"Of course." His voice was soft, the anger tempered by a deeper emotion that told me he was feeling my pain as his own. "You did the right thing. I'm proud of you for not letting him string you along."

"But it hurts so much," I confessed, tears spilling over as I buried my face in my hand, the phone pressed to my ear as if it were the only thing keeping me anchored. "I love him, Dad. I thought he loved me too."

How could I have been so wrong? That question kept reverberating inside of me.

"I'm so sorry, kiddo." I could hear the emotion in my father's voice, the way it quivered just slightly as he spoke. "But sometimes people…they don't deserve our love. They take it for granted; they get too caught up in their own lives, their shit. That's not on you. That's on him."

I nodded, even though he couldn't see me. "I feel so lost. I don't know what to do now. I don't know how to move on from this."

"You're stronger than you think, Amara," he assured me, and I could hear the conviction in his voice, the belief he had in me even when I didn't have it in myself. "You'll get through this. And you don't have to do it alone. Come home if you need to. We'll figure it out together."

The thought of going home, of being wrapped in the safety of my father's embrace, of being in the place where I didn't have to be strong or put on a brave face, was almost too tempting. But I wasn't ready to give up on my life in Charleston because of Lucas. I had my career.

"Once we break after summer term, I'll come for a few days." My voice was a little steadier, the tears slowing as I absorbed the comfort of Daddy's words.

Lucas and I had planned to go to Rome between the summer and fall quarters—it would have been my first time. Would he go with Kath now?

Stop torturing yourself, Amara.

"Whenever you need to, come home," Daddy said firmly. "I'm here for you, Amara. Always ."

"Thanks, Daddy," I whispered, my exhaustion catching up with me. "I love you."

"I love you too, kiddo." I could hear the emotion thick in his voice. "Get some rest. Tomorrow's a new day."

I nodded again, feeling lighter, a little less alone. "That's very Scarlett O'Hara."

He laughed then. "No one's ever compared me to a Southern Belle before."

After we ended the call, I let my phone slip from my fingers onto the bed beside me. Curling up on the bed, I closed my eyes and wished for sleep so I didn't have to hurt for a while.