Page 47 of Her Brother's Billionaire Best Friend

“Yeah,” said David. “Not that we made it hard for him. Mom and Dad wouldn’t even speak to him after it all…”

“David,” I said, sitting down so that we were at eye level. “I know it’s hard. But you have to move on. I have to move on. I can’t think about him anymore. I can’t hope that one day he’ll—” I began to choke a little on my words.

“Hey now,” said David, reaching across to touch my arm. “It’s okay.”

“No,” I said. “It’s not. I’m going out for some air,” I muttered, as I stood up. “Make sure Kyle goes to bed, huh?”

“All right,” said David. I left, and shut the front door behind me. I stepped down to the porch and began to walk back into town. It was dark now, and the little sea of lights in the valley below and the pale moon above were the only light to see by.

I had no idea where I was going. Maybe I could get a drink or something at a bar. Anything to take my mind off the old, aching pain that I’d been carrying all these years.

I was turning the corner in the road when suddenly I turned back and realized I was far enough from the house that the lights had disappeared, and I started to sob a little. I raised my hand to wipe away the tears.

“Laura?” said a voice in the dark, and I looked up, startled.

For a moment, I thought I’d heard Conor’s voice.

But it wasn’t Conor.

There, in the moonlight, with his suit jacket thrown over his shoulder, was Lucien.

*

I’d never been in Lucien’s living room before. Together, we sat by the fireplace in a pair of armchairs. Lucien turned on an enormous, brass reading lamp he kept by his drinks cabinet. Quickly and quietly, he opened a bottle while I watched his wide back. He turned and passed me a glass with two fingers of whiskey.

“Thanks,” I said.

“Beats drinking in town,” said Lucien.

“Beats drinking alone,” I replied. “Thanks.” I raised my glass to him.

“Why were you out there on the road?”

“It was all a little too much at home, I guess.”

“Is David still angry with me?” said Lucien, as he settled into his armchair. He’d taken off his tie now and sat before me in shirtsleeves, his legs crossed. He looked debonair and handsome, and I resisted the urge to stare at his broad shoulders.

“No,” said Laura. “He’ll apologize next time you guys see each other. I think he’s just stressed.”

“Why’s that?”

I looked up from the amber liquid in the glass and into his open, honest face. In the soft light, Lucien’s scar was almost invisible. “There was…someone,” I said. “A long time ago. We were both close to him.”

Lucien gave a single nod, and took a sip of his whiskey. “Boyfriend?”

“Husband,” I said sadly, “almost.”

“What happened to him?” Lucien said. I turned and flashed my eyes at him, on the lookout for any cruelty or smart remarks. But aside from the strange smile playing on his lips, I felt like he really was interested.

“It didn’t work out,” I said. “Anyway, it’s an old wound.”

“So why does it hurt now?”

“I don’t know. David feels like this person—this man, well…he feels he was treated unfairly.”

“Is that true?”

“I don’t know,” I sighed, folding my arms. I knew very well that running away from my wedding to Conor had been the cruelest thing I could do. But I also knew that there was no choice. After all, could I have stayed behind with a man who didn’t want to raise Kyle?