After dropping Ram off at her home, Lara decided to stop by the market to restock their groceries. Their supplies were running low, and she figured she might as well take care of it now before the weekend.
The trip took longer than expected. Between picking out fresh produce, comparing prices, and waiting in the long checkout line, two hours had passed by the time she was done. By the time she arrived home, the sun was beginning to set, casting a warm glow through the windows.
Lara changed into more comfortable clothes before heading to the kitchen to put away the groceries. Once everything was sorted, she gathered the dirty laundry from both her room and Lucas's and tossed them into the washing machine.
As the clothes spun in the washer, Lara pulled out her phone from the pocket of her shorts and sent Lucas a message.
Lara: What time are you coming home?
She stared at the screen, waiting for the little "typing…" indicator that never appeared. It wasn't surprising. Lucas rarely replied to her messages. Letting out a sigh, she exited the chat and opened Instagram, scrolling absentmindedly through her feed.
A few minutes later, her phone buzzed. But it wasn't Lucas.
Mom calling…
Lara's lips twitched into a small smile as she answered. "Hi, Mom."
["Honey! When are you coming to visit? Your dad and I miss you dearly!"] her mother's voice rang through the speaker, full of warmth.
Lara couldn't help but smile at her mother's affectionate tone. "I miss you both too. I'll visit this weekend, I promise."
["Oh, that's wonderful! Your dad will be thrilled!"] Her mother's excitement was almost contagious. Almost. ["And don't forget to bring Lucas! Speaking of him… is he treating you well? He's not neglecting you, is he?"]
Lara hesitated.
How was she supposed to answer that? Tell her mother that Lucas barely acknowledged her presence? That he only came home when it was convenient for him? That in their three years of marriage, he had never once treated her like a real wife?
Lara forced a small laugh. "Of course, Mom. You know Lucas—he's a great man."
A lie.
A harmless one, she told herself.
As much as she wished she had someone to confide in, she couldn't bring herself to tell her parents the truth. Her father had never been too fond of Lucas to begin with. If he knew how things truly were, it would only make things worse.
["That's good to hear,"] her mother said, sounding relieved. Then her voice turned playful. ["But when are you giving us grandchildren? I miss having kids running around the house. Your brother is hopeless—he refuses to settle down. We're relying on you! It's been three years, Lara. I'm not trying to pressure you, but your dad and I aren't getting any younger. We want to see our grandkids while we still can."]
Lara felt her chest tighten.
A baby.
She wanted children. She truly did.
But how could she have a child when her husband barely looked at her, let alone touched her?
Lara swallowed past the lump in her throat and forced another chuckle. "Mom, Lucas and I are still young. There's a right time for everything. Right now, we're focused on our careers."
Her mother sighed dramatically. ["Oh, come on. Careers? Sweetheart, three years is more than enough time! Don't tell me you're still in the honeymoon phase?"] her mother teased. ["Does Lucas not want to share your attention with anyone? How possessive of him!"]
Lara forced out a small laugh. If only her mother knew how ironic that statement was.
Honeymoon phase?
They didn't even have a honeymoon. She was all alone during that 2-weeks trip to the Maldives.
And Lucas? Possessive of her? The idea was almost comical.
The man couldn't care less about her.
She bit the inside of her cheek, pushing down the bitter thoughts. "Mom, stop teasing me," she said, keeping her voice light.
["Oh, come on, am I wrong?"] Her mother huffed. ["You young ones are so confusing. But really, think about it, okay? I'd love a grandchild! My friends keep showing off their grandkids, and I can't help but feel envious!"]
"Then talk to Kuya Levi about it. He's already thirty-five. You should be pressuring him, not me."
["Your brother? Please. That man is a lost cause. He's practically married to his job. At this rate, he might as well sign a contract with his company and call it a marriage! I pity his future wife."]
Lara chuckled. "Oh, Mom, you're so mean to Kuya. But you know, that's what makes him attractive. Women these days love mature, career-driven men."
Her mother scoffed. ["You kids these days and your strange tastes. Back in my day—"]
And just like that, her mother launched into another long-winded story about her youth. Lara winced as she listened, knowing there was no stopping her now.
Lara could only press her lips together, listening patiently.
["Oh, dear! Look at the time! I almost forgot—I have dinner plans with my amigas tonight."] Her mother gasped. ["I'd love to chat more, dear, but I have to go. Just don't forget about our plans this weekend, okay? Your dad and I will be waiting! I love you, honey. Take care!"]
"I love you too, Mom. Enjoy your dinner."
["Thank you, sweetheart. Bye!"]
As soon as the call ended, Lara let out a deep sigh and placed her phone on the counter.
That conversation had been exhausting.
She loved her mother, but talking about her marriage always left her feeling suffocated. The guilt of lying to them weighed heavily on her chest. It was one of the reasons she rarely visited home. Her parents, especially her Mom, always expected Lucas to come along, and she knew he never would.
And now, she had to find a way to convince her emotionally distant husband to visit her family this weekend.
Ugh. What a mess.
Shoving her phone back into her pocket, she turned her attention back to the laundry. The washing machine had finished, so she moved the clothes to the dryer. Once they were dry, she placed them into a laundry basket and made her way to Lucas's room.
She rarely entered his space, but since she had already done the laundry, she figured she might as well put his clothes away.
Lucas's room was spotless, just as she expected. Everything was neat and organized, reflecting his personality.
She took her time folding his clothes, smoothing out the fabric, and carefully arranging them in his closet. It wasn't often that she entered his room. It felt foreign yet familiar at the same time.
The scent of his cologne lingered in the air, clinging to the sheets and pillows. Without thinking, Lara sat on the bed, hugging one of his pillows close.
It smelled just like him.
A soft, wistful smile tugged at her lips as she closed her eyes. If she imagined hard enough, it almost felt like she was holding him.
The warmth, the closeness—things she had longed for but never received.
And before she knew it, she had drifted off to sleep.
...
Lara jolted awake, heart pounding.
Disoriented, she blinked at the unfamiliar ceiling.
Lucas' room.
The realization hit her like a bucket of cold water. She sat up abruptly, glancing around. The sheets were slightly rumpled from where she had slept, but the bed was otherwise untouched.
Lucas wasn't here.
Fumbling for her phone, she checked the time—11:00 PM.
Had she really slept that long?
Panicking, she quickly straightened the sheets and left his room, heading downstairs.
The house was eerily quiet.
There was no sign of Lucas.
A pang of unease settled in her chest. He was never this late.
Frowning, she pulled out her phone and checked her messages. Still no reply.
Her thumb hovered over the screen before she typed another message.
Lara:Where are you? Are you coming home?
She waited.
Two minute. No response.
Five minutes. Still nothing.
Ten minutes. Silence.
Biting her lip, she tried calling him.
The number you have dialed cannot be reached.
Her stomach twisted with unease.
Where was he?
Lucas was often distant, sometimes even cold—but he was never this late. He might come home late, but not like this.
Worry gnawed at her insides.
A thousand thoughts ran through her head, each one worse than the last.
Was he okay? Was something wrong?
Or… was he with someone else?
The thought made her chest tighten painfully.
She squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head.
No.
She refused to let her mind go there.
Trying to calm her nerves, she made herself a light meal, though she barely tasted it. The clinking of utensils against her plate was the only sound in the house. By the time she finished washing the dishes, it was midnight, and Lucas was still nowhere to be found.
Curling up on the couch, she hugged her knees to her chest. The TV flickered in the background, but she wasn't paying attention.
She checked her phone again.
Still nothing.
Still no Lucas.
Her fingers tightened around her phone.
She wasn't just worried anymore. She was frustrated.
Where the hell was he?
Minutes turned into hours.
At some point, exhaustion had won, and Lara had dozed off on the couch. But the sharp ringing of the doorbell stirred her awake.
Her heart leaped into her throat as she shot up, blinking away the drowsiness. The room was dark, save for the dim glow of the TV screen.
She glanced at the clock. 2:13 AM.
Who could be visiting this late?
With a deep sigh, she pushed herself off the couch and made her way to the door. The doorbell rang again, more insistent this time. Her brows knitted together she hesitated for a moment. Peeking through the peephole, she was met with a familiar face.
Izek?
Without wasting another second, she unlocked the door and swung it open. Her eyes widened at the sight before her.
There, standing under the dim glow of the porch light, was Izek—one of Lucas's close friends. And beside him, slumped against his shoulder, was Lucas himself. Disheveled. Drunk. Completely wasted.
Lara's stomach twisted at the sight.
"Hey," Izek greeted, offering an awkward smile. "Care to help?"
Lara's gaze dropped to Lucas, and her heart clenched. His normally crisp shirt was wrinkled, the top buttons undone. His usually sharp eyes were half-lidded, unfocused. His face was flushed from alcohol.
"What happened? Why is he like this?" she asked, stepping forward to help support Lucas's weight as they guided him inside.
Izek exhaled sharply. "I don't think it's my story to tell. I'm sorry, Nics." he said grimly, his expression dark.
That didn't sit well with her.
As they settled Lucas onto the couch, she stole a glance at Izek and noticed the tension in his jaw. His hands clenched into fists at his sides, and Lara didn't miss the frustration simmering in his eyes as he glared at Lucas.
"He's my friend, but right now, I really want to beat the shit out of him," Izek muttered under his breath. "What an asshole."
Lara's brows furrowed. "What happened?" she pressed, her voice laced with both confusion and concern.
Izek exhaled sharply and shook his head. "Forget it." he ran a hand through his hair, his anger momentarily giving way to something softer when he met her gaze. "You're too good for him, you know that?"
Lara's blinked, taken aback.
"What?"
"Never mind," he muttered with a sigh. "Anyway, I should go. You don't need to take care of him—just leave him be. He deserves it."
Lara opened her mouth to respond, but Izek had already patted her shoulder lightly. "You don't have to see me off. Just lock the door."
And with that, he walked out, leaving her alone with the drunken mess that was her husband.
Lara's gaze slowly dropped to Lucas, sprawled out on the couch, his chest rising and falling with slow, uneven breaths.
A whirlwind of emotions crashed through her—anger, worry, disappointment.
She clenched her fists.
What the hell happened tonight?
He had been out drinking while she sat here, waiting, worrying.
And for what?
Her chest tightened painfully. She wanted to shake him awake, demand an explanation, yell at him for making her feel like this.
But even if she asked, would he answer?
Would he even care?
She let out a bitter laugh, tilting her head back as frustration bubbled within her.
Of course not.
Lucas had never cared before. Why would he start now?
With a heavy sigh, she turned away, intending to leave him there for the night. She refused to stay here, hovering over him like a fool. But just as she took a step away—
A hand shot out, weakly wrapping around her wrist.
Lara froze.
"Don't go…"
Lucas's voice was slurred, barely above a whisper, but it sent a jolt through her body.
Her heart pounded as she turned back to face him. His grip on her wrist was weak yet desperate, his half-lidded eyes searching for something—someone.
"Don't go…" he murmured again, voice thick with emotion. "Please… don't leave me."
Lara's breath hitched.
What is this? What's happening?
Her pulse raced. For so long, she had longed to hear those words from him—to hear him ask her to stay. And now, he was finally saying them.
Her chest tightened, a fragile hope blooming within her.
She immediately knelt in front of him, her hands shaking as she reached for his. "Lucas," she whispered, her voice breaking.
His eyes fluttered open slightly, and his fingers brushed against her cheek. The gentleness of his touch sent shivers down her spine.
"I won't leave," she promised, tears welling in her eyes. "I'm here."
Lucas let out a shaky breath. His grip on her hand tightened.
"I can't live without you…" His voice cracked. "I… I love you… Please don't leave me…"
Lara's heart stopped.
Her lips parted in shock as his words echoed in her mind.
He… loves me?
A sob built in her throat, overwhelmed by the flood of emotions crashing over her. She didn't care if he was drunk. She didn't care if it was the alcohol talking. She knew it was pathetic but it didn't matter.
Because for three years, she had been waiting.
Waiting for him to look at her.
Waiting for him to want her.
Waiting for him to love her back.
And right now, at this moment, he was telling her what she had always wanted to hear.
He loves me. Lucas loves me.
Tears welled in Lara's eyes as she reached out, her fingers trembling as they cupped his face.
"I love—"
"Riah…"
The name was a whisper.
But it might as well have been a scream.
Lara froze.
Her heart, which had been hammering in her chest just moments ago, suddenly felt like it had stopped altogether.
No… she must have misheard.
She had to be wrong.
But then—
"Riah…"
He said it again.
And this time, it shattered her.
The name hung between them, thick and suffocating, crushing the fragile hope she had clung to.
Her fingers trembled against his skin.
It wasn't her name.
It wasn't her he was thinking about.
A cold, suffocating weight pressed down on her chest as realization slammed into her like a tidal wave.
Lucas's grip on her wrist tightened, his drunken, unfocused eyes gazing at her—no, past her. Through her. He wasn't seeing her at all.
"Riah…" he murmured again, his voice raw, filled with longing and pain.
Then, in a voice so broken it made her breath hitch—
"I love you… I love you so much… please don't leave me…"
Lara felt like she was drowning.
A sharp, searing pain shot through her chest as she stared at the man she loved, the man she had given everything to—only to hear another woman's name fall from his lips.
This whole time…
He wasn't talking to her.
Her vision blurred with fresh tears. A hollow laugh bubbled up her throat. It broke past her lips—shaky, broken, filled with agony.
How pathetic.
She had been a fool.
A complete, hopeless fool.
For three years, she had waited. Longed. Wished.
For three years, she had told herself that if she just stayed, if she just loved him enough, one day, he would look at her the way she looked at him.
One day, he would want her.
One day, he would love her.
And now?
Now she knew the truth.
Lucas wasn't hers. He never was.
And he never would be.
Her hands trembled as she wrenched herself free, as if his very touch burned her. She stumbled back, her knees giving out beneath her, hitting the floor in a heap of grief.
Lucas, oblivious, reached out—searching for someone who wasn't there. Someone who wasn't her.
Tears spilled freely down her cheeks, silent and unrelenting, as she stared at him. The man she had love with all her heart.
Lucas, the husband who had never truly been hers.
Lucas, the man who, even in his most vulnerable state, wasn't calling for her.
Her name had never been the one he whispered in the dark.
Her love had never been the one he needed.
And it never would be.
A fresh wave of agony crashed over her, raw and unyielding, as the finality of it all sank in.
Hope—so fragile, so desperate—had been the only thing keeping her standing.
But now?
Now it was dead.
Life had never felt crueler than it did in that moment.