Chapter 63
Olivia
"Don't expect him to forgive you. It's not in his nature." Stacy smirks.
"Are you alright?" Albert asks.
"Fine." I won't give Stacy the satisfaction of seeing me cry, but I’m far from alright.
On the outside I look somewhat composed. On the inside I feel like my body is going into convulsions. My heart aches. As if a bear came along and mauled me, Lucas viciously ripped apart my insides.
This is nothing like Nate. This is a hundred times worse. I want to drop on the floor and crumple into a ball, but I won't. I can't. Not in front of her.
"If you'll excuse me, there's a bar a few blocks away. If I know Lucas, he's there tying one on. I think I'll head in that direction and see if I can comfort him."
Stacy smiles her mean, nasty smile at me. Funny how she could switch gears from grieving wife, to woman wronged, to seductress in the blink of an eye.
That leaves me alone with Albert. "You didn't tell him everything."
"You know I'm not allowed. Steven was very clear about that."
"Yes, but he wasn't planning on dying that night. He never thought the will would be read before we were married."
"I can't help the way events played out."
"Dr. Stillwell was afraid Lucas would give the money away. That's why he did this, that's what he tried to prevent."
"Olivia, this is a legal document. I can't just change it on a whim."
Tears sting my eyes; none of this was supposed to happen. Lucas and I were supposed to get married and live happily ever after. Instead he hates me, and I lost him forever.
"Fine." I sniffle. "Then you need to help him set up a non-profit organization,"
"I don't know if there will be enough time . . ."
"You need to follow the spirit of what Dr. Stillwell wanted! Figure out some way for that money to go to Lucas, because I'm telling you right now, there's not going to be a wedding and in the event he gets screwed, I'm coming after you."
He takes a long breath. "I'll see what I can do. I'm guessing you drove here with Lucas."
I nod.
"How about I give you a ride home?"
*
I don't go back for the evening viewing. I don't care how it looks, I just can't stand by and watch Lucas glare at me. The way he looked at me in the vestibule, I've never seen so much hate and anger in his eyes. Not even toward Stacy.
I leave Lucas a message asking him to call me, to text me, just to let me know he’s okay. All I get is silence. I consider going to his house, but I need to give him time to cool off. If I’m honest with myself, the real reason I don't make a move to go to Lucas is fear. I know how he got over Stacy and I’m afraid to find he wasted no time in moving on from me.
It doesn't matter if he lets me explain or not, he isn't going to believe me. After what I saw between Lucas and Joanna Stinner I try to tell myself it’s all for the best. Kids who are abused tend to abuse, and people that were cheated on tend to cheat.
While I keep telling myself I don't want to talk to him, my heart leaps with anticipation every time my phone rings, or alerts me to a text message. I don't care how he communicates, as long as he does. But each time I get my hopes up, they drop hard and fast.
Each day I think the worst is over. That with tomorrow and the promise of a new day the pain will ease, but it doesn't. It only gets worse. How could someone that loved me so much hurt me so bad?
I try not to think of Lucas, not to dwell on the ache and emptiness he left behind, but I can't help it. He invades my thoughts the same way he took over my life. Everywhere I look, everything I touch reminded me of him.
I bailed on Sunday dinner. I told my parents about Dr. Stillwell’s passing, but I can't bring myself to tell them what happened with Lucas. It doesn't matter anyway; he’s now a non-issue for them.
The next Saturday night my doorbell rings. I step on my toes and almost fall face first as I race to the door in the hopes Lucas is on the other side. In the time it takes me to get there, I imagine he'll look just as worn and hurt as I do. He'll take one look at me and pull me in his arms.
I hold my breath as I pull the door open, and feel my body sag as the oxygen seeps from my lungs. Lucas doesn't stand there. My sister and parents do. I can't hold it together anymore. I let the tears fall freely. My mother, her arms full of packages, hands them off to my father and takes me in her arms.
"Sweetheart, I'm so sorry."
Ava must have told her. She’s the only person I've been in contact with since Lucas walked out on me. She offered to come spend the weekend with me, but I wanted to be alone. I hoped to gather enough courage to face him. To force him to listen.
Even if he doesn't want anything more to do with me, I want to plant the seed of truth in his head with the hopes that it might somehow grow into something more.
My mother uses the groceries she brought over to cook dinner, a simple salad and pasta dish. That forces me to sit in the living room and talk to my father and Ava.
"And you wanted to marry him? Isn't it better you see how unreasonable he is now before you found yourself saddled down with kids?" my father asks.
"Dad, please, you don't understand. You don't have the full picture."
"I don't need to. You're my daughter, so of course you're right." The playful look in his eyes tells me he’s kidding. I’m not in the mood for bad jokes.
"This is one of the few times where there is no right or wrong," I explain. "He thinks I was unfaithful to him, and I can understand why."
My father's brows furrow as he leaned toward me. "Were you?"
"Of course not!" I squeal. "It's just, his father left me a lot of money."
Now my father’s looking at me like I’m a whore. Or maybe it’s the guilt of being with Nate that has me feeling like the men in my life are looking at me through the stained lens of a kaleidoscope.
"Why would his father leave you anything?"
And so it begins, hours of reliving every moment of our relationship . . . the revelation that I've been working for Lucas’s father . . . how their relationship fell apart. I confesses everything to my parents. How I tried to convince Lucas to mend fences, and how his father, thankful for what I'd done, wanted only to see us well cared for in the future.
"He wanted to leave it all to Lucas, but since Lucas had been rejecting him for years, he was afraid Lucas would turn around and give it all away to a charity."
"Why not give it to Lucas's mother, why you?"
"Two reasons. He knew I'd make sure Lucas used the money to open the center and make it a reality. He believed in Lucas's dream."
"What's the other reason?" my mother asks.
"We started talking about children. Lucas wanted me to stay home when we had kids, and I wasn't comfortable with that idea. I didn't want to wake up one day alone and responsible for a family, with no way to support them. His father wanted me to feel secure, like I have something to fall back on so I'd have no reason not to stay home."
"Maybe if you explain . . ." my mother starts.
And the tears I thought I'd run out of return.
"Hello," Ava intervenes, "That's the problem; he won’t talk to her. He won’t listen."
"The worst part of it all is that if we're not married, or in the process of planning our wedding, I don't get anything. The money goes to a charity. I don't care about me, but this was supposed to all be for him."
"Okay, so you need a non-profit to donate the money to?"
I let out a frustrated breath. "I want it to go to him." The tears and sobs come in an uncontrollable wave. "Even though he hates me, I still love him. I want him to be happy."
My father's brows shoot up, and I can tell he isn't all that happy about what I’m saying. "You're sure about that?"
I nod with a sniffle. "Positive."
"Before you chose to drop your bomb on Christmas, I'd been quite impressed with Lucas. I liked his ideas and thought what he wanted to do was admirable."
I feel a blank look cover my face. Where is he going with this?
"Years ago when a lot of my clients were making money hand over fist, we set up a non-profit so some of them in need of a tax cut could donate. The organization is committed to benefitting children in need. The need isn't specific, and I thought of reaching out to some people I know to see if they'd be interested."
"Did you?"
"And you're supposed to be the smart one," Ava chimes in. "Don't you get it brainiac? He's saying you could funnel the money through his charity."
I look at my father, afraid to believe it. I want it to be true. I want to at least make this right in Lucas's life.
"It's not my charity, but since the money isn't really ours anyway, it shouldn't be a problem to get the other board members to agree."
I jump up and throw my arms around his neck like I did when I was a little girl. "Thank you so much, Daddy."
"I want to see you happy."
"Dad, you need to promise me something."
"What's that, Princess?"
"He can't know I have anything to do with this."
"Livie, he should know what you're willing to do . . ."
"Promise me."
My father stares at me for a long time before agreeing. When he does, I jump up and call Albert Wells. I don't care that it’s a Sunday; I want to be sure we get this moving as fast as possible.