Page 66 of The Call She Made That He Never Answered
But when I stepped out of the elevator, every thought froze instantly.
At the end of the hallway by the window, a crimson ember glowed in the dark. Someone was smoking by the window at the end of the hall. The figure faced away from me, tall silhouette leaning against the floor-to-ceiling window, shrouded in smoke and shadow.
Even just a silhouette, I recognized him.
Lucas.
He seemed to hear my footsteps and slowly turned around. In that moment, I almost forgot how to breathe.
Light slanted into the hallway, bathing him like a cold marble statue. His gaze locked on me, something dangerous flickering in his eyes. Anger. Bitterness. And something more terrifying.
"So that's why you were so eager to throw me out of your life like garbage, isn't it? Because of that man in the car?" he spoke, voice a low rumble deep in his throat.
I stood frozen, brain blank.
He dropped the cigarette and ground it out with his shoe. Sparks scattered, especially harsh in the dim hallway. Then he started walking toward me. Each step heavy, like he wanted to leave footprints in the floor.
I backed away instinctively until my spine hit the cold wall.
"Tell me!" His tone was commanding.
"What?"
"That doctor." He spat the words like something filthy. "Joe. Are you with him?"
My heart hammered in my chest. "How is that any of your business?" I forced out. "We're divorced."
"I never signed the papers."
As he said this, he stepped closer, closing in until I could smell the heavy tobacco on him. How many cigarettes had he smoked?
"You're my wife! How could you be with another man?" He slammed his hand against the wall by my ear, his massive shadow swallowing me instantly. He bent down, that handsome but sinister face pressing close to my nose. I could feel his rapid, burning breath mixed with barely suppressed rage. "Ella, I watched from that window. Saw everything clear as day. Youwere sitting in that man's piece-of-shit car. His mouth touched you, didn't it? Where did his hands go? Here? Or here?"
His defined fingers seized my chin, force almost crushing my bones. His eyes turned red and wild in that moment.
"Let go of me! You maniac!" I screamed, shoving his hand away. "What gives you the right to control me? Wait. How did you even know I live here? You had me followed? Those weird people showing up around me lately—that was you!"
"I'm your husband!" He pinned me in the corner, pressing down on me. "That's me protecting you! If my people weren't watching you twenty-four-seven, do you have any idea how dangerous it is for a single pretty woman living in a place like this? What can that doctor give you? A timid kiss? Let you struggle in this slum? He can't even pay your medical bills!"
"He gave me respect! He gave me warmth you never did!" I screamed hysterically, all my restraint exploding in that moment. "Lucas, every night I waited for you to come home, where were you? I walked five kilometers in the rain, calling until your phone died—where were you then? Did you ever consider my feelings? Now I finally don't have to wait anymore. I gave up on you! Please just let me go! I really can't keep living in pain like this!"
My hands flailed, fingernails scratching a bloody line across his hand.
Blood beaded on his skin. I froze.
Lucas glanced at his hand indifferently, then raised it. I thought he'd strike back and flinched away, but felt his warm fingertip brush the corner of my eye.
I startled.
When did I start crying?
I'd told myself countless times not to fall apart in front of Lucas, but when he actually appeared, I realized I couldn't helpit. I could keep composed in front of everyone, even Maya. But the moment he spoke, I completely crumbled.
The massive shadow withdrew. Lucas finally released me. He fumbled in his suit pocket. I noticed his hands trembling slightly until he pulled out cigarettes again.
Lit one. The scalding red tip burned a hole in the darkness. I saw his usually proud, straight shoulders sag slightly.
"Are you with Joe? Does he really make you happy?" His voice dropped from explosive to low, almost like he was talking to himself. "You left me for over a month. Did you think about me at all? Have you forgotten me? Forgotten our home?"
