6
Eventually, Lucas Ryan’s overwhelming emotions caught up to him, and he passed out.
I followed him to his hospital room, settling on the couch in the corner as I silently watched him. To my surprise, I felt a strange sense of
satisfaction.
When the accident first happened, I had desperately hoped he would realize something was wrong, that he’d find me and bring me home. But after witnessing him cut my heart out of my body and transplant it into Evelyn Snow’s, and later watching his indifference to my disappearance, something inside me had crumbled.
For the first time, I understood what it meant to feel truly dead inside.
They say even a dog would grow attached to its owner after being cared for long enough, but Lucas Ryan? He was as cold a’s stone.
Then again, why would he show me any affection when he didn’t love me to begin with?
Lost in thought, I barely noticed when Evelyn Snow entered the room. She was still in her hospital gown, her face pale and drawn with worry. She quietly sat by his bedside, her hands clasped tightly in her lap.
Not long after, Lucas stirred and opened his eyes.
“Lucas! You’re awake!”
Evelyn’s voice was full of relief as she threw herself onto him, her words tumbling out in a mix of sobs and excitement.
“I know Claire’s sudden death must be hard for you to process,” she said, choking on her tears. “But if you think about it, this is a good thing, isn’t it? There’s nothing standing between us anymore.”
“My illness is cured because of Claire’s heart, Lucas. You should be happy for me!”
Lucas didn’t respond. Instead, he pushed her away abruptly, throwing the blanket off as he stumbled out of bed.
Alarmed, Evelyn jumped up and grabbed his arm, tears streaming down her face. “Where are you going, Lucas?”
“I’m going home,” he muttered, his voice distant, as though he were speaking to himself.
He kept walking toward the door, mumbling under his breath, “Claire’s waiting for me at home. If I don’t get back soon, she’ll be mad. And when she’s mad, she ignores me.”
Evelyn froze, her face turning pale as the color drained from her cheeks. She let go of his arm, stunned into silence.
By the time Lucas made it home, night had already fallen.
When he opened the door, he wasn’t greeted by the warm smile he had taken for granted for so many years. Instead, all that welcomed him
1:06 PM
<
was silence–a dark, cold, and empty house.
I followed him inside, taking a deep breath as I looked around.
Everything was exactly the same as when I had left that morning. The furniture, the decorations, even the faint scent of flowe
from the vase
on the table.
Yet somehow, everything felt different.
Lucas stood frozen in the doorway, his expression blank as he stared at the living room. It was a long time before he managed smile and mutter, “Claire, I’m home.”
force a weak
But no one would ever answer him again.
Watching this, I rolled my eyes in exasperation.
“Where was all this when I was alive, huh? I used to wait for you every night with dinner ready, and you didn’t even blink.”
“What an act.”
Of course, Lucas couldn’t hear me. He stood there for a long time before finally taking slow, heavy steps into the living room.
On the coffee table, there was a single piece of paper sitting quietly in the center. It was the pregnancy report I had left behind.
I followed his gaze and sighed.
I hadn’t expected much from him when I agreed to the divorce. But deep down, I had wanted him to know. I had wanted him to understand that I was carrying his child.
Lucas collapsed onto the couch, reaching for the report with trembling hands.
As his eyes scanned the words, he froze. A moment later, he buried his face in his hands, his body shaking as he broke into uncontrollable sobs.
“I’m such a bastard,” he choked out, his tears soaking the paper as they fell.
In the deafening silence of the house, his grief echoed endlessly, amplifying the weight of his sorrow.
I couldn’t help but think back to a year ago at his friend’s baby’s christening.
That day, I had seen something on Lucas’s face I had never seen before–gentle warmth. He had held the tiny baby in his arms with a mixture of nervousness and joy, his smile so radiant it was almost childlike.
In that moment, I had thought to myself, Lucas must love children.
I let myself believe that if we ever had a child, he might actually care–maybe even love me a little because of it.
It was naïve, I know.
But now, none of that mattered.
There was no child.
There was no love.
And I no longer cared if he ever loved me.
