Page 60 of No Ordinary Love

It was a fair assessment.

"Lucas and I are nothing but drama."

"You both love each other, and you're both caught up in your heads. He wants to be the good Covington, and you want him to know how you think and feel without telling him."

"Stop being so logical," I grumbled. "I have class. I got to go."

I hung up the phone, but Basil's words lingered in my mind, unsettling as they were. He had a way of cutting through the bullshit, of seeing right through me, and as much as I hated to admit it, he was right. I wasn't the most forgiving person, and I did have a habit of running when things got tough. Butacknowledging that didn't make it any easier to face the mess Lucas and I were.

Was love really enough?

As I walked across the campus, the skip in my step from earlier started to falter. The excitement about the project still buzzed in my veins, but there was an undercurrent of anxiety, too—about Lucas, about leaving Charleston, about whether I was doing the right thing.

But then another thought crept in, one that Basil had planted, whether he meant to or not:What if I wasn't done with Lucas? What if, deep down, I didn't want to be done?

I shook my head, trying to clear away the doubts. This wasn't about Lucas, I reminded myself. This was about the project, about making a difference in women's health in a state where it was desperately needed. And yet, no matter how many times I repeated that to myself, I couldn't deny the truth lurking underneath:I didn't want to leave.

I reached the door of my classroom, my hand hovering over the handle as Basil's words replayed in my mind.You both love each other, and you're both caught up in your heads.

Argh! I didn't want to think about Lucas. I didn't want to think about what Basil had said.

I took a deep breath, opened the door, and stepped into the classroom. My students were already there, chatting amongst themselves, their voices a comforting hum in the background. For a moment, I stood still, letting the normalcy of it all wash over me, grounding me.

As I walked to the front of the room and set down my bag, I made a decision. I wasn't going to let Lucas run me out of town, but I also wasn't going to let myself run away fromhim. Fromus. There were things we needed to talk about, things that needed to be said, and if I was staying in Charleston, then I owed it to both of us to have those conversations.

But not today. I wasn't ready. I didn't know if I'd ever be ready.

Girl, you're so chicken!

On that internal critique, I clapped my hands together to get the attention of my students. "Alright, who can tell me the three main constructs that can modify an individual's perceptions according to the Health Belief Model?"

Chapter 22

Lucas

Basil had come up with the idea of funding a project that he knew Amara would not be able to resist working on. After that, it was just a matter of having Grandma call the Chancellor, who was an old friend, to set the whole thing up.

No doubt, I was manipulating Amara into spending time with me, the sponsor of the South Carolina Women's Health Advocacy Network, which Grandma established early in the year. With the Chancellor's support and others who were like-minded, Grandma had stood it up and was delighted for the women's health communication initiative to be a project the network supported. The goal was to have the research done in the next three months with a recommendation from the College of Charleston on how to proceed. If I was successful in keeping Amara in town, not only would we have her do the research, but we'd haveherrun the implementation of the project as well. The Chancellor had liked that idea very much, that we'd go beyondresearch and take what we learn to help women and girls in our state.

Jax had told me that I'd given Kath too much leeway and this debacle was on me. I got that. I owned up to it. But Kath and I grew up together, and in all honesty, I didn't think she'd pull the stunt she did at the gala.

Worse were her father and my mother, who were relentless in their pursuit of my marriage to Kath. Case and point was them coming to my place to nag and threaten me.

I left work late, not wanting to come to my empty and forlorn townhouse. I wished I'd stopped somewhere to eat, I thought as I stepped inside. Life had become monotonous for me. I worked a lot because what the hell else was there to do? I was home for as little as possible. Amara had taken all her things with her. I missed her artwork, her stuff in the bedroom, her kitchenware—all of it. The housekeeper kept everything spotless and even made sure there were fresh flowers every week, but it wasn't the same. There were no warm smells of food when I got home. No laughter when she saw me. No hugs and kisses waiting for me. I was one sad fucking puppy.

I usually got home after she used to, but she never bitched about it like I knew some spouses did. My colleagues and friends, both male and female, often talked about how their partners thought they were workaholics. In couples where both people worked long hours, there were frequent debates about whose job took priority—a tension that only intensified once they had kids.

We hadn't had any of those discussions. Granted, we didn't have children, but Amara's job was as important as mine to me, regardless of how much money we made.

I collapsed on the couch and stared at the walls that had been covered with art, but now there wasn't much left. Amara had taken all the color with her, and I hadn't bothered to put any ofmy artwork on the bare walls. I wasn't home enough to give a shit.

Home?No, this wasn't home. It had become a place to sleep since Amara left. How could I have been so dumb to not have understood how I felt about her? I asked her to move in with me, and that sure as hell should've told me that I loved her. Instead, I'd let my ego and pride take over when Mama told me how Kath was single again and wanted to be with me. The worst thing was that after all this, I knew that Kath and I were bad news. That toxicity could survive when we were kids, but as grown-ups, that was just too much drama for anyone to tolerate.

I didn't understand why Kath wanted to be with me. I'd asked her, and she kept saying she loved me. I didn't believe her.

She probably wanted to be back in her father's good graces after she'd screwed up her status as the golden child when she left me for Mercer.

Flynn was never Hugh's heir apparent because he wasn't very bright. We had given him a position at LPC that paid him well enough, especially since he was married to my sister. It was a sales role and he more or less did a decent job. He liked to wine and dine clients—and did no harm, which was all I asked of him. Kath had been the one who was going to do amazing things—and she was. She was the CFO and a senior executive at LPC, which was a multi-million dollar company. But Hugh wanted more—he wanted her to marry me.

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