Page 40 of The Art of Loving You

“Maybe that’s not a bad thing,” I said. “It’s an opportunity, Lucas.”

Lucas scoffed lightly, shaking his head. “An opportunity wrapped in a legal minefield.”

I squeezed his hand. “But your minefield.”

His fingers curled around mine, and the weight of it settled between us.

As we finished eating, I hesitated before speaking again. “So… have you decided if you’re going to bail him out?”

Lucas’s expression darkened, and he picked up his coffee, staring into it as if the answer might appear there. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “Part of me wants to leave him there. Let him face the consequences for once. But another part of me...”He sighed. “He’s my father. No matter what he’s done, it’s hard to just turn my back on him.”

I nodded, understanding more than I wanted to. “If you do decide to bail him out, I’ll go with you,” I said.

Lucas looked up at me, surprised but grateful. “You’d do that?”

“Of course,” I said. “Moral support. But I do need to be home in time to pick up Bess from here. She needs to sleep in her own bed tonight.”

Lucas chuckled softly. “Understood.”

Just as we were finishing the last of our cookies, Bess came bouncing back into the café, grinning from ear to ear.

“Lucas!” she said, plopping into the chair next to him. “When can we go back to New York?”

Lucas blinked at her sudden question. “New York?”

Bess nodded eagerly. “Yeah! I had so much fun at the Met, and I want to see your mom again! And can we go to a bakery with the giant croissants? The ones bigger than my face?”

Lucas laughed, shaking his head. “I don’t have any trips planned yet, but how about something fun here in Miami?”

Bess tilted her head, considering. “Like what?”

Lucas glanced at me, his lips twitching with amusement. “How about the Miami Aquarium this weekend? If Aunt Ella says it’s okay.”

Bess’s eyes lit up as she turned to me. “Aunt Ella, please?”

I pretended to think for a second before smiling. “Of course.”

“Yay!” Bess threw her arms up in excitement, then turned back to Lucas. “Okay, but if we go, you have to touch a stingray.”

Lucas mock-winced. “That’s a bold request. But fine—only if you do it first.”

Bess giggled. “Deal.”

Lucas glanced at me as he stood, lightly touching my lower back as I grabbed the bouquet. He then led me toward Maria, who was overseeing the kids' activities.

"I'll give you a call when I get the update from Dad's attorney," Lucas said with a smile, squeezing my arm gently.

"You know where to find me," I teased, bringing the bouquet to my nose to smell the flowers.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Lucas

The penthouse smelled the same—subtle hints of cedarwood and the faintest trace of the expensive cologne I used to keep in my bathroom. The floor-to-ceiling windows framed the Atlantic, sunlight glinting off the waves as if nothing in my life had changed.

But everything had.

I set the last box down, rolling my shoulders as I took in the space. The oriental rugs, the sleek furnishings, the ocean view—it all looked the same as it had a few days before. But for the first time, it felt like mine. Not something given to me, not something I owed my father for, but something I’d fought to reclaim.

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