Page 90 of Obsessing Over His Favorite
It was worse.
She looked at him like someone she could barely stand to be near.
The woman who had once loved him blindly now looked at him like even breathing the same air as him was a mistake she couldn’t forgive.
***
Later that night, in a high-end Manhattan bar, the VIP lounge buzzed softly with low music and the delicate clink of crystal glasses. But in a shadowed corner, Lucas sat hunched over the bar, his elbows digging into the polished wood. One hand gripped a whiskey glass so tightly it seemed like his last lifeline, his knuckles pale under the strain.
His tie was loosened, shirt creased, hair a mess of frustrated hands. The bottle beside him was nearly empty.
“Put that down,” Taylor muttered, trying to pry the whiskey glass from Lucas’s hand. “You’ve already had the entire bottle. That stuff’s too strong—you’re going to black out.”
But Lucas pulled the glass back and slammed it down again.
“I thought… if she got her memories back,” he rasped, voice thick, “she’d stop being angry. I thought she’d remember how much we loved each other. I thought she’d… regret even thinking of leaving me.”
His fingers trembled as they dragged down his face.
Taylor leaned against the bar, watching him with a frown. Lucas turned his bloodshot eyes toward him, gaze flickering, lost.
“Why? We were together for five years. Why would she break up with me the moment she remembered everything?” he whispered. “We were good together. Five years… Doesn’t that mean anything?”
Lucas looked genuinely confused. “I loved her… I did everything for her. Am I not good enough for her?”
Taylor let out a deep breath, his fingers clenching the glass of whiskey before tossing the entire thing down his throat in one heavy gulp. He slammed the glass on the counter with a dull thud.
“We’re practically brothers, so I’ll say it straight even if it burns.” Taylor stared at Lucas. “Didn't you not love her?”
Lucas’s brows pulled together as if the question had sucker-punched him.
Taylor leaned in, arms folded tightly across his chest. “Ever since you started dating Emily, everyone thought she was more into you than you were into her. You were always so cold to her in front of people. But with Amelia, you treated her with kindness.” He let out a dry laugh.
Lucas’s hand clenched the rim of his glass until his knuckles whitened.
Taylor continued, “We all thought you’d eventually dump Emily for Amelia. That you were just waiting for the right time.”
Crack.
The glass in Lucas’s hand shattered, whiskey spilling across the table and dripping from his wrist. He didn’t even glance down.
“What the hell are you trying to say?” His voice was hoarse, sharp with fury. “Why would I be with her if I didn’t love her? It’s not like someone was forcing me to be with her. I was with her because I love her.”
Taylor’s eyes darkened. “Then explain what happened when she was in that accident.” His jaw tightened. “You told Dillon, ‘Let me know when she dies.’ Those were your exact words. She heard you.”
Lucas’s body jerked upright. His fingers dug into the edge of the bar.
“I saw her eyes open while I was treating her,” Taylor continued. “Dillon was on the phone with you, and he had it on speaker. I told him to bring the phone closer. I wanted her to hear you. I thought maybe it would snap her out of all the drama. Maybe she’d finally leave you. Or stop acting like some crazy woman throwing herself in front of cars just to make you care.”
Crack.
Before the last word even left Taylor’s mouth, Lucas shot to his feet and punched Taylor across the face, sending him stumbling back.
Blood gushed from his nose, streaking down his chin. He bent slightly, gripping the edge of the counter to stay upright.
But he didn’t retaliate.
He straightened slowly, wiped his bloody nose with the back of his hand, and looked Lucas dead in the eyes.
