Page 52 of Ruin
He hasn’t left the kitchen other than to bring Anastacia’s things upstairs. I can’t tell if it’s because he’s worried I’m goingto snoop through his things or because he just wants to be next to me. Of course, I’m hoping for the latter.
“Medium-well.”
I nod, then get to work heating the pan for the steak, now that the roasted potatoes and vegetables are almost finished.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Kolton
Realizing this is the first time Lucian has cooked me a meal shouldn’t hurt.
It should not fucking hurt in any way, but as I sit at the table, staring down at my empty plate, it’s all I can think about it.
We could have had years of this.
Of him bringing home groceries. Of us putting them away. Of him cooking dinner. Of us sitting down and eating a meal together.
This could have been our life.
And he fucking ruined it.
I stare at the glass of wine he poured for me. I haven’t touched it. I’m afraid to.
I know how I get when alcohol is involved. Lucian in my house, with me drinking? Only bad things can come from that.
The glass taunts me, sitting there untouched. Alcohol does make me forget though, and forgetting is good.
Despite him being here, the thought of feeling better, of forgetting, is tempting. I feel nothing when I drink. My mind is quiet. It doesn’t think. It just… goes blank. The only other thing in the world that did that was him.
I almost want to laugh. The two things that I’ve found to fix me are here, in the same room, and I’m choosing neither.
A glutton for pain, I suppose. Maybe I’m just stubborn.
“Are you finished?”
I blink and look up at Lucian standing beside me, his hand halfway to my empty plate. I nod. He takes it. He reaches for the wine too, but I snatch it before he can. He says nothing as he walks over to the sink to wash the dishes. I let him do so without argument. I’ll rewash them later.
Anastacia has already gone up to her room. She ate quickly, left her dirty dishes in the sink as told by Lucian, then went to sleep.
I can’t believe I have a roommate. Someone living in my house that I need to take care of, and all by myself. It’s clear by what Coyote said that I won’t get any help from the club. Maybe Kaison will help, but the others won’t. They won’t go against the club for this. Not when it’s nothing important to them. Hell, I don’t even know why it’s important to me. There are a million women out there in her same position, and we can’t save them all.
But if I can save one…
Lucian takes his seat at the table, a full glass of wine in his hand.
I take the first sip of mine, and I know I won’t be able to stop now. Not only is it good, but the taste triggers my brain.
This helps. You’ll feel better. Keep going.
It already knows. It’s all I need to feel better, if only for a short time. Maybe I have a problem. Maybe I’m an alcoholic. But who the fuck cares? I sure as hell don’t.
What’s the difference between self-medicating with alcohol, or self-medicating with a married man almost twice my age who’s destined to destroy me? Absolutely nothing.
I finish my glass of wine in the silence of my house. Lucian gets the bottle from the kitchen and comes back with it, refreshing my glass wordlessly, then leaving the bottle in the middle of the table. There’s enough for another glass, but just one. Knowing him, he’ll give it to me.
That’s the thing about Lucian Carter. He’s always pretending to be selfless when really, he’s the most selfish person I know.
“How have you been?”
