‘But it’s not,’ Lucas said. ‘You’re reliving it now by divorcing Rosa. What about getting some counselling? Or having a go at making your relationship work instead of calling time on it or having an affair with someone else who catches your eye?’
Lionel shrugged and picked up his phone again. ‘When a relationship is over, it’s over.’
‘I don’t believe that,’ Lucas said. ‘I used to, but not now. You keep sabotaging your relationships because you’re frightened of loving someone totally. You always have a get-out plan.’
‘What’s got into you?’
Lucas pushed back his chair and stood. ‘I’m sorry. I can’t stay. I have to see someone. Urgently. I hope you work things out with Rosa. For her sake as well as yours and the children’s. Please send them my regards.’
Lionel looked at him with a frown. ‘But I’ve come all this way to catch up with you.’
His tone sounded like a petulant child’s, and it made Lucas realise again how immature his father was. His father had never truly grown up, taken responsibility or faced reality. Lucas could not bear to turn out like him. That would indeed be his biggest failure if he did. His father walked away when things got difficult. He didn’t stay and work through problems, and he didn’t for a moment even consider himself a part of the problem—which was a problem in itself.
Lucas gave a bark of a laugh. ‘A ten-minute slot in your busy day? That’s not a catch-up—that’s an insult. It doesn’t surprise me that Rosa’s fed up if you slot her in like you do everyone else. If you love someone, you make time for them.’
Lionel had the grace to look a little ashamed. ‘I’m not good at relationships...you of all people should know that.’
‘I do know it—but I also know you can change if you want to badly enough.’ Lucas moved around to his father’s side of the table and laid his hand on his shoulder. ‘Don’t waste yet another opportunity for growth.’
Lionel briefly laid his hand over Lucas’s. ‘It was good to see you, son.’
‘It was great to see you too, Dad,’ Lucas said, and he meant it in more ways than one.
Ruby was in her home office, designing a menu for a wedding for an older couple who had once been childhood sweethearts but ended up marrying other people. Now in their fifties, and both widowed, they had reconnected and fallen in love all over again.
Such happy stories were part of the joy of Ruby’s career, but the downside was that it made her ache for her own happy ending. Surely she wouldn’t have to wait until her fifties to hear those special words from the love of her life?
She had heard nothing from Lucas—which, prior to their fling, would not have been unusual. Months, even years could go by with zero contact. But in that short time during their fling they had shared so much together—more than she had shared with anyone else. Their intimacy had made her hope he had fallen for her as hard as she had for him.
She’d tried to douse her hopes and move on with her life, distracting herself with work and spending time with her friends, but no amount of activity and socialising could ever fill the void of loneliness of having loved and lost the only person she wanted.
Ruby had just clicked ‘save’ on her laptop when her doorbell rang. She wasn’t expecting anyone. Harper and Aerin had been over the previous night for a movie and homemade pizza. Harper had still been complaining about her niggling backache, but she wouldn’t see anyone about it. Ruby knew better than to nag, but it did worry her that Harper wasn’t her usually hale and hearty and healthy self.
She pushed back her chair and peeped through the security hole in her front door. Lucas was standing there, with a bunch of red roses in one hand, and her heart came to a juddering halt. She unlocked the door and opened it, her stomach a hive of activity. Excitement, nerves, confusion, hope—all were churning around in there.
‘Lucas?’
‘May I come in?’
‘Sure.’ She closed the door once he was inside. ‘I didn’t expect to see you.’
Lucas handed her the roses. ‘These are for you.’
His voice was so husky it sounded as if he had swallowed some of the roses’ thorns.
She bent her head to smell the blood-red blooms. Trust a landscape architect to give you the real thing, not those hothouse ones without any scent.
She looked up at him again. ‘You’re not wearing your sunglasses.’
He smiled, and her heart gave a soft little flutter.
‘That’s because I can see a little better.’
‘Really? I’m so thrilled for you.’
Ruby put the roses to one side, too nervous to find a vase. Did she even have a vase? She’d broken her only one a few months ago and hadn’t got around to replacing it. Why was he here? Just to tell her he had his sight back? Or dared she hope he had come for some other reason?
‘Ruby.’ He held out his hands to her. ‘Come here.’