The glass lay broken at his feet, the clear liquid spilling across the toes of his bare feet.
He glanced up at the woman standing in the hallway, and searched her eyes for some sign of what she wanted him to do, say. But there was no quick fix or easy answers in her wounded gaze. There was nothing but a sheer white emptiness, a resigned sort of sadness that ripped through the center of his chest, violently tugging at the happy memories her beautiful face held.
Or once held, he thought, watching, waiting for any sign for what he should, could, say to make her realize it hadn't meant a thing and she was all he needed.
It didn't mean a thing, that was what his brain was telling him and yet he did it and there she stood with that look in her eyes, like she was dying inside.
He lifted a hand, curving his fingers over her upper arm, mindless of the broken glass that lay between them, and stilling her movements. He needed to explain and if she walked away now…shaking his head, he held her hurt gaze, pleading silently with her to stay.
To let him explain even if he had no clue as to what he could say and she wouldn't be looking at him that way; like he was a stranger.
She drew in a sharp breath, her body shuddering, tensing beneath his touch and he knew, knew she was pulling away from. Closing herself off to him and ready to give him exactly what he deserved; the sight of her walking away from him, from their life, for good.
His mouth opened, parting, ready to apologize for what she had unwittingly walked in on just moments before but no words came. They should, he thought, he was a writer after all.
Looking away from her hurt gaze only to look back, he hoped against hope that maybe, just maybe he'd see forgiveness staring back.
But there was none. Just a look of total devastation and he felt his heart shattered
"Lindsey," He breathed out, "I…please, let me…"
Please what? What could he say that would erase that look in her eyes? Erase what she had seen? What he had done. Sorry wouldn't cut it, he knew that.
No, sorry was not what she wanted to hear.
Only he didn't know what to say. Not about this.
Not when he the truth was in the other room.
He sighed, letting her go, and lifted his hand to rub the back of his neck. "I'm sorry," he whispered softly, hesitantly, lowering his gaze back to the floor. "I'm so sorry I…"
"No." She spat out, her voice harsh and cold, causing him to shudder at the sound. "You aren't sorry. You wanted this. You wanted her and please don't pretend you didn't because I know how you feel about her. We all do."
He shook his head, wanting, no needing, to deny it and knowing he really couldn't.
Not anymore.
Because he knew the truth and tonight, watching her move across the floor of Tric, laughing with their friends and the way her emerald eyes sparkled at something his brother said, he felt something inside him shift, like his world was tilting on its axis and all because she smiled.
He had watched her all night, following her with his eyes and smiling when she caught his gaze once, her smile hidden behind her glass of wine. Her gaze lingered for a moment before she turned away, whispering in her best friend's ear and disappearing in the crowd. His heart had clenched at the thought she was leaving but when he spotted her curls in the distance and the way she glanced over her shoulder, sending him that smile and that look, before disappearing behind her office door, he knew, in that moment, he loved her still.
That he wanted her again. That he always wanted her and no one else.
And now he had her again, sleeping in his bed where she belonged. Her silky blonde hair spilling across his pillow, resting from their night of reconnecting and finding themselves again and he didn't regret it. Not a single moment of it did he regret despite the guilt that had washed over him the moment he saw her standing there, in the hallway with a look of utter pain shining in her eyes.
"I'm sorry," He repeated. "I didn't plan it. We didn't plan it. It's just that…god I never meant to hurt you."
"But you did hurt me, didn't you? You swore to me, Lucas, you swore that you didn't want her, that you didn't feel anything for her anymore. That you were over her and she was your past and I was your future. But you lied to me. You lied to me because she's in there" She cried, pointing to the partially closed bedroom door. Her eyes glistening with unshed tears, her voice fading to a whisper, "And I'm out here. I'm… out here."
He closed his eyes, instinctively pulling her to him and murmuring words he wasn't sure he deserved to say to her. Like forgive me and I'm sorry.
He had promised. Swore to her in this very spot which he held now, promising her he didn't want his ex and she didn't have anything to worry about and that she was the one he needed, not the blonde from his past. It made him sick, his broken promise to Lindsey but just the mere thought of the woman lying in his bed now, comforted him.
"Luke?" The woman in question called out, her voice laced with sleep and with the sound of the bed creaking from her movement and the words he wanted to say to Lindsey, faded away. "Where are you? Babe, are you alright?"
Lindsey stiffened in his arms, pulling back and offering him a dark, narrowed glare. "Answer her, Babe. Tell your precious love that everything is just fine."
"But it's not fine, is it?" He whispered, shaking his head, his gaze shifting from the woman before him to the empty hallway, waiting for those familiar blonde curls to appear. "Just give me a minute and I'll tell her to go and we can talk. Just don't…"
"Don't bother. There's nothing left to talk about, Luke." She said, giving him a half smile before turning and walking toward the front door. "I'll get my things later."
"Lindsey." He called out, "I never meant to hurt you."
"Maybe so but you did."
The door clicked shut behind her as he watched her go, wishing he knew what to say to make her stay so he could explain, to give him the chance to make it better.
To make it right.
But there was no making it right, he knew that. He crossed the line the moment his lips touched Peyton's in her office and he knew from that moment there was no turning back.
Not from Peyton. Never from Peyton.
No matter how hard he tried.
"Luke?" Peyton called out, her voice closer and he knew when he turned around, he'd find her standing in the doorway of his bedroom. "Are you okay?"
He turned, a faint smile on his lips, catching the apology in her eyes. "Yeah, I'm fine. I just dropped the glass of water you wanted. That's all."
"We all make mistakes," She whispered softly, walking barefoot across the floor and stopping directly in from him before leaning forward slightly, her lips brushing against his cheek, letting him know she wasn't just talking about the shattered glass at their feet.
When she stepped back, he couldn't help but smile at the look in her eyes. He chuckled slightly when her brow furrowed at his action.
"What?" She asked softly, reaching out and pulling him closer to her, her arms wrapping tightly around his waist, holding him close.
"That look in your eyes," He whispered softly, his hands lifting to cradle her face in his hands. The pad of his thumbs gently caressing her cheeks. "I haven't seen it in awhile."
Her emerald eyes fluttered shut at his words, only to open a moment later, glistening with tears and a smile that had him leaning forward and capturing her lips with his and the thought that he loved her and she was all he ever really needed.
~fin