Chapter 60
Lucian groaned as he stretched, slowly shaking off the lingering drowsiness of a deep sleep. The previous night had been filled with laughter and energy, an unguarded celebration between him, Garry, and Jimmy. It felt surreal, almost like those fleeting moments in a past life where he wasn’t weighed down by burdens. He yawned again, savoring the rare sense of peace that wrapped around him.
“Finally,” he murmured, still lying on the bed. “Feels like I actually got some rest. Maybe… maybe things are really looking up,” he muttered, a quiet hope threading through his voice. The shadows of yesterday, all those wounds and mistakes, felt like they were finally easing. Maybe this was what moving on felt like.
Still in his half-asleep daze, Lucian slowly sat up, feeling an odd prickle on the back of his neck. The feeling was subtle but unmistakable the sensation of someone watching him. Turning his head, his eyes landed on an unexpected sight: his older sister, Rose.
Seated in a chair by the side of his bed, Rose Kane appeared perfectly composed, her figure encased in a sleek, dark trouser suit. Her posture was effortless, as if she’d been there for some time. One hand held a steaming cup of coffee, and her gaze was fixed on him with an intensity he wasn’t used to seeing. There was something in her eyes, something quietly unguarded and thoughtful.
For a moment, Lucian wondered if he was still dreaming.
“Good morning, Lucy,” she greeted him softly. Her voice was low and warm, carrying a weight of emotions hidden just beneath the surface, ones he couldn’t easily decipher.
He blinked, letting his vision clear as he took her in, struggling to understand this strange moment. Rose never spent much time around him. Their relationship had always been… complicated. She’d kept her distance for years, going as far as studying abroad to avoid staying under the same roof. He’d accepted that distance, convinced himself he didn’t need her approval or her company.
So what was she doing here, sitting at his bedside, watching him as he slept?
Still puzzled, Lucian glanced around his room, making sure he wasn’t confused. The familiar sight of his belongings reassured him he was definitely in his own room. And yet, it felt strangely different with her here, like her presence had shifted something subtle in the air.
“Oh… uh, good morning,” he replied, finally breaking the silence. His words were hesitant, his confusion obvious. It had been a long time since he’d felt this unsure around someone in his own home.
“Mom mentioned you were coming back,” he added, piecing things together as his brain caught up. “But… I didn’t expect you here. In my room,” he finished, his tone guarded but without hostility, more an honest curiosity.
Rose gave a faint smile, her expression both distant and oddly soft. Her fingers tightened around the coffee cup, a slight tremor in her otherwise controlled movements. She seemed to study him for a moment longer, her gaze dipping, lingering as if weighing some invisible choice.
“How have you been?” she finally asked, her voice almost too gentle, like she was afraid of his answer. It was such a simple question, but coming from her, it hit him harder than he’d expected. A question he’d once longed to hear from her, back when he was just a kid craving his older sister’s approval.
Lucian paused, feeling his sister’s question cut through the silence like a whisper he’d been waiting to hear all his life. He opened his mouth, only to close it again, words escaping him. For a moment, he felt the weight of unspoken years pressing down on him the long silences, the memories of glances she had once turned away, the invisible walls they had carefully built between them.
He hadn’t realized how high those walls had grown until now, but somehow, in this quiet, he could feel them wavering.
He offered a soft smile, faint and broken at the edges. “Well,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, “I made a lot of mistakes… had a lot of wrong expectations from… the wrong people.” His eyes seemed empty, his expression calm, but the sadness in his smile told another story a story of trust given and betrayed, of a heart wounded and too tired to hope for healing.
His gaze lingered on the floor as if he could find some comfort there.
A look of understanding flashed across Rose’s face as she took in his words. She watched the way he spoke, the way his shoulders seemed to carry a silent weight, the way his smile hinted at battles fought and lost. He looked like a warrior who hadn’t been defeated by any enemy, but by the invisible scars of his own heart.
She understood exactly what he meant when he said “wrong people” and the thought stung. She knew, deep down, she was among them. His words felt like a silent reproach, a painful reminder of her own failure, and it was as if she could feel every bit of his quiet disappointment settling over her like an ache she’d been ignoring for far too long.
Rose swallowed and closed her eyes, the sting of guilt rising. She was strong, proud, always distant but Lucian’s pain seemed to chip away at that unyielding exterior. The word “wrong” lingered in her mind like an accusation. She had spent years looking at him through a distorted lens, assuming he was fine, convincing herself she didn’t need to be close.
But now, his words weighed on her heart as heavily as her regrets. She felt her chest tighten, a pang she couldn’t ignore, like a slap that left her reeling.
Opening her eyes, Rose looked at her brother again. This time, her gaze softened, and though her face remained mostly unreadable, there was a glimmer in her eyes, a quiet ache that she couldn’t hide. She cleared her throat gently, regaining her composure, and then spoke, her tone low and filled with a tenderness she had never dared show before.
“You’ve grown up a lot, Lucy,” she said, her voice both proud and sorrowful. “You’ve changed… in ways I didn’t see coming You’ve become quite mature.” Her fingers tightened around the cup she was holding as she lifted it, trying to maintain her calm exterior. But her words betrayed her, exposing a crack in her usual control.
Lucian glanced over at her, a flicker of sadness passing through his eyes. “some people made me grow up,” he replied simply, his voice gentle, almost resigned. He turned his head to look out the window, a shadowed smile playing at his lips. His words were unassuming, yet they carried a depth and weight that lingered, revealing a well of emotions that most would never understand. Experience more content on NovelBin.Côm
Rose’s hand froze midair, her coffee cup trembling slightly. Her heart thudded painfully, the sadness in his words cutting through her like a blade. She lowered the cup, placing it in her lap, her fingers clasping around it as if for support. She felt as if her usually calm, strong demeanor was nothing but a mask, one she could barely keep up in the face of her own guilt.
It was as though, in this one sentence, he had peeled back a layer of her soul, revealing all the things she had worked so hard to bury.
She lowered her gaze, studying her own reflection in the cup, unable to meet his eyes. For so long, she had been the composed, untouchable one, the one who never allowed her emotions to show. She had worn her strength like armor, keeping her vulnerability well-hidden.
But now, as she sat across from him, the unspoken tension between them began to unravel, and she could feel her walls crumbling in a way that was both terrifying and liberating.
They sat in silence, yet the air was thick with words that could not be spoken, regrets that could never be fully expressed. She looked at Lucian, seeing him for the first time not as the boy she had distanced herself from, but as a person someone who had been bruised and broken by the very people who should have loved him the most.
She saw the strength in his sadness, the resilience that had come at a terrible cost. And it tore her apart to realize she had been part of the pain that had shaped him.
Guilt gnawed at her, and the calm facade she had so carefully cultivated felt like a mockery of her true feelings. In that moment, she felt as if she had failed not only him but herself as well. She wanted to reach out, to tell him that she understood, that she was sorry for all the years she had spent looking past him. But the words caught in her throat, trapped by the weight of her own remorse.
Rose glanced down, trying to compose herself, but her thoughts betrayed her, bringing memories she had long buried. She remembered how she had always stayed away, how she had looked at him with indifference, how she had convinced herself that he didn’t matter. She had been wrong so terribly wrong and it hurt more than she could bear.
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