Chapter 17
Lucas was seething. The anger boiling in his chest had nowhere to go and it only grew tighter with every second.
But lashing out at me wasn’t an option. Not now. Not when his father had collapsed in front of him, barely conscious on the pavement.
He didn’t have time to dwell on his rage toward me.
First, he had to get Ryan up. Then, find somewhere for them to stay.
The moment the thought of housing crossed his mind, Lucas knew exactly who to call.
He dialed with shaking fingers.
The call barely rang once before Madeline picked up.
But before she could even say Hello, Lucas launched into a barrage of demands.
“Mom, Dad and I need to move in with you. Can you tidy up the place and get two rooms ready? I’d really prefer one with a lot of sunlight. And if your apartment’s too small, that’s fine–Dad car bunk with you.”
He said it like it was nothing. Like it was his right.
The smile on Madeline’s face stiffened.
In all her years of chasing “freedom,” she’d never gotten around to buying a house.
Her salary had barely kept up with her expenses and maintaining her looks? That wasn’t cheap. Neither was
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the spontaneous lifestyle she adored–quitting jobs when she wasn’t granted enough vacation, changing cities on a whim.
She was living in a modest one–bedroom rental, scraping by.
That was why she’d come crawling back into Lucas’s
life to begin with. She had hoped to secure comfortable retirement on the back of the son she once abandoned.
But now?
Before she could get a taste of the good life, Lucas was already dragging his wreckage to her door.
Madeline forced a thin smile. “Oh, sweetheart, of course I’m happy to have you both,” she said voice dripping in feigned warmth.
“But my place, well… it’s nothing like your cottage. It’s small and I worry it might not be comfortable for you.”
Her tone was polite, but the message was clear: Don’t
come.
Lucas, however, didn’t get the hint. With everything that had happened in the last forty–eight hours. his ears were ringing too loud to catch subtleties.
The moment she brought up the cottage, he exploded with frustration.
“You have no idea how heartless Elise is. She sold the damn place! We’re homeless now, Mom. Homeless. I confronted her, asked why she’d do something so cruel. And she just shrugged and said it was her dowry–like that gives her the right! She’s spent thousands of Dad’s money over the years and now she thinks she can just walk away like nothing happened?”
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He went on and on, ranting like a madman about how unfair I’d been.
Madeline, on the other end, grew visibly irritated.
She’d only meant to let him vent for a bit before giving him a polite no.
But then Ryan took the phone.
“Madeline,” he said gently, “let us stay for a little while. Just until I find another place. It won’t be long.”
Ryan knew her well. He understood exactly how to phrase things–knew she needed that reassurance before she’d
agree.
Sure enough, after a pause, Madeline relented.
And just like that, the fallen Caldwell men packed what little they had left and moved into her cramped apartment.
Later that evening, after they’d settled in, Lucas came up with an idea.
He suggested taking a photo–him, Madeline and Ryan, posed like one big happy family. Neither of them questioned it, even if they didn’t fully understand what he was planning.
In a different city far away, I opened my phone and saw it.
Lucas had posted the photo on social media. Madeline and Ryan, sitting side by side, leaning into each other with weary expressions that tried to pass for grace. Their clothes looked expensive. Their posture refined,
And the caption? It was revolting.
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My father and mother, together for forty beautiful years. Never a fight, never a doubt. A love to aspire to. If only my fiancée hadn’t misunderstood me over something so small.]
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