Lyra slipped out of the cab and walked quickly through the hospital doors, her mind set on reaching her office.
She wasn't in the mood to do any work and simply stayed in her office, letting the silence settle around her until late at night.
She would only go home when her grandmother was asleep, and the maids had all gone home.
But as the minutes passed, her mind refused to rest. A small, wicked voice seemed to whisper in her ear—almost like a tiny devil lounging on her shoulder, poking at her doubts about Lucas. The way he had pointed out her faults, the way he had shouted at her.
Ah, it was all such a mess. She couldn't even think clearly now, couldn't tell who was right or wrong anymore.
Perhaps it had been her fault too—she hated to admit it, but even though her heart still ached, this wasn't the time to think about herself.
Staring at the phone, Lyra dialed. She needed to clear the air once and for all before the wedding. Hopefully, things could start to get better if she apologized.
But after three tries, she slumped back in her chair, defeated. A small, self-mocking laugh escaped her lips. "Of course," she muttered under her breath.
"Why did I think he'd pick up? Silly me, hoping for logic in a man's world."
Every time they fought, Lucas punished her with silence for at least three days. Her messages went unanswered, her calls ignored, only returning when it suited him—as if nothing had ever happened.
But the next morning, she woke early, dabbed on concealer, hiding the puffiness around her eyes and dragged herself to the Arden Group Business Tower.
The moment she entered the building, security guards straightened and bowed in greeting, while a woman at the front desk immediately rose from her seat. "Good morning, madam."
Everyone in the building recognized her—Lyra Ashford, the CEO's fiancée.
Lyra returned a brief nod, though the address still felt foreign despite hearing it countless times.
"Mr. Arden left a short while ago," the receptionist informed her smoothly. "He's attending a meeting at another branch."
"In this early morning?" Lyra asked. She had arrived early, but Lucas had gotten there even earlier.
Wow, her husband-to-be really was a workaholic. But no matter—she couldn't let herself get discouraged.
Lyra had left him a message saying she would wait for him at his office. But after three hours without a single reply, she finally gave up and headed to the hospital, almost cried.
As she arrived, a few eyebrows were raised. Everyone knew her wedding leave was supposed to start today. But she only smiled, pretending nothing was wrong, and walked toward her office.
Still hoping she might catch him after office hours—though at this rate, she was starting to think Lucas had a secret talent for avoiding her.
By the time the sun slipped behind the city skyline, casting long shadows across the office, Lyra was still at her desk, scrolling through her phone for the hundredth time.
She leaned back in her chair, ready to shove her phone into her pocket, when it suddenly buzzed. An unfamiliar number glowed on the screen, and with a quick breath, she tapped to answer.
A deep voice came through the line. "Lyra, it's me."
"Lucas? Whose number is this?" Lyra felt both strange and worried at the same time.
"This is just my temporary number," he said, but didn't explain much.
"Why are you using a temporary number? Where's your phone?"
There were so many things she wanted to ask. She'd been messaging and calling him, yet he hadn't received any of it?
She sighed. "I thought you were avoiding me. Where are you? I'll come to you," she added.
Lucas fell silent. It was true, he had been avoiding her since last night. But now, he had to tell her.
"Baby, something's come up. I can't meet you," he said.
"Why?" Lyra's voice dropped. She sensed something unpleasant stirring in her chest.
"I've just arrived at the branch office in the US. Tomorrow's crucial. The investors are on edge, and I can't risk losing them," Lucas said, his tone clipped.
"US?" Did she hear him right? The US was so far from Mistvale City—thousand miles away.
Her fingers tightened around her dress as she asked, "When will you come back?"
"Um…" Lucas made a small sound, thinking. "Maybe the day after tomorrow," he said, his voice calm, like he was discussing a minor household chore.
"But tomorrow is our wedding, darling," Lyra reminded him, just in case he had somehow forgotten the most important day of their lives.
"Yeah, that's why I called you," he said. "It's hard for me to make this decision, but I have to."
At this point, Lyra had an ounce of spirit in her when she asked, "And what have you decided?"
"Listen… the wedding can wait. Don't worry—I'll handle it," he said, as though postponing their wedding was a small matter to him. But what about her? had he ever asked for her consent?
For a moment, silence filled the line.
"Are you still there?" He checked—the line was still connected.
"Yes, still here."
Lyra took a deep breath, sorting through her thoughts, and exhaled slowly.
"Lucas," she began, her tone steady but carrying a quiet intensity, "I need a break."
"Um? Okay, just rest, baby. I'll handle the new date—"
"We can't keep pretending things are fine," she cut in, her voice trembling slightly.
"I'm ending this—for both our sakes."
For a second, there was silence. Then Lyra heard Lucas chuckle on the other end of the line.
"Hell no, baby," he said softly, almost amused. "You can't break up with me."
"Why not?" Lyra asked, but he turned the question back on her.
"Seriously? Do you not love me anymore, Lyra?" His voice cracked with disbelief.
This time, her eyes welled up before she could stop them. "I still love you," she choked out, her voice trembling, "but I can't keep hurting like this."
Lucas exhaled slowly. "Just rest, baby," he said. "We'll postpone the wedding, like I said, and talk about it when I come back."
"No. This relationship is finished," she said firmly—but Lucas ended the call abruptly, unwilling to hear another word.