A life spared for a simple bowl of tacos seemed a fair exchange.
As I slipped into my coat, ready to step out, Lucian's hand caught my arm, a rare uncertainty clouding his voice.
“Maybe… maybe this can wait till morning?” he ventured, his words trailing off, almost pleading.
I gently cut him off, my voice calm but insistent, “Besides tacos, is there anything else she’s craving?”
For a brief moment, he stood in silence, then released my arm, his gaze softening. “No, that’s it.”
At the break of dawn, he appeared at my door, holding a thermos filled with food.
“Savannah, I’ll be going abroad next week. I plan to take some time this Saturday to have dinner with your parents and talk about our wedding…”
Before he could complete his thought, I interjected, “That’s not necessary.”
Lucian's expression shifted to one of surprise. “What do you mean?”
“They’re on a trip and won’t be back anytime soon," I lied with a smile.
He looked at me, his eyes searching for an answer, but just then, his phone rang, and he quickly shut the door.
On Friday, my last day at work, I had just stepped out of the building when Lucian abruptly yanked me into his car wordlessly.