He looked older. More gray in his hair, deeper lines around his eyes, but still solid, still Richard Hayes. Glad you made it safely. Richard gestured to the woman. This is Eleanor Hale, an old friend.
Eleanor, my son Lucas. Eleanor smiled. It's wonderful to finally meet you. Richard's told me so much. Lucas returned the smile automatically, but something cold settled in his chest.
Hale. That name. He knew that name. And this is my daughter, Victoria. She stepped out from the hallway behind him.
Lucas's entire world stopped. "Mom." Victoria Hale stood 3 ft away holding a wine glass, wearing jeans and a cream sweater that probably cost more than his car. Her hair was shorter than he remembered, just past her shoulders now, but everything else was exactly the same. The dark eyes that had always seen through him, the way she held herself, like she owned every room she walked into.
She looked at him for precisely 2 seconds, her expression unreadable, then looked away. Victoria. Eleanor's voice had an edge Lucas didn't understand. Say hello. Hello.
Victoria's tone was flat, professional, the voice she'd use with a stranger. Lucas felt something crack in his chest. Hi. That was it. One word.
Seven years of silence and all he could manage was hi. Richard was still talking. Eleanor and I went to college together decades ago. Lost touch for years, but we reconnected recently. Turns out we've been living 2 hours apart all this time and never knew it.
He laughed. Small world. Very small, Lucas said. His voice sounded far away. We thought it would be nice to spend the holidays together.
Combine families. Richard smiled at Eleanor. She smiled back. Oh. Oh.
Lucas understood now. The reunion, the cabin, his mother's insistence that he come. This wasn't just a family gathering. This was an introduction, a prelude. His parents were together with Victoria's mother.
The floor tilted slightly beneath him. Lucas? Richard frowned. You all right? Yeah, fine.
Just long drive. He forced himself to focus. Where's everyone sleeping? Ah. Richard exchanged a glance with Eleanor.
That's the one complication. The cabin's only got four bedrooms. Your mother and I are in the master. Eleanor's in the guest room downstairs. Mia's set up in the loft with some books and games.
She seemed excited about having her own space. Okay? Lucas waited. Which leaves the upstairs bedroom for you and Victoria. The words hung in the air like smoke.
"There's only one bed," Eleanor added quickly, but it's a king. Plenty of room. And honestly, with the storm, we didn't think It's fine. Victoria cut her off. She still wasn't looking at Lucas.
We're adults. We can handle sharing a room for two nights. No. No, they absolutely could not. But Lucas couldn't say that.
Couldn't explain why. Not without unraveling 7 years of carefully constructed lies. So, he nodded. Sure. Not a problem.
Victoria finally looked at him then. Just a glance, quick and sharp. He saw something flicker in her eyes, anger maybe, or pain. Then it was gone. I'm going to check on dinner.
Margaret appeared from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. Lucas, why don't you get settled? Your room's at the top of the stairs, second door on the right. Thanks, Mom. He walked away before anyone could say anything else.
The bedroom was nice, tastefully decorated in shades of gray and white with a view of the mountains that would probably be stunning if it wasn't currently a wall of snow. A king bed dominated the space covered in thick blankets and too many pillows. One bed. Lucas sat down on the edge and put his head in his hands. This was a nightmare.
An actual waking nightmare. Seven years ago he'd walked away from Victoria Hale because their parents were getting close, because staying together would have hurt the two people they both loved most. It had been the hardest decision of his life. And the right one. At least that's what he'd told himself every day since.
And now here they were, thrown back together by the exact relationship they'd sacrificed everything to protect. The irony was almost funny. Almost. The door opened. Lucas looked up.
Victoria stepped inside and closed it behind her. She stood there, arms crossed, expression carefully neutral. We should talk, she said. Yeah. She crossed to the window, putting distance between them.
I didn't know you'd be here. Same. My mother said it was a small family thing. She didn't mention Victoria stopped, started again. I wouldn't have come if I'd known.
That hurt more than it should have. Right. This doesn't have to be complicated, Lucas. We stay out of each other's way. Be polite in front of them.
Two days and we never have to see each other again. Sounds like a plan. She turned to face him. I'm serious. So am I. They stared at each other.
The silence stretched thick and heavy with all the things neither of them were saying. Victoria broke first. I'll take the left side of the bed. You take the right. We don't talk about the past.
We don't Her voice caught. She covered it quickly. We just get through this. Okay. Okay.
She walked past him toward the door, close enough that he caught her scent. Something light and expensive. Not the same perfume she'd worn before. That was good. If it had been the same.
Dinner's in an hour, Victoria said without looking back. Try to look like you don't hate being here. Then she was gone. Lucas sat alone in the room and wondered how he was supposed to survive two days of this without losing his mind. Dinner was exactly as awkward as he'd feared.
They sat around a long wooden table, Richard and Margaret at the head, Eleanor and Victoria on one side, Lucas and Mia on the other. The food was excellent. His mother had outdone herself with roasted chicken, garlic potatoes, glazed vegetables, but Lucas barely tasted any of it. So, Victoria, Richard said cutting into his chicken, your mother tells me you're doing quite well for yourself. Victoria smiled politely.