Page 140 of Love Unspoken

I got out of the car, the gravel crunching under my shoes as I walked to the front door of the Bellamy mansion. The entrance was grand—white columns, a massive wooden door with intricate carvings, and an antique brass knocker that belonged to a monastery in Italy, which cost more than most people's entire homes.

A butler opened the door; obviously having been alerted by the security cameras that I was pondering my life in the driveway.

"Mr. Covington," he greeted me with a nod. "Miss Bellamy is waiting for you in the garden room."

"Thanks, Oliver."

The butler closed the door behind me with a soft click, leaving me to navigate the familiar halls on my own.

I'd been here more times than I could count, yet I'd never noticed how cold this place felt compared to Amara's little cottage, where she'd hosted her friends. Her home was warm and cozy, filled with love and life, without an interior designer in sight. Maybe that was why I couldn't bring myself to sell the townhouse—or even move out of it—despite the guilt I felt being there without Amara. She had turned that space into a home, and the few months we'd lived there had been…amazing.

Why the fuck had I given that up?

In contrast, Kath's parents' house was immaculate and opulent, a gilded cage, a place where everything was too polished, too perfect. And I was here to break something that had been fraying at the edges for far too long.

The garden room was extravagant—floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking perfectly manicured gardens, antique furniture that looked more like it belonged in a museum than a living room, and a chandelier that sparkled like a million tiny diamonds.

Kath sat on one of the velvet sofas, her posture perfect, her expression carefully composed. She looked expectant. Hopeful, even. If I had to take a guess, it was because she thought I was here to lay claim to her, which meant my mother hadn't called to warn her.

"Lucas." She rushed to me and hugged me. "I'm so glad you're here."

I pulled away from her, my throat tightening as I crossed the room to get some distance from her.

"What's wrong?" She followed me and took my hand, leading me to the couch where she'd been sitting like she was on the cover of Architecture Digest magazine.

"We need to have a conversation."

She frowned slightly, but her tone was saccharine sweet. "Of course. But before we do, can I just say how happy I am that you're here? I know things have been difficult, but we've always managed to find our way back to each other, haven't we?"

I clenched my jaw. She took my hand in hers but I pulled away.

"Let's sit."

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to keep calm. "What I need to say isn't going to take that long."

"Lucas, come on⁠—"

"Enough!" I was sick and tired of this woman, of my mother, of everyone who was supposed to care about me but refused to really hear me. "I told you I needed time to think about us getting back together, getting to know one another as we are today."

She nodded eagerly, smiling brightly.

"I've thought about this long and hard, Kath. The people we are today aren't right for each other. We're different and older, and I'm really sorry, but I don't want to explore a relationship with you beyond what we have today."

Her eyes widened, the first crack in her carefully constructed mask. "What does that mean?"

"I'm saying that we're going to remain what we have been to each other for the past five years, friends and colleagues." I cared for Kath, and I didn't want to hurt her, but saying this to her wasn't crushing my soul as it had when Amara and I had talked. That should've told me something, but I had been too dense.

"What?" she screeched.

"Kath, we've been holding onto a memory, feelings that don't exist anymore. I realize that I've been bound by obligation and a misguided sense of loyalty to the past. That's not fair to you. And it's sure as hell not fair to me."

Her expression hardened, the hope in her eyes replaced by a coldness that sent a chill down my spine. "You're ending us? Just like that?"

"Not just like that." I shook my head wearily. "And, I'm not ending anything as we never started—you know that as well as I do. We've been trying to force a relationship that's no longer there, and it's only making us both miserable."

Kath stepped closer. "I'm not miserable. I love you. So much. Can't you see that?"

"If you loved me, you wouldn't have left me," I told her. "But, honestly, Kath, I'm glad you did; otherwise, we'd have ended up together, and that would have fucked both our lives up."