A little rest

Monalisa tries to defend herself, "Lucas, I was going to make dinner...I texted and got no reply so I decided to have a little rest..." But Lucas cut her off, his voice rising in anger. "A little rest? You've been resting all day! And what about me? Don't I deserve a hot meal after a long day's work?"

Monalisa felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes, her heart heavy with the weight of Lucas's disappointment and anger. She knew she had to try harder, to be better, but in that moment, all she could do was face the wrath of her husband's displeasure as his movements was fueled by frustration and anger. He reaches for his shirt, unbuttons it, and discards it on the floor. His shoes follow, kicked off with a flick of his feet. Finally, he removes his wristwatch, the one Monalisa had given him on their anniversary, and places it on the counter before striding into the bathroom, he stands before the mirror, his eyes lock onto his reflection. He sees the tension etched on his face, the furrowed brows, and the clenched jaw. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm the storm within.

With a quiet murmur, he turns away from the mirror and steps into the shower, letting the warm water wash away the tension. As the water cascades down his body, Lucas closes his eyes, allowing the warmth to seep into his muscles.

For a moment, he forgets about the argument, the words, and the weight of his own anger. He simply stands, letting the water soothe his frazzled nerves.

But as the water begins to cool, Lucas's thoughts return, and with them, the ache in his heart. He knows he can't stay in the shower forever, avoiding the issues that need to be faced. With a heavy sigh, he turns off the water and steps out.

Lucas opens the wardrobe door, revealing a row of neatly hung clothes. He scans the options, his fingers trailing over the fabrics, searching for the perfect ensemble. He settles on a pair of faded jeans, a white graphic t-shirt, and a black leather jacket. A casual look, a departure from his usual polished style as he slips on jeans, the worn denim feeling comfortable against his skin. The t-shirt follows, its softness a gentle caress. Finally, he shrugs on the leather jacket, its supple leather creaking as he moves.

Lucas begins to dress, he feels a transformation taking place. The tension in his shoulders eases, his movements becoming more relaxed. He runs a hand through his damp hair, tousling it into a messy, laid-back look, with a final glance in the mirror, He takes a deep breath, feeling a sense of liberation wash over him Lucas heads out of the bedroom leaving Monalisa in the room as he slammed the door behind him, the sound echoing through the silent neighborhood. He stormed down the driveway, his anger and frustration propelling him towards his car.

He yanked open the door, and slid in behind the wheel. The engine roared to life as he jammed the key into the ignition as he pulled out of the driveway, Lucas dialed steve's number, one that would offer him a sympathetic ear and a cold beer. "Hey, Steve. Meet me at Jerry's Bar. I need a drink, or three."

Steve's voice on the other end was laced with concern, but Lucas just growled, "Just be there, Steve. I'll fill you in when I see you."

Lucas peeled out of the neighborhood, leaving Monalisa and their argument behind. The bar was his destination, and he couldn't get there fast enough. He sped down the highway, the wind whipping through his hair, Lucas felt a sense of freedom wash over him.

Lucas gets to locklane street, pulls into the parking lot, his tires crunching on the gravel. He scans the area, his eyes searching for a familiar sight - Steve's car. But as he looks around, he realizes it's nowhere to be found, he parks his own car and gets out, his eyes scanning the parking lot again, hoping he might have missed it. But Steve's car is nowhere to be seen.

Lucas's mind races as he tries to think of where Steve might be. He called him some minutes ago and Steve had promised to be here. Lucas checks his phone for what feels like the hundredth time, but there are no missed calls or texts from Steve, he walks around the parking lot, his footsteps echoing off the empty spaces. It's a strange feeling, being here without Steve. They always meet up here almost everyday before he got married, and Steve's car is always parked in its usual spot.

Feeling a pang of concern. Where is Steve? so he leans against his car, his eyes fixed on the screen as he dials Steve's number for what feels like the hundredth time. It rings once, twice, three times, and then goes to voicemail. Lucas curses under his breath and tries again.

On the fifth attempt, just as he's about to give up, Steve finally answers.

"Steve, where the hell are you?" Lucas demands, his frustration boiling over.

Steve's voice is laced with unseriousness as he replies " hey Lucas see you soon okay" and with that the call ends.

Taking a deep breath, his mind still replaying the frustrating conversation with Steve. Lucas opens the door and steps out, his eyes fixed on the car as he reaches back in to grab his wallet. He pockets it and then double-checks to make sure the door is properly locked, a habit he's developed over the years for his own safety. Been satisfied that everything is secure, Lucas turns towards the bar, his eyes fixed on the sign that reads "The Red Door". He takes a deep breath, feeling a mix of anticipation and frustration as he heads towards the entrance.

Lucas approaches the entrance, a large wooden door with a heavy-looking iron handle, reaches out and pulls it open.