Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The strong hand pulled Amelia back over the railing. Her body crashed against the wet concrete of the bridge, lungs fighting for air. Rain pounded against her face as she lay there, caught between gratitude and fury that someone had stopped her fall.

"Amelia? My God, is that you?"

The voice cut through the storm, familiar yet impossible. She blinked through the rain, trying to focus on the man kneeling beside her.

"Amelia Carter. It is you."

She squinted, her vision clearing enough to see his face. Recognition hit her like a physical blow.

"Lucas?" Her voice cracked, barely audible over the rain.

Lucas County. Her childhood friend. The boy next door who had taught her to ride a bike, who had shared his lunch when bullies stole hers, who had been there through every skinned knee and teenage heartbreak until college pulled them in different directions.

Lucas, who she hadn't seen in twenty-two years.

"What are you doing here?" she whispered.

He helped her to a sitting position, his hand steady on her back. "I was driving by. Saw someone at the railing." His eyes, still the same deep brown she remembered, studied her face. "What happened, Amelia?"

The kindness in his voice broke something inside her. Fresh tears mixed with the rain on her cheeks.

"Everything," she said. "Everything happened."

Lucas removed his coat, wrapping it around her shivering shoulders. The expensive fabric felt heavy, warm despite the rain soaking through it.

"Come on," he said gently. "Let's get you somewhere dry."

She didn't resist as he helped her stand, her legs wobbly beneath her. A sleek black car waited nearby, engine running, headlights cutting through the rain.

"Is that yours?" she asked.

Lucas nodded, guiding her toward it. "My driver was circling while I walked back to look for my phone. I think I dropped it earlier." His arm remained firm around her waist, keeping her steady. "Good thing I did."

The car door opened as they approached. A uniformed driver stood waiting, face carefully blank as he took in Amelia's drenched appearance.

"Home, sir?" he asked.

"Yes, James. And turn the heat up, please."

The interior of the car was warm, the leather seats soft beneath her. Lucas sat beside her, close but not touching, giving her space while remaining near enough to catch her if she fell again.

They drove in silence for several minutes. Amelia stared out the window, watching the city lights blur together. Her mind felt empty, too exhausted to process the bizarre twist that had brought her childhood friend back into her life on this of all nights.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Lucas asked finally.

She turned to look at him properly for the first time. The years had been kind to him. His face had matured, lines around his eyes suggesting both laughter and stress, but his features remained handsome. His hair, once unruly brown curls, was now short, neatly styled. His clothes, what she could see beneath the rainwater, spoke of wealth and taste.

"My husband left me," she said, the words like glass in her throat. "Tonight. At our anniversary dinner. For his secretary."

Lucas's expression darkened. "Richard, right? The business student?"

She nodded, surprised he remembered. "Twenty years of marriage. Three children. And he told me my things were packed and the house belongs to his girlfriend now."

Each word made the reality sink deeper. Fresh pain bloomed in her chest.

"Jesus, Amelia." His hand found hers, warm against her cold fingers. "I'm so sorry."

The simple kindness nearly undid her. "My children knew." Her voice broke. "They knew and they chose him. They helped him."

Lucas's grip tightened. He didn't offer empty platitudes or worthless advice. He simply held her hand as the tears came again, quieter this time, the storm inside her temporarily spent.

The car slowed, turning through a set of massive iron gates. Amelia looked up, gasping softly as a sprawling mansion came into view, illuminated by tasteful landscape lighting despite the late hour.

"This is yours?" she asked.

Lucas nodded, a hint of self-consciousness in his smile. "Home sweet home."

The car stopped at the front entrance. James opened the door, holding an umbrella over them as they stepped out. The rain had lessened to a gentle drizzle, but Amelia was already soaked to the bone.

The front door opened as they approached, a middle-aged woman in simple but elegant clothes waiting inside.

"Mrs. Parker, could you please prepare the east guest suite?" Lucas asked. "And perhaps find some dry clothes?"

"Of course, Mr. County." The woman's eyes lingered curiously on Amelia before she hurried off.

The foyer was breathtaking, marble floors, a sweeping staircase, crystal chandelier casting warm light over everything. Amelia stood dripping on the expensive floor, feeling small and out of place.

"Come on," Lucas said, his hand gentle on her elbow. "Let's get you warmed up."

He led her through the house to a study. A fire burned in a stone fireplace, casting dancing shadows on the wood-paneled walls. Bookshelves reached from floor to ceiling, filled with leather-bound volumes. A large desk dominated one end of the room, while comfortable leather chairs clustered near the fire.

"Sit," he said, guiding her to the chair closest to the flames. "I'll get you something to drink."

Amelia sank into the chair, her body aching with cold and emotional exhaustion. She watched as Lucas moved to a sideboard, pouring amber liquid into two crystal glasses.

"Here," he said, handing her one. "Whiskey. Best medicine for a night like this."

She took a small sip, the liquor burning a path down her throat, spreading warmth through her chest. "Thank you."

Lucas sat in the chair opposite, studying her over the rim of his glass. "When did we last see each other, Amelia? Your wedding?"

"No." She shook her head. "You couldn't make it, remember? Something about a startup in California."

"That's right." He nodded slowly. "Must have been that summer after college, then. When you came home to visit your parents."

"Twenty-two years ago." The realization hung between them, a measure of all the life lived in between.

Lucas leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "And now here we are."

"Here we are," she echoed, glancing around the opulent room. "Though it seems you've done quite well for yourself."

A small, almost embarrassed smile crossed his face. "That startup in California? Turned out better than expected."

"Clearly." She managed a weak smile in return. "What exactly do you do, Lucas?"

"A bit of everything these days." He swirled the whiskey in his glass. "Started with tech, software for financial systems. Built that up, sold it, used the money to diversify. Energy, real estate, communications."

"You're being modest," she said, recognizing the careful way he downplayed his success.

His smile widened slightly. "If you must know, County Global is now the first-largest private corporation in the world."

Amelia nearly choked on her whiskey. "You're that Lucas County? The Lucas County? The one they call the 'Shadow King' because you own half the world but nobody ever sees you?"

He winced. "I hate that nickname. But yes, guilty as charged." His eyes met hers, suddenly serious. "Fortune magazine might call me the richest man in the world, but I'm still just Lucas. The kid who ate lunch with you under the oak tree and helped you pass algebra."

Before she could respond, Mrs. Parker returned, a folded stack of clothes in her arms.

"These should fit," she said, setting them on a side table. "The guest suite is ready whenever you'd like to rest, Miss..."

"Carter," Amelia supplied automatically, then flinched. Soon that wouldn't be her name anymore. "Amelia."

"Thank you, Mrs. Parker," Lucas said. "That will be all for tonight."

The woman nodded and left, closing the door softly behind her.

"You should change," Lucas said. "You'll catch pneumonia in those wet clothes."

Amelia looked down at herself, suddenly aware of how she must appear, hair plastered to her head, makeup streaked down her cheeks, dress clinging to her like a second skin. "Where can I...?"

"Through there." He pointed to a door at the far end of the study. "Private bathroom."

She took the clothes and slipped into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. The room was larger than her bedroom at, no, not her bedroom anymore. The bedroom that had been hers until tonight.

The thought sent a fresh wave of pain through her chest.

She peeled off her wet clothes, letting them fall in a soggy heap on the marble floor. The mirror above the sink reflected a stranger, a middle-aged woman with hollow eyes and lines of grief etched into her face. This broken creature couldn't be Amelia Carter, the woman who had spent twenty years perfecting the role of wife and mother.

But then, she wasn't Amelia Carter anymore, was she?

The clothes Mrs. Parker had provided fit reasonably well, soft gray lounge pants and a blue cashmere sweater. Simple, expensive, comfortable. Amelia dried her hair with a towel and washed her face, erasing the last traces of the makeup she had applied so carefully for the anniversary dinner that now felt like it had happened in another lifetime.

When she returned to the study, Lucas was staring into the fire, his expression distant. He looked up as she entered, a small smile warming his features.

"Better?" he asked.

"Warmer, at least." She returned to her chair, picking up the whiskey glass again. "Lucas, I don't know how to thank you."

"For what?"

"For being there. For bringing me here." She swallowed hard. "For stopping me from falling."

Understanding darkened his eyes. He reached across the space between them, taking her hand. "Were you going to jump, Amelia?"

She looked away, unable to meet his gaze. "I don't know. Maybe. I slipped, but... I don't know if I would have fought it if you hadn't grabbed me."

His fingers tightened around hers. "I'm glad I was there."

"Why were you there?" The question had been nagging at her. "Of all the bridges in the city, at that exact moment..."

Lucas released her hand, leaning back in his chair. "I was at a charity function downtown. Dropped my phone while getting into the car. Asked James to circle back while I looked for it." He smiled faintly. "Turns out it was in my pocket the whole time. But if I hadn't gone back..."

The implication hung in the air between them.

"Maybe it was meant to be," Amelia said, not believing in fate but unable to explain the coincidence any other way.

"Maybe." Lucas finished his whiskey, setting the glass aside. "Either way, I'm here now. And so are you."

"What happens next?" The question escaped before she could stop it, revealing the fear that lurked beneath her grief, the terrifying unknown that stretched before her.

Lucas studied her face for a long moment. "Tonight, you rest. Tomorrow, we figure it out." He leaned forward again. "But I want you to know something, Amelia. You're not alone. Not anymore."

"You barely know me anymore," she protested weakly. "We haven't seen each other in over two decades."

"I know enough." His voice was firm. "I know you were the kindest person I ever met. I know you were brilliant before Richard convinced you to drop out of law school. I know you deserved better than what happened tonight."

Tears pricked at her eyes again. "Lucas..."

"Stay here," he said. "As long as you need. Get back on your feet. Figure out what you want. What you really want, without Richard or anyone else telling you."

The offer was so generous, so unexpected, that Amelia couldn't find words to respond.

"You don't have to decide right now," Lucas continued. "Just know the offer is there."

"Why?" she whispered. "Why would you do this for me?"

Something flickered in his eyes, an emotion she couldn't quite name. "Because once upon a time, you were the only person who saw me. Not the awkward scholarship kid. Not the brain people copied homework from. Just Lucas." He smiled, a hint of sadness in it. "Some debts can never be repaid."

Amelia felt a strange warmth spreading through her chest, different from the heat of the whiskey or the fire. For the first time since Richard had walked into the restaurant with Charlotte, she felt something other than pain and humiliation.

She felt seen.

"Thank you," she said simply.

Lucas nodded, understanding in his eyes. "It's late. You should rest."

As he showed her to the guest suite, a space larger and more luxurious than any hotel room she had ever stayed in, Amelia found herself wondering what tomorrow would bring. The pain was still there, raw and throbbing beneath the surface, but something else had begun to take root alongside it.

A tiny seed of possibility.

She closed the door to the guest suite and leaned against it, exhaustion washing over her in waves. The king-sized bed looked impossibly inviting, the sheets turned down, a glass of water and two pills, aspirin, she guessed, waiting on the nightstand.

Amelia swallowed the pills and climbed into bed, her body sinking into the mattress as if it had been made for her. As sleep began to claim her, one thought drifted through her mind.

Twenty years ago, she had chosen Richard over her own dreams. She had molded herself into what he wanted, what her children needed, what society expected. She had become Amelia Carter, the perfect wife and mother, and buried the woman she might have been.

Perhaps it was time for that woman to rise again.

In the darkness of Lucas County's guest room, on the same night her husband had destroyed her world, Amelia allowed herself to imagine, just for a moment, what it might feel like to rebuild it, not for Richard, not for her children, but for herself.

And for the first time in twenty years, the future didn't look like a prison sentence.

It looked like freedom.