Chapter 237

Serena's POV

"Eleanor," I answered, my voice soft in the darkness.

"Are you still in Portland?" The familiar warmth in her voice brought memories of easier times flooding back.

"Yes, is everything alright?"

"I was hoping you could come over for dinner tomorrow. You won't believe it, but I've actually become quite good at cooking." She laughed, the sound tinged with pride. "I wanted you and Quinn to come try it and give me your honest opinion. Drew keeps saying everything's delicious, but I'm pretty sure he's just trying to flatter me. I need some real feedback."

The affection in her voice when she mentioned Drew made my heart ache with a bittersweet joy. Their happiness was a reminder of what love could be - uncomplicated and pure. I smiled, though she couldn't see it. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I won't be able to make it back anytime soon."

"Wait..." There was a pause, and I could practically see her sitting up straighter. "Are you really with Atticus Thorne? Are you staying at his place? Are you living together?" The excitement in her voice was unmistakable.

I knew this conversation was coming. She'd been texting me about the news reports, but I'd avoided responding. The situation was too complicated to explain in messages. But now, facing her direct questions, I couldn't dodge the truth any longer.

"Have you really given up on my brother... on Lucas?" she asked, her voice quieter now, more hesitant.

I couldn't help but tease, trying to lighten the moment. "Lucas abandoned you, and you're still taking his side?"

"It wasn't really abandonment," she protested. "Given his situation, choosing his aunt made sense. The Harringtons have always prioritized family ties. It's deeply ingrained in them - the influence of their upbringing isn't something that can be easily changed."

Eleanor's kindness never ceased to amaze me. She always tried to see the best in people, to understand their motivations. But right now, I needed her to focus on the present situation.

"You're deflecting," she continued, her voice gaining momentum. "What's really going on with you and Atticus? Is it real, or is it just circumstances? Are you trying to keep Rachel away?"

I sighed, running my fingers through my hair. "There's nothing between Atticus and me. It's just rumors, but neither of us is in a position to deny them right now. The situation is... complicated."

"I knew it! I knew you couldn't have moved on that quickly."

"Even if I were with Atticus, it wouldn't be 'moving on,'" I corrected her gently. "You can't move on from something that never truly began."

The conversation shifted as Eleanor began talking about her relationship with Drew. Her voice became shy, hesitant. "Serena... about Drew and me..."

I waited patiently, knowing she needed time to find the right words.

After a deep breath, she continued, "Do you think we're ready to... you know... take that next step?"

"You haven't yet?" The words slipped out before I could stop them.

"Drew might seem like a playboy, but he's surprisingly traditional about this. Sometimes I think maybe I should take the initiative? It feels like something's missing without that intimacy."

I considered my words carefully. "If you're sure about Drew and your feelings are genuine, there's nothing wrong with taking the initiative. The traditional idea that women should always wait for men to make the first move is outdated. What matters is that you both feel ready and comfortable."

"So you think I should... prepare?" The excitement in her voice was barely contained.

We talked for a while longer before finally hanging up. I found myself staring out the window at the few stars visible through Portland's light pollution, lost in thought. The night was deep, and sleep felt impossibly far away.

Glancing at my phone, I saw it was already 11 PM. I wondered if Lucas had returned yet, though something told me he wouldn't be coming back tonight.

Despite the pain in my leg, I got up, using my crutch for support as I headed to the kitchen for water. As I opened my bedroom door, I saw Lucas walking in from the main entrance. His cheeks were flushed, suggesting he'd been drinking.

He noticed me standing in the doorway with my crutch and smiled, that infuriatingly confident smile that used to make my heart skip a beat. "Were you waiting up for me?"

I scoffed, turning back toward my room.

Lucas's arms encircled me from behind. The scent of whiskey hung heavy on his breath - he'd clearly had more than a few drinks tonight. His presence overwhelmed my senses, his warmth seeping through my thin silk blouse.

"Don't go." His voice was rough with emotion as he held me against his chest. His lips found the curve of my neck, drinking in my signature scent with desperate need. The sensation was intoxicating, and his embrace tightened as his mouth grew more insistent against my skin.

"Do you enjoy having multiple women in your arms?" I asked, my voice carrying an unusual chill. I felt his body tense at my words.

"Tell me, Lucas, who feels better in your arms - me or Rachel?" The sarcasm in my voice was sharp enough to cut. His entire body went rigid.

"I have to say, I really don't care for jasmine perfume," I added pointedly. The scent of Rachel's signature fragrance still clung to his clothes, unmistakable and damning.

His arms loosened their grip, and I easily slipped free of his embrace. I shut the bedroom door with perhaps more force than necessary, symbolically closing the door on whatever was left between us. Back in bed, I found myself painfully thirsty, but the thought of venturing out for water was unbearable. I tossed and turned, unable to escape the phantom scent of jasmine that seemed to have infected my entire room.

Finally, in frustration, I got up and headed to the en-suite bathroom. Since regaining my mobility, I'd insisted on maintaining my independence, including my nightly shower routine. The doctors had given their approval, provided I was careful to avoid infection and falls. I'd become expert at navigating around my injured right leg and the constellation of cuts and bruises that still marked my body.

The shower was a slow process - there were still many movements that caused discomfort. I let the warm water cascade over me, trying to wash away more than just the physical remnants of the day. As I stood under the spray, my mind wandered to the events that had brought me here. The betrayal still stung, but something else nagged at me - something about Lucas's behavior tonight that didn't quite fit with what I thought I knew.

After the shower, I changed into fresh sleepwear, soft cotton pants and a loose t-shirt that wouldn't aggravate my healing injuries. When I checked my phone, the glowing numbers showed 1:00 AM.

Returning to bed, I noticed something new on the nightstand - a thermal mug filled with water. I tested it with my finger, precisely the temperature I preferred. The gesture hit me harder than I expected.

I pressed my lips together, fighting back an unwanted surge of emotion. While I'd never explicitly told anyone about my midnight thirst, Lucas had somehow known. He had always possessed an uncanny ability to anticipate my needs, even now, even after everything.