My Cold-Hearted Husband Wants Me Back
Chapter 162: The Loser

Chapter 162: The Loser

Lucas stood by the window of his room, the night pressing against the glass like a ghost trying to get in. His reflection stared back at him, older now, wearier, but still wearing the same lie.

He hadn’t forgotten anything.

He remembered the crash. The way the tires had screamed. The smell of burnt rubber. The panic in her voice.

"Lucas, I’m almost due!"

She had said it, trembling, her fingers digging into her coat.

He had been too stunned to process it then, too caught up in what he needed to do next. There was something he had to handle first, something that couldn’t wait. He told her they couldn’t get married yet, not until he settled it.

That’s when she snapped.

"You think I did all this just to be left behind?!" she’d screamed. "I used the money, your money, to get insurance. I don’t care. At least someone will take care of my family if you won’t."

He remembered the way her voice cracked. He remembered grabbing the wheel too tight.

And then everything broke.

Lucas closed his eyes.

She didn’t survive. Not that night.

But their daughter did.

He’d never seen her. Never held her. Lying on the bed, broken ribs and fractured spine, he only knew she existed because his mother wouldn’t stop talking about her, assuming he remembered nothing. Assuming he was too far gone to understand.

So he listened.

Every night. Every visit. Regina’s soft, trembling voice piecing together the life he should have had.

"She has your eyes, Lucas," she would whisper. "She laughs like you did when you were little."

And he’d lay there, eyes shut, motionless.

Pretending.

Pretending he didn’t know. That he hadn’t already remembered the crash. That he didn’t remember the betrayal, the argument, the moment everything shattered.

Because if he admitted it, if he let it out, he’d have to face what he lost.

And even when he had lost her too.

His daughter. Gone before he ever got to say her name.

Still, he couldn’t react. Not when Regina told him the news, her hands shaking as she stroked his hair.

"She’s gone, Lucas... I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry."

He said nothing.

What was he supposed to say? That never lost his memories all this time? That the pain of pretending was easier than the pain of facing it?

Lucas opened his eyes, staring at the reflection again.

What kind of man lets the world believe he’s broken, just because the truth hurts more?

Lucas scoffed, "What a loser..." he muttered, glaring at his reflection like it might talk back.

He wanted to blame Eryx. And honestly? Part of him still did.

He heard everything.

Everyone talked about how Eryx stepped up after the crash. How he handled the company. Held the family together. Took care of the child Lucas never got to hold.

But no one remembered what came before.

Before the accident, Lucas had been the only one still trying to keep their family’s empire afloat. Still trying to uphold their grandmother’s legacy — her vision for what the Granthams were meant to be.

And at that time, Eryx had already walked away. Off chasing a different dream. A startup. Freedom. Whatever he called it then.

And Lucas... had let him go. Had told himself he could handle it all.

He couldn’t.

He had been drowning, even before that night.

Trying to run the company. Trying to be perfect in everything.

Trying to keep his girlfriend from slipping away, even as she begged him to choose her first.

He didn’t.

Now she is gone.

And the worst part? He didn’t even get to grieve like a man who lost everything.

He pressed his forehead against the cool glass. Lucas didn’t move.

What was he supposed to do now?

The lie had gone on for too long. And if he ripped it open now, what would be left? A mother who lied to protect him. A brother who had stepped into the world he’d nearly died trying to hold up. A daughter... gone before he ever got the chance to feel her heartbeat in his arms.

Grief tangled in his chest, slow and suffocating.

He was alive.

But for what?

To carry memories no one knew he had? To keep pretending this skin wasn’t too tight for the truth?

Lucas closed his eyes again, pressing his fingers to his temple like he could force clarity into place.

He couldn’t go back.

He wasn’t sure he ever left.

A knock broke through the stillness, sharp and hesitant.

He turned toward the door, his body stiff. For a moment, he just stared, unsure if he had imagined it.

Another knock followed. Softer this time.

He didn’t move. Didn’t speak. He didn’t want anyone stepping into this space — not tonight. Not while the past clawed at him from every shadow.

But the door creaked open anyway. Slowly. Quietly.

A voice, low and unsure, slipped in through the crack.

"Lucas?"

He exhaled through his nose, his jaw tightening at the sound.

"Oh, you’re still awake?" Regina stepped inside the moment she spotted him by the window. "Are you okay?"

Lucas gave a small nod, his gaze shifting back to the darkness outside.

"I’m sorry you had to witness the chaos of our family," Regina said with a faint, self-deprecating sneer. "It didn’t give you a headache, did it?"

Lucas stayed still, the window’s reflection casting back a version of himself he barely recognized.

Regina stepped closer, waiting for some response. Anything.

After a long silence, Lucas finally murmured, "I was just... so tired back then."

His voice was low, almost lost in the hush of the room.

Regina frowned. "Tired?"

He didn’t answer. Just kept staring out into the dark, like it held pieces of something he’d once dropped and never picked back up.

"I should’ve said something," he murmured, more to himself than to her. "I should’ve told you. Told Grandma... that I was tired."

Silence settled between them, thick, trembling and real.

And with that, the moment slipped into silence once again before Regina’s eyes slowly widened in realisation, "What did you just say?"

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