“Nice bodies and pretty faces are dime a dozen. You were different.” He takes a bite of his lunch and lets the silence stretch for a moment.
“Then why did you act like you didn’t want me back? You never wanted to stay the night or take me to meet your family or friends. If they’d seen me before the accident, maybe things would’ve turned out differently.”
He hesitates.
“You don’t want to talk about it,” I say finally.
His fingers twitch. “It’s not that. I’m trying to figure out how to say it so I can avoid looking like an idiot…” He sighs. “Okay, it was my fault. Even as I wanted you, I was fighting it. I felt like I didn?
?t deserve that kind of love.”
Then I know. “Your mother.”
“What do you mean?”
I shake my head. “Don’t do that. We promised to be honest with each other, and you’re not. It’s not fair.”
“You’re right, it’s not. I’m sorry. No, I don’t want to talk about her.”
“Okay.” He isn’t willing to open up yet, so I’m not going to push it. After all, we can’t continue to have mutual respect and honesty if we refuse to let the other person be. I’m afraid to push too hard and ruin what we have. “Then can you tell me about the deal between you and your father? What the tabloids said… It’s true, isn’t it?”
He nods, his shoulders relaxing a bit. “Basically. What they didn’t publish is that the whole thing came about because Dad was furious we missed his Wedding Number Six.”
“To some woman who isn’t even half his age.” I saw that part too on the Internet.
“I’d be surprised if she finished high school. She’s so young she could’ve been our sister.”
“He must love her, though.”
Lucas snorts a laugh. “He can’t stand his wives. His ego was hurt that we didn’t show. Blake, Ryder and Elizabeth opted to attend their cousin’s wedding—it was his first marriage, after all—and Elliot and I chose not to go because after a while, you don’t want to be part of your parents’ circus. But Dad wanted to make a point, and he knew he could use the portraits to get to us. There were some complications with Grandpa’s will, and the paintings went to my father, who thinks we’re all a bunch of worthless losers, and that our grandfather was too soft on us.”
“That’s awful. He’s your father.”
“A reluctant father. I’m sure he regrets he didn’t ask his wives to get abortions.”
I gasp.
“We were just bargaining chips in the divorces, although it didn’t work out the way he wanted with me and Elliot.”
“Why not?”
“Because our mother didn’t try to win custody. She preferred a fatter alimony payment.”
My image of Lucas as a child, growing up in abundance with everything a person could want, crumbles. Everything online portrayed an enviable life, and I accepted it all without question. “So what’s so special about the portraits?” I ask. “Everyone seemed to be focused on how much they’re worth, but that’s not it, is it?”
“Their monetary value isn’t even a consideration for us.” He jabs the air with his fork. “I’m not denying they’re each worth millions of bucks, but let’s face it. We don’t need the money. If we get them, none of us will ever sell them. The value—to us—is entirely sentimental. Our grandfather painted them when we turned eighteen, and they show the potential and greatness he saw in us.”
“They must be amazing. I wish I could see the one of you.”
Lucas shifts his weight, then reaches for his beer. “It’s pretty romanticized. Grandpa only saw the best in everyone.”
“I don’t see the best in everyone, but I think you’re incredible.” I finish the last of my fries. My mind is made up. “Let’s get married.”
He stares at me as though I’ve asked him to climb Everest in the nude. “Ava…we can’t.”
“What? Why not?”
“I didn’t go after you to get the painting.”