Lucas stood on the doorstep of the modest house Isla had made her home. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the garden, but inside, Lucas felt only the weight of years pressing down on his chest. He had rehearsed this moment countless times in his mind, but now, faced with the reality, words seemed fragile and inadequate.
The door opened before he could knock again. Isla stood there, her eyes wide with surprise and guarded wariness. The years apart had carved lines into her face, but beneath the weariness, Lucas saw the woman he had once loved-the woman he still loved.
"Lucas," she said cautiously, stepping back to let him in.
He nodded, stepping inside. The familiar scent of jasmine and old books filled the air, a bittersweet reminder of what they had lost.
"Isla," he began, voice low but steady, "I need to know. Why didn't you tell me? Why did you keep everything from me?"
Isla's eyes flickered with pain. She looked away, biting her lip before speaking. "Did you look for me? Did you ask anyone besides your father?"
Lucas's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"
She took a deep breath, her voice trembling with the weight of years spent in silence. "Because he told me you didn't want anything to do with me. That I wasn't worth your time. That you were getting married-to the woman he chose for you."
Lucas's heart clenched. "Married? Isla, I was never remarried. None of that is true."
He paced the room, running a hand through his hair. "The divorce happened because my father was trying to harm you. I didn't want that to happen, so I stayed away to protect you."
Isla's eyes searched his face, a mixture of disbelief and hope. "Then why didn't you reach out? Why did you let me believe you'd moved on?"
Lucas stopped pacing and faced her, his eyes shining with determination. "Because I didn't know what was happening. Your silence, his lies-they kept us apart."
He took a step closer, voice firm but gentle. "But I'm done with that. I'm going to demand answers. I will get to the root of this, Isla. For you, for us."
Tears welled in Isla's eyes, and for the first time in years, she allowed herself to hope. "I want to believe you."
Lucas reached out, taking her hand in his. "Then let's start by telling each other everything."
They sat together in the small living room, the afternoon light fading into evening. Isla began to speak, her voice shaky but determined.
"I was pregnant when we divorced," she confessed. "I didn't know how to tell you. I tried to reach out, but your father intercepted everything. He told me to stay away, that I was a gold digger trying to ruin your life."
Lucas's jaw tightened. "I had no idea. I never received a single call or message from you."
Isla nodded. "He made sure of that. He said you were moving on, that you were getting married to someone else."
Lucas shook his head in disbelief. "That's a lie. I was fighting my own battles, trying to protect you from him."
He paused, the anger and regret mingling in his voice. "I should have fought harder. I should have found you."
Isla's tears fell freely now. "I was alone. I didn't know who to trust."
Lucas pulled her into an embrace, holding her tightly. "You're not alone anymore. I'm here."
As the night deepened, they talked long into the hours, unraveling the tangled web of lies and pain that had kept them apart.
Lucas vowed to confront his father, to demand the truth and protect Isla and their son.
Isla promised to open her heart, to trust again.
Lucas's footsteps echoed sharply down the marble hallway of his father's estate, each step fueled by a storm of anger and desperation. The grand house, with its ornate chandeliers and heavy velvet drapes, felt suffocating, a gilded cage built on secrets and lies. He gripped the heavy brass handle of the study door, his knuckles white with tension, and pushed it open.
Inside, the room was dimly lit, the heavy scent of aged leather and polished wood filling the air. His father sat behind an imposing mahogany desk, fingers steepled, eyes cold and calculating. The portraits of stern ancestors watched down from the walls, silent witnesses to the unfolding drama.
Lucas stepped forward, voice steady but fierce. "I want answers."
His father's lips curled into a disdainful smirk. "About what, exactly?"
Lucas's gaze hardened. "About Isla. About the lies. About the silence. Why did you keep her away? Why did you let me believe she was gone from my life?"
His father's eyes narrowed. "Isla was never worthy of you. She was poor, from a family beneath ours. I protected you-from her and the scandal she would have brought."
Lucas's fists clenched at his sides, the truth cutting deeper than he expected. "How could you hate her so much? Why?"
His father said nothing, the silence heavy and suffocating.
Lucas's voice rose, raw with pain and fury. "You hid her pregnancy from me! I never got a call, a message, nothing. You paid your assistant to block everything. I have a son-a son I didn't even know existed! And that son is weak, needing care and support. Isla suffered in silence because of you. Were you cruel enough to hurt your own grandson?"
His father's eyes glinted with cold steel. "If you go back to her, you're disowned. You'll have no place in this family."
Lucas took a deep breath, the weight of the ultimatum crashing over him. "I won't let your lies keep me from my son."
He turned sharply and left the room, the door closing behind him with a finality that echoed in the silence.
Outside the study, Lucas leaned against the cold stone wall, his mind racing. The man who was supposed to protect and guide him had been the architect of his greatest pain. The revelation of a son he had never known, a child he had been denied, burned in his chest like fire.
He thought of Isla-the strength it must have taken to carry that secret alone, to raise their son without him. The thought filled him with both shame and determination.
Lucas clenched his fists. He would fight for his son. He would fight for Isla. No matter the cost.
As he walked away from the estate, the sun dipping below the horizon, Lucas felt a strange mixture of loss and resolve. The path ahead was uncertain and fraught with danger, but for the first time in years, he had a clear purpose.
He would
uncover the truth.
He would reclaim his family.
And he would not be silenced again.