The Wife he threw Away (Claire and Lucian) novel Chapter 253

I woke to warmth.

It wasn’t just the warmth of the morning sun slipping through the gap in my curtains. No, this was something steadier.

Something that rose and fell against my back with slow, even breaths.

For one blissful moment, I simply lay there, my eyes still closed, letting myself enjoy it.

Then memory returned— Lucian.

A smile found its way to my lips before I could stop it.

I opened my eyes, slow and careful.

The pale morning light spilled across my bedroom from the window. My apartment was quiet— the kind of quiet that only existed before the city fully woke.

I shifted slightly, and felt Lucian’s arm tighten instinctively around my waist.

I couldn’t help laughing under my breath.

He was still asleep.

It’d been too long since I had the chance to study him without him noticing.

His dark hair was slightly messy, refusing to stay neatly in place. His jaw, usually so tense and composed, had relaxed completely.

Even whilst asleep, he looked exhausted.

There were faint shadows beneath his eyes, and his complexion was still far paler than normal.

The white bandage reminded me just how close I’d come to losing him.

Only two weeks ago, Hart Sullivan’s knife had been buried in his body, and a gunshot had torn through his shoulder.

Machines had beeped beside him while I begged him not to leave me.

My chest tightened at the thought.

I reached out almost unconsciously, letting my fingertips brush across the back of his hand.

That was when he stirred. His eyelashes fluttered before his eyes slowly opened.

For a second, he looked completely confused. Then he saw me, and a small smile spread across his face.

“Good morning,” he murmured into my hair, his voice still rough from sleep.

I smiled back. “Good morning.”

He blinked lazily before glancing around my bedroom.

Then his gaze returned to me. “Good morning, wife.”

I laughed then, loud and carefree. “I’m not your wife anymore, remember?”

“For now.” He corrected.

The confidence in those two words made me shake my head.

“You really don’t give up, do you?”

“I’ve had excellent motivation lately.” He teased.

“Oh, really?”

Lucian nodded very seriously.

Heat crept into my cheeks. “You’ve become insufferably charming.”

“I’ve always been charming.” He retorted.

“You’ve always been arrogant.”

“Last I checked, they’re practically the same thing.”

I rolled my eyes then. “They’re really not.”

“They are if you’re me.”

I laughed again.

God! I had almost forgotten what it felt like to laugh with him— not politely or cautiously… not laughing through the pain either.

Just… naturally.

Lucian watched me with a soft expression.

“What?” I snapped.

He shook his head, chuckling quietly. “I just missed that.”

“What?”

“Your laugh.”

I felt my smile melt off my face. “I didn’t have much to laugh about for a long time.”

“I’m sorry.” Lucian said, voice low.

Silence settled between us— comfortable, peaceful silence.

He lifted our joined hands slightly, studying our intertwined fingers.

“I’ve imagined this so many times in these past few months.”

I frowned. “What?”

“Waking up beside you again.”

My heart squeezed painfully.

“I used to think about it every morning.” Lucian said, letting out a quiet laugh.

I had been married for five years— for two out of those five, I less like a partner and more like a housemate. Or a designated housewife.

Of course getting married to the same man again was a terrifying thought.

But Lucian didn’t look disappointed… only thoughtful.

“I understand.” He said solemnly.

“You do?”

“I have to.” He cupped my face, smiling gently.

“You already married me once, and look how that turned out.” I said.

His smile disappeared. “I’m sorry.”

I put a finger over his lips, shushing him. “No.” I shook my head. “We promised; no more apologizing every five minutes.”

“You’re right.” He said, moving my finger from his lips, and kissing the back of my hand.

“I just…” I paused, watching him leave a trail of kisses on my hand.

“I don’t want us to rush because we’re happy.” I continued. “I want us to build something stronger than what we had before.”

Lucian nodded without hesitation. “I want that too.”

“I don’t want you asking me to marry you because you feel guilty.”

His expression immediately became serious. “It isn’t about guilt.”

“You sure?”

“Completely.” He reached for my face again. “I’ll spend the rest of my life making up for what I did.”

His thumb brushed lightly against my cheek. “But marrying you isn’t how I plan to do that.”

I looked into his eyes.

“I want to marry you because, somewhere along the way… you’ve become home.”

“You make crying a very regular activity!” I scolded playfully, as I blinked back the tears already forming in my eyes.

“I was aiming for smiling.”

“You’ve achieved both.”

He kissed my forehead then. “I’ll take it.”

For a while, neither of us spoke.

We simply lay there, listening to each other breathe.

Listening to the city slowly wake beyond my apartment windows.