45: We'll talk later
**Tristan**
The day after the Alpha Conference, my father had phoned me to tell me that he’d made good on our promise and that my sister had been unharmed the entire time. I wanted to phone her and make sure of her wellbeing myself but realised it would have been too suspicious. And so, I relied on my father’s word, until I went to work on Monday. There, Ambrose’s claim to have kept his promise was confirmed when Damon strangely told me of the weekend’s events. It was odd, to have a normal conversation with the man, but I found it rather refreshing. The last thing he asked during that conversation still haunted me all through the next few days. It was an invitation to dinner with the family and of course Damon, by now knowing my situation with his brother, promised Lucien wouldn’t be there. I didn’t accept, nor did I decline the invitation. Instead, I stayed silent on the matter as I couldn’t quite muster up the courage to accept yet.
Surprisingly, I didn’t see much of Lucien for the first few days of the week, and every time I did manage to see him, I’d make it a point to actively avoid him, no matter how much harder it made my work. What Oliver said had stuck with me, but I was still too unsure to be near him. Unfortunately, my privilege of “choice” was taken away about halfway through the week. Damon had decided that I was working well enough for him to finally trust me enough to accompany him to meetings. I was surprised and quite satisfied with his decision… until the morning of the meeting. We entered the car and suddenly, I was rather rudely reminded that Lucien also attended meetings with Damon. Not only that, but it finally became apparent to me why exactly Lucien had been so scarce up until now. He’d lured me into a feeling of false security. He’d made me believe that perhaps he’d decided to give me space too, when instead, he’d been plotting to get me alone just like this. It was also clear that Damon was in on this devious plan as he was the one who opened the door to the passenger seat for me, and the moment I sat down, I was met with the smiling face of Lucien.
“You can’t ignore me now, Love.” Lucien said with a smug smile on his face. He was close, too close for me to concentrate, to focus, to avoid his gaze.
I bit at my lip before turning my head and staring wordlessly at the back of the seat in front of me.
“Silent treatment still?” He asked in astonishment. I huffed and continued looking forward. Lucien sighed and then suddenly placed his hand gently against my shoulder. The very contact between his hand and my shoulder almost had me jumping out of my seat. It was a feeling so euphorically familiar, that it had my skin forming goosebumps, my heart thudding rapidly in my chest and my legs shut tightly together.
“Tristan…” He uttered softly. By now I was caught completely off-guard, and I found my eyes meeting his. They were filled with an apologetic sincerity that had me beyond confused. I was further confused when he uttered his next few words. “I… I’m sorry.”
Sorry? He was sorry? I couldn’t even begin to understand what he thought he needed to be sorry for. This time around, Lucien had truly done nothing wrong. It was my fault, and it was me who needed to be sorry. *I* was the one who’d come here with the sole purpose of destroying his family. *I* was the indecisive one. *I* was the one ignoring him.
“What for?” It came out of my mouth faster than I could catch it to avoid letting it slip, but once it did, Lucien’s eyes widened. He recovered soon enough with a response. “Well… for whatever it is I did wrong. Clearly it must have been something bad… perhaps it’s about me tormenting your sister all those years ago?”
I could see Damon’s ears perk up. The man was nothing if not nosey and, although I planned to lie about most of the reason I was ignoring Lucien, I found it a rather awkward conversation to have in front of the man that was not only Lucien’s brother, but my boss as well.
And so, I turned towards Lucien with a sigh and said, “Could we… talk about this later…privately?”
Of course, I could have begun ignoring him again after my little slip up, but there was something in that pained expression on his face when he apologised, that wouldn’t allow me to continue this game of avoidance. I hated that look on his face. I hated the remorse, the desperation, the sorrow. It wasn’t him. It wasn’t a look I enjoyed seeing on his face. Instead, I began to realise that I liked it when he smiled. It didn’t matter which smile he wore, I liked them all. His cheeky grin, his snide smirk, his flirty side-mouth smirk and that beautiful smile he gave me when he was truly happy. I wanted to see him smile more… no, I wanted *this* more. I wanted the contact between us, I wanted to breathe in his scent, I wanted my heartrate to soar in his presence, but more importantly I wanted to smile along with him. And now, sitting next to him while he had that look of relief on his face, I knew that one day I would. Perhaps it was at this moment that I indirectly had made my decision. Perhaps it was at this point that I’d chosen my side, but nothing could be certain just yet, and I didn’t know then what I did later on.
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