I had always prided myself on my ability to keep my emotions in check. Years of practice had made it easy to push things aside, to bury feelings I didn't want to deal with.
But being around Lucas again was testing my limits.
Especially now, as we sat in the reception hall, forced to work side by side on the seating chart.
Emma had conveniently abandoned us for a phone call, leaving me stuck with him.
"So," Lucas said, glancing at the layout in front of us. "Are we separating people based on whether or not they want to throw something at each other?"
I rolled my eyes. "Tempting, but no."
He smirked, but I ignored it, forcing myself to focus. "Emma and Andrew want their families close to the head table. Bridesmaids and groomsmen over here..." I gestured to a section of the chart. "And then we just need to make sure we don't sit feuding relatives too close together."
Lucas leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "That's a lot of effort to avoid drama."
I shot him a look. "Says the man who just admitted people might want to throw things at each other."
He chuckled. "Fair point."
We fell into silence as I made notes, but I could feel him watching me.
It wasn't the same look he used to give me when we were together-the teasing, knowing glances that had once made my heart race. No, this was different. He was studying me, like he was trying to figure me out.
I hated how much it unnerved me.
Finally, he spoke. "You really don't want to talk to me, do you?"
I exhaled through my nose. "We're talking right now."
"You know what I mean."
I kept my eyes on the seating chart. "Lucas, there's nothing left to say."
He was quiet for a moment, then leaned forward, lowering his voice. "That's not true, and you know it."
My hands tightened around the pen. "Lucas-"
"I don't regret a lot of things, Claire." His voice was calm, steady. "But I regret the way things ended between us."
A sharp, painful ache bloomed in my chest.
I forced a laugh, but it sounded hollow. "Funny. I don't regret it at all."
I knew it was a lie the second I said it.
And from the way Lucas's expression hardened, he knew it too.
He leaned back, nodding slowly. "Right."
I hated the way my stomach twisted, but before I could say anything else, Emma came rushing back into the room.
"Crisis averted!" she announced, completely oblivious to the tension in the air. "Now, how's the seating chart looking?"
I cleared my throat, grateful for the interruption. "Almost done."
Emma beamed. "Great! Oh, and Claire, don't forget-we need to pick up the dress alterations later."
I nodded, eager for the escape.
But as I gathered my things, Lucas's voice stopped me.
"I'll drive you."
I froze, glancing up at him.
Emma clapped her hands. "Oh, perfect! I was going to ask, but now I don't have to."
I opened my mouth to protest, but Emma was already moving on to another topic, and Lucas just watched me with that same unreadable expression.
I had a bad feeling about this.
And as much as I didn't want to be alone with him, I knew there was no getting out of it.
Sitting in a car with Lucas Montgomery was the last thing I wanted to do.
And yet, here I was.
The drive to the bridal boutique was quiet at first. The air between us was thick with unspoken words, the kind that sat heavy on my chest and made it hard to breathe. I kept my gaze on the road ahead, determined not to let myself get caught in the trap of nostalgia.
Lucas, however, seemed less inclined to let the silence linger.
"You still fidget when you're nervous," he said after a few minutes, his voice breaking the quiet.
I glanced down at my fingers, which were tapping against my knee. Annoyed, I stilled them and shot him a glare. "I'm not nervous."
His lips twitched. "If you say so."
I huffed, turning my gaze back to the window. I could see the reflection of his smirk in the glass, and it only irritated me further.
"Why are you even here, Lucas?" I finally asked, unable to hold it in any longer. "You didn't have to volunteer to drive me."
He exhaled, gripping the steering wheel tighter. "Emma would've insisted."
I crossed my arms. "You could've said no."
He was quiet for a moment before answering. "Maybe I didn't want to."
That threw me off.
I turned to him, studying his profile. The strong jawline, the slight crease between his brows, the way his fingers tapped against the wheel like he had something on his mind.
This wasn't the Lucas I remembered.
The Lucas I had fallen in love with had been carefree, charming, always full of witty remarks. But the man sitting next to me now carried something heavier. Something I couldn't quite put my finger on.
Not that it mattered.
I forced myself to look away. "Well, don't expect me to thank you for it."
He let out a low chuckle. "Trust me, Claire. I know better than to expect gratitude from you."
I stiffened. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
Lucas glanced at me, his hazel eyes unreadable. "Forget it."
"No," I snapped. "Say what you want to say."
He sighed. "It just means you walked away and never looked back."
Anger flared in my chest. "Are you seriously trying to make me the villain here?"
"I never said that."
"You didn't have to."
Silence filled the car again, but this time, it was charged.
I could feel the weight of the past pressing down on us, all the unresolved pain and bitterness threatening to spill over.
Lucas exhaled sharply. "I'm not trying to fight with you, Claire."
"Then what are you trying to do?" I asked, my voice quieter now.
His grip on the wheel tightened. "I don't know."
That admission-so raw, so honest-caught me off guard.
For a moment, we weren't two people who had hurt each other. We weren't exes caught in the web of a wedding weekend. We were just Claire and Lucas. Two people who had once loved each other, sitting in a car filled with ghosts of the past.
But that moment passed too quickly.
The bridal boutique came into view, and with it, the reality of our situation crashed back down.
I cleared my throat, straightening in my seat. "We're here."
Lucas nodded but didn't say anything else.
When he pulled into the parking lot, I was out of the car before he could even put it in park.
I needed space.
I needed air.
But as I walked toward the boutique, I knew one thing for certain-this weekend was going to break me if I wasn't careful.