It was raining again.
Lucien sat in his private study, thunder rolling softly in the distance. The storm mirrored the unrest in his mind.
Sleep had been elusive lately. He'd started dreaming, flashes of a woman's laughter, the curve of a cheek, the smell of lavender in the wind.
He always woke with his heart racing… and no answers.
A soft knock interrupted his thoughts.
"Come in."
Ava stepped in cautiously, holding a tray of tea.
"I thought you might need something warm," she said.
Lucien raised an eyebrow. "Do I look that tired?"
She gave him a small smile. "You always look tired these days."
He accepted the cup. Their hands brushed. Electricity, again.
She turned to leave but paused when something colorful caught her eye near the fireplace.
A child's drawing.
She froze.
Her breath caught in her chest.
Lucien noticed her reaction. "What is it?"
Ava stepped forward slowly. The drawing was taped to the wall beside a collection of books. Crayon lines, shaky but full of feeling, depicted a man, a woman, and a little boy standing between them, all holding hands.
The man had black hair. The boy had brown curls.
She recognized it instantly. Her son's drawing.
It must have fallen out of her pocket yesterday… or maybe she left it behind by accident while dusting.
Her heart pounded.
Lucien followed her gaze, rising from his seat. "Do you know it?"
Ava forced herself to breathe. "It's… sweet. Probably one of the staff's children."
Lucien studied it more carefully. "Funny. The man in the drawing looks like me."
She swallowed hard. "It's just a drawing."
"But the kid," Lucien murmured, "he has your eyes."
That stopped her cold.
Lucien didn't notice her flinch. He was too focused on the drawing now, fingers brushing the paper. "I don't know why, but looking at this… it feels like something I lost. Something I want back."
Ava whispered, "Maybe you still can."
He turned toward her.
Their eyes met. A storm passed silently between them.
"What did you say?"
She shook her head quickly. "Nothing. I should go."
She left the study, clutching the tray so tightly her knuckles turned white.
Later that night, Lucien stared at the drawing again.
He couldn't explain it.
But the little boy in the picture made his chest ache… like he'd loved someone before.
And forgotten the most important part of his life.