Page 207 of Boss of the Year

His hand was still resting on my stomach like he was afraid to move it. I could practically see his mind working, calculating dates and probabilities and implications. Even when the world was shifting beneath his feet.

“We should go,” I said when the silence became too much. “Everyone will be wondering where breakfast is. My grandmother rarely gets up after eight, and it’s already seven forty-five.”

Lucas nodded and fell into step beside me as we continued into the village, winding up the medieval streets until we had reached the central square and the market that poured from it down one of the main streets. Vendors were bouncing around, many of them like they hadn’t been sitting at my tables only a few hours earlier, soaked in the last remnants of brandy and persimmon tarte.

The familiar sights should have been comforting. Over the last few months, this had become my routine, my community. But with Lucas walking silently beside me, it felt like I was seeing it all for the first time, but through someone else’s eyes.

What would he think when I told him I planned to raise our child here instead of in New York?

Would he visit often?

Would he even be willing to stay together?

Would I ever get over the giant hole it would leave inside me if he said no?

I went through the motions of my usual market routine, trying to pretend everything was normal. At the boulangerie, I bought fresh croissants and a loaf ofpain de campagne,chatting with the Blanchets about the unseasonably dry weather while Lucas carried my purchases without being asked, but still saying nothing.

At the fruit stand, I selected clementines still attached to their stems, lemons for the hollandaise I planned to make for Christmas brunch, and a bag of hazelnuts for the tart I was testing for next week’s menu. Lucas followed me the whole time like a shadow, even as we left the village and walked back to the chateau.

By the time we had crossed the orchard leading back to the front entrance, my anxieties were spinning out of control.

I needed to know what he was thinking. Needed to know if this changed everything between us, if the confession of love that had seemed so important an hour ago meant nothing in the face of this unexpected complication.

“Lucas,” I said, stopping under the pergola just as a light blinked on overhead, a sign that at least one of my family members or Louis was awake. “Please. Say something.”

He turned to face me then, and I was shocked to see tears sliding down his cheeks like raindrops on a window.

Lucas Lyons, who had built a business empire through sheer force of will. Who had never met a problem he couldn’t solve or a deal he couldn’t close. Who had a reputation for being cold, calculating, and emotionally unavailable.

He was crying because of our baby.

“Say something?” His voice was barely audible, choked as it was with emotion. “My God, Marie, I can’t—there aren’t enough words.”

My heart sank like a stone. He looked devastated. Trapped.

The last thing I ever wanted was to be that kind of person in his life. Lucas had had enough of the people demanding everything of him and giving nothing in return. I wouldn’t do that to him. I wouldn’t do that to our child.

“I don’t want anything from you.” The words tumbled out in a rush. “I promise, Lucas, I’m not trying to force you into anything, really. I don’t need money, and?—”

To my surprise, Lucas chuckled, even through the tears he was now dabbing off his cheeks. “Well, that’s good. Considering I have a whole lot less of it to offer.”

I frowned. “What?”

He scrubbed at his face with the back of his hand, and when he looked at me again, his expression was lighter. Joyful, even.

“That’s the other reason it took me so long to come here,” he said, his voice steadier now. “I needed time to finish what I started. Marie, I divested from Lyons Corp. It took months to set everything up, but I transferred my shares to a trust to be run by a non-profit. I had to stay long enough to make sure everything would run smoothly once I was gone.” He held his hands out, broad palms up. “I’m practically penniless.”

I stared at him, certain I’d misheard. “You’rewhat?”

“I gave up the company.”

I stumbled backward, enough that Lucas grabbed my arm.

“I’m fine.” I batted him away, but he didn’t let go. “I just don’t understand. Lucas, why would you do something like that?”

He tipped his head to the side, like the alternative hadn’t even occurred to him. “I had to. It cost me everything when it cost me you.”

I felt like I was walking through quicksand. Like the world around me was blurring together. This couldn’t be real. He wouldn’t have done that. Would he?