Chapter 222: Who's the Real Jerk?

Riding leisurely on her bicycle along the pedestrian path, the gentle breeze brushed against her face, soft and tender—just like his hand grazing her skin, a touch that left her feeling serene and comfortable. 

He had been gone for over half a month now. She wondered what his situation was like. Surely, he had gone to find Blaine Jackson, and Blaine must have told him everything. How did he react? Was he relieved that she had been clever enough to disappear, or was he frantically searching for her? 

Her heart ached. She missed him so much. 

She couldn't even remember how much determination it took that morning to leave him. Since waking up the next day, the tears had not stopped. 

Returning to her hometown, she locked herself in the house for a whole week. When she finally ventured out, her face was so pale that Mr. Lin, the doorman, nearly panicked and called an ambulance. 

"Claire, you're finally back!" Mr. Lin's voice jolted her out of her thoughts, and Claire suddenly realized she had unknowingly returned to her apartment complex. 

"Yes, Mr. Lin. I just went for a long ride," Claire replied, forcing a smile as she stepped off her bike and walked it past the driveway toward the building. 

"Claire, someone came by your apartment earlier. They looked rich—drove a car so fancy and shiny, I couldn't stop staring. And the man, wow, he was so handsome, better-looking than those TV stars!" Mr. Lin was practically spitting with enthusiasm, but Claire was utterly confused. 

"Someone came to my place?" she asked. She had no relatives, and her old school friends were out of touch. Who could possibly come looking for her? And—a very handsome and wealthy man? Could it be him? "Mr. Lin, where is that person now?" 

Her voice trembled slightly, but the urgency was unmistakable. 

"Oh, you just missed him. He drove off, headed toward the highway. I think he might've gone home," Mr. Lin guessed. 

"Gone?" Disappointment washed over her, replacing the fleeting hope that had lit up her heart. 

"Yeah, he said he was here to take you home. I asked him who he was—told him kidnapping was illegal. Then he said he was your husband! Can you believe that? Scared me half to death." 

"What? He... he really said he was my husband?" Could it really be him? 

"Yep, clear as day. I told him even a husband can't just grab someone and go. He waited for you for over an hour, but I think he got scared when I said I'd call the police if he caused trouble." Mr. Lin seemed quite pleased with himself. 

"You said you'd call the police on him?" Claire felt three imaginary lines of frustration slide down her face. 

"I was just bluffing! How was I supposed to know he'd actually leave?" Mr. Lin shook his head. 

"Did he say anything else?" Surely, he wouldn't just leave like that. 

"He said he'd looked for you in a lot of places before finally finding this one, thinking he'd find you here. But who'd have thought you were out?" Mr. Lin paused before leaning in conspiratorially. "Claire, is that man really your husband? He's so handsome and rich! If your dad knew you married someone like that, he'd be over the moon." 

"Uh... I don't know who he is, Mr. Lin. I'm heading back now." Mumbling an excuse, she quickly pushed her bike away. 

Darn it! She was furious—so mad at herself! Why did she have to go out? And why for so long? Now she'd missed seeing him. And Lucas Zeller! If he'd really come to find her, why didn't he wait longer? Waiting just an hour before leaving—what was that supposed to mean? Did he even really want her back, or was he here to hand her divorce papers? 

Her hand trembled as she fumbled with the key to her apartment door, unable to unlock it. Frustrated, she kicked the door twice, only to hurt herself and burst into tears. 

*Claire Grace, you were the one who left him. So why are you so upset now?* 

A small voice in her mind questioned her actions. 

Yes, she was the one who walked away. What right did she have to be angry at him? 

But what could she do? She regretted it—regretted going out and missing the chance to see him. 

"Ugh! This is so infuriating!" Claire banged her fists against the door and yelled, "Lucas Zeller, you jerk! You came all the way here and didn't even wait to see me? I hate you! I hate you, I hate—" 

"Have you finished yelling?" 

A deep voice suddenly echoed behind her. 

Claire froze, her entire body stiffening like a statue. 

"And who's the real jerk here?" Lucas stepped closer, placing one hand against the door above her head and leaning in. His piercing dark eyes locked onto hers, his gaze intense and unrelenting. 

"Disappearing on me again and again, making me feel like a fool. When you're in the mood, you sweet-talk me; when you're not, you push me away. Claire, do you think I'm some toy you can toss aside when you're bored?" His tone was nonchalant, but the tension in his voice betrayed the emotions roiling within. 

Claire took a shaky breath, unable to turn around and face him. She couldn't utter a single word, though her tears blurred her vision. She had wanted nothing more than to throw herself into his arms the moment she heard his voice. 

But she couldn't summon the courage. She didn't know why he had come. If he was here to give her divorce papers, wouldn't her desire to hold him be utterly ridiculous? 

She was the one who insisted on leaving, yet now she was the one who wanted to hold him. Even she couldn't understand her own feelings.