Boyfriend Let His Side Chick Ruin My Painting, Now He Regrets. novel Chapter 7

Lucas' head snapped up, a flicker of hope igniting in those tired eyes.

"Really? Where?"

I smirked.

"In my studio. The one hanging right across from the door. Ring any bells?"

His face turned ghostly pale.

I tilted my head, watching him. 

"I did leave one behind. But I never expected someone to break into my studio and destroy it."

"After all, when you let Victoria stay over, you swore she'd only be in the guest room."

"But at the end of the day, it was just a worthless painting. Who cares if it's gone?"

"No!" Lucas suddenly yelled. Then, under my startled gaze, his voice weakened.

"No… it wasn't just a worthless painting. It was the one you painted of the day we first met…"

I shrugged. "Alright, if you say so."

Lucas stared at me in disbelief as I yawned.

"I'm tired. Mind moving?"

The next morning, my professor asked me to drop off some documents for her.

In a rush, I opened the door-only to jump back at the sight of a shadowy figure standing outside.

I frowned.

"Lucas? Why are you still here?"

Lucas looked down. "You told me… home is wherever we are together."

"If you don't want to be with me, then I'll just follow you instead."

Seeing him step closer, I shoved him away.

He stumbled, hitting his elbow hard against the metal railing, leaving a long, bloody scrape.

"Hss-"

I glanced at the time, sighed, then turned back inside to grab some rubbing alcohol and gauze.

I tossed them at him.

Lucas ignored his injury, his face lighting up.

"Chloe, I knew it. You still care-"

Alexander gave me a playful wink. "Chloe, it's getting late. Let me walk you home." 

Not wanting to make the professor worry, I nodded. 

Alexander was a talker, filling the walk with stories about local customs and culture.

When we reached my door, he suddenly pointed at the ground, frowning. 

"Chloe, this doesn't look safe." 

I glanced down at the pile of cigarette butts. 

It almost made me laugh. When did Lucas start smoking? 

Since that night, Lucas hadn't shown up again. 

Meanwhile, Alexander and I kept crossing paths-after all, we were in the same research group. 

Over time, I realized we didn't just click when it came to art-we had a lot of other things in common, too. 

My life settled into an easy rhythm.

But on the fifth time Alexander walked me home, we ran into someone unexpected. 

Lucas.