While eating, Lyra spoke casually, "After breakfast, get ready. We're going home."
Lucien paused and looked at her. "Home?"
She understood his confusion and added, "We're going to visit my parents and grandfather. After you woke up, they wanted to see you."
Lucien stiffened slightly.
It felt too soon.
He had barely adjusted to this life, and now he had to face her family. He lowered his gaze, trying to sort through the memories that did not fully feel like his own.
Lyra's grandfather… the head of the Dallas family.
A man with a strong and intimidating presence, yet surprisingly warm toward his family. Especially toward Lucien. He was the one who had insisted on this marriage. Lucien remembered that he had been close to his own grandfather, who had trusted the Dallas family enough to entrust him to them before his death.
The memories came slowly, like fragments.
After Lucien Crossel's mother died, his father, Jeffery Crossel, brought his mistress into the house along with her son, Fred, who was the same age as him. From that moment, his life had turned miserable. Neglect, humiliation, and quiet cruelty became part of his daily life.
It was his grandfather who took him away from that environment and gave him shelter. And before he died, he arranged Lucien's marriage with Lyra, hoping to secure a stable future for him.
Lucien sighed inwardly.
This life had not been easy either.
His thoughts shifted to Lyra's family.
Her grandmother had passed away, but her mother, Lady Dallas, was known for her elegance and grace. She had once treated Lucien kindly, almost like her own son. But the original Lucien, shaped by his painful upbringing, had kept his distance. He never accepted her warmth and addressed her coldly. Over time, even she had stepped back.
Then there was Lyra's father, Johnson Dallas.
A man feared in the business world. The one who built the Dallas empire. Even in memory, his presence felt heavy.
But strangely, Lucien could not clearly remember his face.
It was blurred.
He frowned slightly.
Maybe it was because of the overlapping memories.
Lost in thought, he did not notice Lyra watching him closely.
She could see the hesitation in his eyes.
"Relax," she said softly. "You don't have to overthink it. If you don't want to go, we won't."
Lucien immediately shook his head. "No, I want to go."
He hesitated for a moment before continuing, "It's just… I only regained my memories yesterday. There are still things I can't remember clearly. I don't want to embarrass you in front of your family."
Lyra looked at him, then chuckled lightly.
"You're worrying too much," she said. "They already know about your condition. And my family isn't that dramatic."
She leaned back in her chair and added, "So stop thinking and get ready."
Lucien looked at her for a moment, then nodded quietly.
Lyra was already waiting downstairs when Lucien came down after getting ready.
The moment she saw him, she went still.
He looked completely different.
The burgundy suit fit him perfectly, sharp and clean without being flashy. His black hair was neatly styled, and the watch on his wrist added a quiet elegance to his appearance. Everything he wore was expensive, but nothing about it was loud. It was controlled, refined.
But what caught her off guard was not the outfit.
It was him.
The way he walked toward her, straight back, steady steps, head held high. There was a natural authority in his presence, something calm yet powerful. For a moment, he did not look like the Lucien she knew. He looked like someone who had once stood above others.
Lyra stared at him longer than she intended.
"You look good," she said finally.
Lucien smiled lightly. "Thank you."
They held each other's gaze for a moment before Lucien suddenly snapped out of it.
"We should go," he said quickly. "We're already late. And we still need to get gifts. I haven't prepared anything yet."
There was a hint of panic in his voice.
Lyra watched him, amused.
This was new. The old Lucien never cared about things like this. He never considered her family as his own. He barely made an effort to act like a proper son in law.
But now, he was worried about being respectful.
She stepped closer and took his hand. "Relax. I already prepared everything."
He frowned slightly. "You should have told me earlier. This is my responsibility too. I don't want to look insincere in front of your family."
Lyra paused, surprised by his seriousness.
He really meant it.
After a moment, she said, "Fine. Next time, you can handle it. For now, let's just go. We shouldn't keep them waiting."
Lucien nodded. "Of course. Let's go."
They left together.
During the drive, Lucien stayed quiet, his thoughts restless. The closer they got, the more anxious he felt.
Inside the Dallas residence, everyone was already waiting.
Lyra had informed them about his condition, about the memory loss and the changes. Her grandfather and mother had been worried, despite everything that had happened before. To them, Lucien was still family, even if he had never fully accepted them.
There was also someone new present. A young woman stood beside Johnson Dallas, observing quietly.
When the car stopped outside, Lucien hesitated.
His hands felt cold.
Memories from his past life surfaced without warning. His former mother in law had made his life unbearable. What should have been a place of warmth had turned into a place of humiliation. He had once longed for a mother, only to be met with rejection.
He exhaled slowly.
This was different.
He knew it.
But the fear remained.
Sensing it, Lyra gently squeezed his hand. "Relax," she said softly.
That small gesture grounded him.
He nodded, and they stepped inside together.
As soon as they entered, everyone stood up.
Lady Dallas's eyes immediately fell on their joined hands, and a soft smile appeared on her face.
She walked toward them without hesitation.
"You're here," she said warmly, taking Lucien's hands into hers. "We've been waiting."
Lucien felt something loosen in his chest.
Her tone was gentle. There was no judgment in her eyes.
Before she could say anything more, he stepped back slightly and bowed deeply.
"Greetings, Mother."
The room fell silent.
Everyone froze.
Lyra stared at him in shock.
The old Lucien had never done something like this. He barely greeted them properly, let alone show this level of respect.
Lady Dallas was equally stunned for a moment, but she quickly composed herself. She reached out and helped him straighten up.
"You don't need to be so formal," she said softly.
Then she pulled him into a hug.
Lucien hesitated for a second before returning it. A small, genuine smile appeared on his face.
For the first time, it felt… warm.
After that, she guided him forward.
"Come, greet your grandfather."
Lucien bowed again, just as respectfully.
The old man laughed heartily. "You've really changed, boy. I like this version of you."
Then he gestured toward the man standing behind him.
"Go greet your father."
Lucien stepped forward.
At first, he could not see him clearly, as his grandfather blocked part of the view. But as he moved, the man's face came fully into sight.
And Lucien froze.
His entire body went still.
His eyes widened slightly, locked onto Johnson Dallas's face.
Everyone noticed the sudden change.
They followed his gaze, confused.
It was just Johnson Dallas.
So why did Lucien look like that?
Even Johnson himself was surprised.
Lady Dallas frowned slightly and shot her husband a look, silently telling him to soften his expression. He was known for his cold and intimidating presence, after all.
Johnson tried to ease his expression, preparing to speak.
But before he could say anything, Lucien still stood there, unmoving, as if something had just shaken him to his core.