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He comes over and sits on the bed, the mattress dipping down as he settles into place.
“I remember you talking about it. How’s your sister?”
The genuine concern knitted through his brows surprises me. Beyond all the…passion surrounding last night, Luke does seem to actually care.
I’m not sure how to handle that, being the relationship reject that I am.
“She’s…” I try to think of some nice way to put it, a gentle way of explaining the way we’ve all been feeling leading up to this procedure. “Not fucking great.”
A sarcastic chuckle leaves me, and I slump into myself.
“When someone you love is sick, even though they may not be your child, it’s staggering how much constantly worrying exhausts you.”
Luke’s hand comes to my shoulder, and I look over at him. There’s an interesting mixture there playing out on his face.
I can see understanding, which is rare, and also a familiar level of leftover dread, the kind that haunts you even after the immediate danger has passed.
“I remember when we were on deployment.” Luke steadies himself with a breath, and I freeze, not wanting any subtle movement to disrupt this moment of unburdening for him. “My oldest brother, Jay, he was hurrying our unit out of the line of fire, walking in front of me and Dom. Cam was up ahead, flagging us down so we’d know where to reach safety.”
His eyes go unfocused, and his tone goes flat.
Luke is just recalling right now. He’s not truly here, not in the room.
“Shots came in, and Jay ran in front of a woman who was carrying her child. He blocked the bullets with his damn body. Most of them hit his armor, didn’t take him down. But one, one of those fuckers managed to tear straight through his knee. He lost that leg.”
Now, I’m the one stroking Luke’s shoulder, but I think I know what he’s getting at.
“Being in the hospital with him, and I’m sure to a degree how my brothers felt when I was being patched up by you, it was one of the worst feelings of my life. I didn’t know if Jay would make it, and there were months of recovery for him. Those were actually worse. He was so messed up after. I’m still not sure the guy really ‘made it.’ He’s…fuck, he’s even more of a grump now than when we went in, which is saying something.”
When he looks back at me, I offer a tight smile. It’s all sympathy, a nonverbal yeah, it sucks.
“I’m sorry, Luke.” I take his hand. “I don’t know what war is like, but that, that waiting for someone to be okay and then always wondering if it’s going to change at any moment. That, I understand.”
We stare at each other for a moment, connected by our mutual understanding of medical trauma.
There’s a bit of quiet as we clasp hands in the moment, and just holding that space for the other person is all either of us really need.
“Well.” Luke pulls me up to my feet. “Breakfast is ready, and it’s getting cold.”
I laugh softly. “Okay, let’s go.”
We walk out to the kitchen, and I see that Luke has set up two plates at the island. There’s some scrambled eggs and toast.
A classic.
“Thank you.” I give Luke a kiss on the cheek. “Looks great.”
He follows me to sit down and raises his brows as he scoffs a little.
“Well, it’s hard to fuck up eggs. As long as you don’t burn them. And you know, I think I managed to save most of them.”
“Ha!” I smile wide; being around his easy sense of humor is wonderfully disarming. “I’m sure it’ll be great.”
We chat for a little while as we’re eating, touching on movies and music, TV, and even memories of school.
We both agree that a good action flick is way better than any rom-com, but I have to put Luke in his place when he says today’s alternative songs suck.
“You just haven’t heard the right ones! Don’t listen to that radio crap.”
