Page 102 of Tracking Safety

He looked out at the dark water as something twisted hard in his chest—grief and fury and a tenderness so sharp it hurt. “I’m sorry.”

She tilted her head and gazed up at him with questions in her eyes. “For what?”

“That you were alone for all of it. I was sure I’d gotten the worst of it.” He shook his head. “I didn’t know the half of what you were dealing with.”

“You weren’t supposed to. That was the whole point.” She looked at him. “Dealing with it alone was the one thing I could still do for you.”

Then her gaze dropped to his left hand.

He saw it happen—saw her notice the bare finger where his wedding band used to be, saw something flicker and close in her eyes before she looked away.

She thought she knew what it meant. Of course, he’d taken his ring off. Of course, he’d let go, the way a sensible man would have.

“I don’t wear it,” he whispered.

“You don’t have to explain. I left. You had every right⁠—”

“Jenna.” He reached into his pocket.

He’d carried this since she’d left. He’d told himself a dozen reasons over the months, and not one of them had been the real one. The real one was that he hadn’t been able to set it down.

He opened his hand.

Two rings sat in his palm. His.

And hers.

Jenna went still.

“You left yours on the nightstand,” he said. “The morning I woke up and you were gone, it was sitting there by the lamp. I figured it was supposed to tell me something. That you weren’t coming back. That I should let go.”

She stared at the rings like they might not be real.

“I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t wear mine—it hurt too much to look at. And I couldn’t get rid of either one because that felt like agreeing with you that it was over.” He closed his hand around them. “So I’ve carried them both.”

“Luke.” Her eyes filled with moisture.

“We never divorced. I never filed. I told everyone I hadn’t gotten around to it.” His throat clenched. “That was a lie. I didn’t file because some part of me never stopped believing you’d walk back through that door.”

Jenna looked at him, grief breaking open behind her eyes.

He should put the rings away. He should step back and rebuild the careful distance between them and remember every reason this was complicated.

Despite his logic, he didn’t move.

CHAPTER 42

Jenna knew she should step away from Luke.

Every careful instinct told her to put distance between them, to fold this feeling down.

But she didn’t step back.

She couldn’t seem to make herself want to.

Luke looked at her now the way he used to look at her. How he used to look at her before Chicago caught up with her. Before she walked out of his life. Before their time apart had carved them both into people who flinched at creaking floors.

His face was mostly shadow now, but Jenna didn’t need the light to read him. Standing this close, with the day’s defenses worn down to nothing, she still instinctually could sense his reactions.