Page 117 of After We Fall

My breath catches, the fear now hitting my bloodstream and running through my veins. “This?” I whisper.

“I’m sorry, Penelope,” he says matter-of-factly. “I can’t do this. I can’t do you and me. I think you’re a good woman. I’m sorry about your injury. I wish you the best in your recovery. But I can’t be with you anymore.”

His declaration rips through me, and I’m paralyzed. I simply stare.

“I wasn’t ever supposed to do this,” he says, pacing, his voice picking up urgency. “It was supposed to be Robert and me.” He pounds his chest. “We could pick up and go anywhere, at any time, wherever we’re needed.”

Luke the panther stalks back and forth, his tail swiping anything that gets in its path. I’m in the room, but I’m not even sure Luke is talking to me.

He stops and scrubs his hands over his face. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“You don’t know what you were thinking?”

“I don’t know . . . I was in the Springs for a few days, it was Thanksgiving, I felt a little . . . lonely. And you needed help.”

The panther’s tail swipes at me, hitting me square in the chest for asking for help the first time with the wedding.

“Harlan asked me to stay. So I did a friend a favor. Then you called from the hospital and said you needed me. So I thought, ‘Okay, she needs me here. I can be here.’”

This tail swipe knocks me off-balance for asking for help the second time.

“I stayed too long in Colorado Springs, finding those doctors. I thought I could help you.”

Gaining strength with its momentum, this swipe all but levels me for allowing him to help in my recovery.

I shake my head quickly. “I-I could have—” What? What could I have done differently? Not asked for help? Not accepted his help? If I’ve learned anything over the last month, it’s that asking for help is healthy. Necessary. “I don’t understand, Luke. I asked for help. We grew close. Why is that a bad thing? Why—”

“Because I all but ignored Robert!”

“You said he was hard to get ahold of,” I whisper, my unease almost choking me.

“He took me under his wing. Practically made me into the man I am today. And I have done nothing over the last month but be distracted by you. I put off calling him,” he roars. The panther is unleashed. His sharp teeth bared. Every word dripping with pain. “Not only that, but while I was getting carried away with you—”

Getting carried away with me . . .

“—I didn’t even know he was dying. I ignored all the warning signs. In our spotty communication, he talked about not feeling well. Being tired. Mentioned a doctor’s appointment. And I didn’t follow through with him about it.” He slices a hand through the air. “He kept postponing trips. Told me not to visit him. That he was okay. So I stayed away. I stayed away because I wanted to be with you. And now he’s gone.”

I clutch the side of a chair, regaining my balance after the last blow, when Meredith’s words from earlier whisper to me. “Grief can be confusing, Penelope. It does really awful things to people.”

“He’s gone, and I’ve got to continue his legacy. We fly and spread our wings.” He outstretches his arms. “Spread our gifts wide and long, he once told me.”

I clear my throat. “And what about the ranch?”

“Not my circus, not my monkey.” His harsh words slice through me. “I was hired to do a job. I did it. Now I have to move on.”

I take a breath, pushing through the punch he just threw. “Bianca came to the service today.”

“I know.”

“She said she came because this is what you do for family.”

He has the decency to flinch at my statement but says nothing more.

Lean in.

“You’re a hypocrite,” I whisper.

He pauses, eyes blazing.“Excuse me?”