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“You mean so much to me too,” I murmur, admitting it, looking up at him. “You were the only thing holding me up, Luke.” I lose control of my vocal chords, my voice cracking. “I just feel so guilty.” I drop my head, my strength, if there was any left, beaten.
“Oh, fucking hell,” he breathes, gathering me into his arms and squeezing the life out of me. I relax straight into his hug again, feeling so safe and warm, hearing his heart thrum under my ear. “I don’t want to make your life any harder than it already is.”
“You’re not.” I sniff. “You make it easier to bear. That’s what’s screwing with my head.” I sniffle back my emotion, trying to clear my throat. “The guilt is because I feel like I need you, and it’s so wrong. I should never have depended on you so much. It wasn’t fair for you or Billy.”
Luke’s chest expands, his arms constricting around me. “Do you need to go home right now? Can we go somewhere quiet? Just to talk?”
“I don’t want to talk about any of it,” I admit.
“I think we need to.” He says what needs to be said, so softly. Shifting me into his side, he cuddles me close to him. And, God, how I have missed being held. Cuddled. Cared for. “Come on.”
We walk in comfortable silence to a small lounge bar nearby, and Luke chooses a little table at the back where it’s quiet. He helps me out of my coat and pulls a chair out for me. I note the low lighting, pointlessly hoping it hides my blotchy skin and welling eyes. And I’d thought I had no tears left. How wrong I was.
He goes to the bar and orders two drinks, both Scotch, and brings them over, sitting down opposite me and handing me my glass. He lets me take a quiet sip before pulling his chair around to sit closer to me, taking my drink from my grip and holding my hand. “Why didn’t you tell me what was going on in your life? I feel fucking awful, Lo.”
“That’s just it. If you knew, you would have joined everyone else and killed me with sympathy. You’re the only person who didn’t look at me like they felt sorry for me. I know you suspected something wasn’t right, but you told me you wouldn’t ask, and you didn’t. You treated me like a normal person. You made me forget my reality. I know it was wrong, but . . .” I pause, not knowing how else to explain it. “You were just there, and I liked you there. And yet, that made me feel so guilty.”
Luke breathes out, sliding his hand onto the back of his neck and massaging. “I thought you were in an abusive marriage.” His eyes clench shut. “How miserable and withdrawn you were when I met you, it was the only explanation I could think of. I never imagined this.” Luke takes what looks like a much-needed swig of Scotch, and I watch him as he seems to slip into thought, staring out of the window into the darkness. Quiet. And now it’s uncomfortable, my head spinning all kinds of conclusions on his thoughts.
“I’ll understand if you don’t want to be my friend anymore.” The words eat me up inside. This past week has been so wretched without him. But I’ll understand if he doesn’t want anything to do with me and my misery anymore. Why would he? He’s not a care in the world. And given he was at Radio Rooftop tonight, he was probably trying to find another early-twenties one-night stand to have fun with. Getting on with his carefree life. A pain shoots through my stomach at that thought, but I don’t completely understand why.
Luke’s glass hits the table, and he turns to me, taking both of my hands and holding them on his knees. “Nothing’s changed for me,” he tells me through gritted teeth. “Now I understand. I care about you so much. It’s nonsensical, I get that, but there was a reason I was driving the car that nearly ran you down.” His speech is so sincere; it brings on another wave of emotion that collects at the backs of my eyes. “That night, you didn’t want to be here, did you?”
The tears fall, and I confess, confirming his conclusion with a jerky shake of my head. “For a split second, it seemed like the easiest option.”
My admission makes his lips twist with agony, and he pulls me onto his lap and swaths me in his body, burying his face into my neck. “Promise me you’ll never think like that again,” he orders roughly. “Promise me now.”
“I promise.” It’s the easiest promise I’ve ever made. And that in itself is strange. Two years ago, I made a promise to another man to love and cherish him for the rest of our lives. That, too, was an easy promise because I knew I’d love Billy forever. And yet with Luke, whose friendship I treasure beyond words, my promise was instant as well. I couldn’t ignore the plea in his words. I can’t ignore how deeply thankful I am for him, and for fate once again bringing him onto my path.
