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“No! Of course you didn’t. I’m just saying...” I drag a hand through my hair. “I don’t think you’re being honest with yourself. And you’re not being honest with me.”
He crosses arms. He looks as closed off and foreboding as he did that first day in his office. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Part of me wants to back down. To smooth things over, make it easier for both of us.
If I’m walking out of his life five months from now, what’s the point of fighting like this?
But his lies have brought us too close to an emotional cliff. And now I can’t stop myself from shoving us both over the edge.
“You didn’t tell me it had to bemefor your fake marriage plan to work,” I say. “Was that really because you didn’t want me to feel pressured? Or was it because you were worried that if I knew it had to be me, I’d have more bargaining power? And you didn’t trust me not to screw you over.”
Luke’s face goes white. “No. Jesus, Hazel. No. Of course not.”
He’s shocked enough, raw enough, that some distant, logical part of me believes him.
But the emotional part of me is still reeling from the hurt of knowing that even after all we’d been through, he still trusted Cooper way more than he’d ever trust me.
“I know you’ve got good reason not to trust people,” I tell Luke quietly. “But I need you to trustme. You can’t withhold information from me if it affects both of us. You can’t make decisions for me, no matter what your intentions are. Do you get that?”
Luke reaches for me. “I was trying to take care of you.”
I shrug out of his grasp. “Cooper was right. I need more than someone who will take care of me. I need someone who will goddamn trust me.”
I storm away and don’t look back.
It’s not until I’ve slammed a door behind me that I realize I’ve stormed straight into Luke’s bedroom. The fact that this is the place I feel safest feels like a cruel irony. I sit down on the floor and try not to cry.
* * *
I expectLuke to go back to the office. I don’t know what exactly prompted him to leave work in the middle of the day, but it's highly unlike him. I grab a book off the shelf at random, curl up in an armchair by the fireplace, and start reading. I’m determined to hide out until Luke leaves the apartment. I can’t handle seeing his face right now.
But a half hour later, the door handle turns, and Luke trudges into the bedroom, his head hung low. His body is as broad and powerful as ever. But he moves like he’s aged ten years.
He looks like a warrior coming home from a battle he lost.
Then he looks up and sees me. “Hazel.”
“Luke.” I freeze, the book open in my lap.
“I couldn’t find you. I thought you left.” He blinks. “Why are you in my room?”
“I like it,” I say, because I can’t sayI like you.I swallow. “I thought you would go back to work.”
He shakes his head once, fierce. “No. Not when you’re...not when we’re...no.”
Something almost like hope swells in my chest. But I temper it quickly. Luke might care about me now. But he doesn’t trust me enough to even consider that we might last.
He never promised you it would, a mature, fair voice reminds me.
I hate that voice. But I know it’s right.
I knew who Luke was all along, and I went in with my eyes open. He shouldn’t have lied about the reason we had to fake a marriage. But I shouldn't have tricked myself into wanting more than I knew he could give.
“I’m sorry,” Luke says. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the truth. I was trying to protect you. But you’re right. It was wrong.”
I look down at the book in my lap, because his blue eyes are so earnest, so concerned, I’m worried I’ll start crying. It’s not his fault that I’m falling for him.
Because that’s what’s happening. I’m falling for Luke Dewinter.
