“Felicity coddled him too much.” Tom leaned against the shed and blew at the steam spiraling from his coffee mug.
“How did he react?”
He studied her. “When you died?”
Jessica nodded.
“He was devastated. We all were. We’d been drowning in the fear of losing Lake and the news of you was like this goddamn freight train that came out of nowhere, barreling through what was already a shitload of wreckage. Luke was numb for months. He just existed—barely. Then Lake came out of her coma and we had to relive everything again with her: the wedding, her accident, Ben’s death, her leg, your parents, and you. I know people say that God won’t give you more than you can handle, but I think He did. I’m still not sure my boy is okay. He’s scared right now. I see it in his eyes, like any day he could break.”
“Scared of what?”
“You.”
Chapter Forty-Three
Luke suggested leaving a day early. Jessica didn’t argue. The harder she tried to hold it together in front of his family, the more she felt herself falling apart. The events of the previous month taught her one thing: death came in the unsuspecting arms of silence. Luke didn’t speak on the drive home. Even small talk seemed to be too much.
“I’ll take Jones for a walk.” Luke set their bags on the floor.
“Want company?”
His three-second delay said everything. It was the truth before the lie.
“Sure. If you want to.”
Jessica picked up her bag. “Maybe I’ll just unpack.”
“Okay.”
She took her bag to the guest room. The slam of the front door was another stab to her heart. Luke didn’t slam doors. He controlled everything.
After sitting on the edge of her bed, staring at her bag on the floor for almost thirty minutes, she decided not to unpack. Maybe she’d outstayed her welcome.
On her way to the kitchen to get a drink—a real drink—she noticed Luke’s bag on the floor. Leaving things on the floor was also something he didn’t do. What had happened to her Luke?
She grabbed his bag and took it to his room. Tossing it at the end of the bed, she stood there taking in everything that felt so familiar. Why did that familiarity, that comfort, hurt so much? Moving toward the closet like sneaking up on the enemy, she opened the cracked door and the light came on.
“Oh my God,” she whispered.
All of her clothes were exactly where they’d been when she left—when she died.
Jessica died.
Jillian lived.
She loved another.
And Luke never let go.
“I lied.”
Jessica closed her eyes at the defeat in his voice behind her.
“When I told you I’d move on and love again if you died … I lied.”
“Luke,” she whispered.
“I don’t expect anything.”
She turned. Every word he said intensified the pain and flared her anger. “Jesus, Luke … I put on a wedding dress, I went to the church, I didn’t have cold feet, I didn’t even have to think. Being with you was as easy and necessary as breathing.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say or do or—”
“I want you to expect everything and say anything.”
Tension pulled at his brow as he shook his head. “I can’t.”
“We need to talk about AJ.”
“I can’t.” He swallowed, jaw firm, gaze set on the floor between them.
“That picture—”
“Don’t.” He continued to shake his head as his expression hardened. “I can’t.”
With a blink, her tears broke free. Irene wanted to destroy everything dear to Sunny and Knox. She wanted to destroy Jessica. She did. The moment she showed that picture to Luke, she took everything.
They stood a chance if all he had was the idea, the verbal confession that she had loved AJ. But that image would be in his mind forever, eating at him—at them—like a slow death.
“Tell me how you feel.”
“I can’t.” His voice cracked. “It would end us.”
“There is no us! You haven’t touched me since I asked you to in the hospital. You’re miserable and so am I. It can’t get any worse. If we can’t save us, then at least save yourself. If you don’t say what you’re feeling, it will kill you. I can take it. I’m so much stronger than you think I am.”
He said nothing.
“Five minutes.”
Luke looked up.
“I’ll give you five minutes to say everything. Don’t think … just say it. For once don’t protect me. Give me the part of you that hurts the most. And then we’ll never mention any of it again. But what’s happened between us feels worse than any death, and we both need closure.”
She lost him, but even more than that … he lost himself in her. Luke wouldn’t acknowledge her at all. That hurt the most.
“Fine,” she whispered. “Don’t tell me, but please tell someone. Then get rid of my stuff and choose to live because you’re not … not like this.” She walked past him to the bedroom door. Love wasn’t enough … not for Mickey and Sunny, and not for Jessica and Luke.