His footsteps slowed, but he continued to wander the streets, not paying attention to where he headed. It didn’t matter anymore. He had no place to be and no one to meet. Why did people look to form relationships and fall in love? The suffocating numbness choking him wasn’t worth it. He’d rather have remained alone and not suffered this aching void.
The blare of a car horn startled him, and he saw he’d reached the High Line entrance. It ran all the way up the West Side of the city, from Gansevoort Street in the Meatpacking District to Thirty-Fourth Street, about a mile and a half. On the weekends, he and Jordan would often come to the elevated, park-like walk, built high above the city streets on the historic freight rail line, and walk, enjoying the view of the city and the beautiful gardens planted. He climbed the stairs and wandered down the pathway, letting the crowds push him along. After about fifteen minutes, he spied an open bench and sat, staring at the skyscrapers until they blurred before his eyes.
His cell phone buzzed, and he checked the screen and saw Jordan’s name come up with a picture of him, Jordan, and Sasha underneath. His throat tightened. Fucking hell. He wasn’t some teenage girl crying over a breakup.
“What is it?”
Several people shot him wide-eyed looks, walking a bit faster as they passed by, and he realized his words had come out a bit louder than he’d thought.
“Lucas.”
The strain in Jordan’s voice struck a chord within Luke, and for a moment, he softened, worried that Jordan couldn’t handle the pressure. In his mind, the picture of Jordan holding the other man’s hand refused to disappear, and he once again hardened his heart. “Yes. What do you want?”
“I, um, I’d like to see you, Lucas. Talk to you.” There was a small expulsion of breath, and then Jordan spoke again. “Can we meet? I can come by your place, or you can come over and I’ll make dinner—”
“Stop it.” The only reason Jordan wanted to see him was because he got caught. “There’s nothing to talk about. You let me think you weren’t taking the pills when in fact all the time we were together, you were on drugs. How real of a relationship did we even have if you were high all the time?”
“Is that what you think?”
Luke thought back to the first time he’d spoken to Jordan. The confident, arrogant man all those months ago contrasted sharply with the hesitant, broken voice he now listened to on the other end of the phone. For a moment he let down his guard. “Who was the guy you were holding hands with?”
The phone remained silent, though Luke could hear Jordan’s breath. “He’s a friend.”
“You looked more than friendly to me, the way you two held hands. Who is he? Have you been seeing him while you were also with me?” Luke held his breath, shocking even himself with the question. He’d never before thought to question Jordan’s fidelity, but now that he knew Jordan still used drugs… People did things out of character when they were under the influence.
“Fucking hell, Lucas. No.” Anger vibrated out of the phone, and Luke pictured Jordan’s blue eye spitting fire. He always liked when Jordan became angry, and despite himself a smile tugged at his lips.
“Tash is only a friend. As a matter of fact—”
“Tash? As in my secretary Valerie’s brother, Tash?” Now he knew why the man seemed so familiar. Dr. Sebastian Weber was sophisticated, very good-looking, and gay. Jordan’s type. And suddenly, Luke saw clearly how foolish he’d been to think Jordan could love him. Luke was a product of abuse, foster care, and the streets; Jordan, on the other hand, was one of prep schools, European vacations, and the best of New York City’s glamorous social life. Tash Weber was the perfect partner for him. Add in the fact that he was also a doctor, and the two men had everything in common. Perfect for each other.
“Yes, we met the other night.” Jordan began to explain, but Luke had no desire to listen anymore. Luke might be wise to the ways of the street, but when it came to matters of the heart he was as much of a sucker as a tourist right off the bus in Times Square. And suddenly, Luke needed to speak to the one person in the world who’d always understood him and had never let him down.
“I’m sorry. I have to go.” Without waiting for Jordan to answer, Luke clicked off the phone. He stood and, with determined steps, left the High Line.
* * * *
“Baby doll, you look awful.” Wanda held Luke at arm’s length, searching his face with her dark, knowing eyes. “You wanna talk about it?” They were at the center, where Wanda was checking the supplies to make sure they had enough for the kids to do their art projects.
Luke ducked his head, feeling like a child, as if he’d done something wrong and was waiting to be scolded for it. “I do, but I feel like an idiot.”
“Is it about Jordan?”
Luke looked up sharply. He hadn’t ever really discussed his and Jordan’s relationship with Wanda. “Um, well.”
She grinned. “Oh, come on now. I’m not blind. You and that man had it bad for each other from the start. Every time you saw him, you’d get all grouchy and defensive like a bear. And that poor man was like the walking wounded, waiting for someone to give him a big old hug.”
“I never intended to be serious about him. I thought he was safe, that he wouldn’t mean anything to me.” Luke swallowed heavily. “That I—”
“That you wouldn’t fall in love with him. Right, baby?” Wanda took him in her arms.
He held on to her and nodded against her soft, sweet-smelling shoulder. “I think I made a mistake, and I don’t know how to fix it.”
“But you want to, right? Because you love him.”
“How did you know?” He kept his head down and his arms around her, not ready to face her scrutiny.
“Baby doll, I’ve known since the first day you walked into the shelter that you were lookin’ for that special someone. I watched you grow up, and no one was prouder than me when you graduated college and worked your way up and got that job.” She paused for a moment, and Luke remained silent. He could hear his heart beating and feel the soothing touch of her hands across his back.
