The banter was natural...warm, and kept me on my feet as we drifted into the house. Luke had spent much of our time in the hospital dozing, but I hadn’t slept a wink. It was a state of affairs I’d grown used to in recent months, but somehow knowing Morgan Benson was in custody, at least for the next fewhours, had left me weak at the knees.
Fran was in the kitchen, packing shopping away into Luke’s fridge. She gave him a cautious hug, eyeing me over his shoulder.
I eyed her right back. Our brief exchange in the hospital had been nothing more than horrified exclamations. Other than that, we hadn’t spoken in years. Not since I’d turned up on her doorstep and screamed abuse at her for drivingthe love of my life away. God, I was such abitch.
Fran let Luke go and gently sent him off to the sofa. Then she came to me, and her hand on my arm didn’t feel as strange as I might’ve imagined. “How are you doing, sweetie? Can I get you anything? Tea? Something to eat?”
It was early evening and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten, but I shook my head. Having Fran run around afterme was too weird, even for a day like this. “I’m good, thanks.”
“Sure about that?”
“Yup.”
Fran sighed. “It doesn’t have to be this way, you know.”
“What?”
“Between us. Honey, Luke loves you so much, it would mean the world to me if we could get to know each other again.”
The permanence of her statement hit me in soft waves. It had been a while since I’d last doubted howmuch Luke loved me, but until now, perhaps I hadn’t stopped long enough to consider what it meant. A new life in Rushmere had been my last resort, my worst nightmare come true, but I couldn’t imagine a world without him by my side. The decade we’d spent apart seemed as though it belonged in someone else’s life.
I squeezed Fran’s hand. “I’d like that.”
After she’d gone, I tracked Luke throughthe house and found him upstairs rather than in the living room. He was stripping the clothes the hospital had sent him home in—they’d cut his jeans away. The sun was setting, casting a shadow across Luke’s bedroom. I didn’t get a good look at his torso until I was a foot away from him.
I stopped dead, caught in the vortex of the vicious bruising marking Luke’s body. Black and blue, skin tornand grazed, it was hard to imagine how he hadn’t been killed.
A gasp lodged in my throat as he turned to face me. The bruise over his broken ribs was even worse, but he was with me before the scream escaped my lungs, kissing me, holding me, whispering soothing nonsense in my ears until I realised the wretched sobbing surrounding us was coming from me.
