I check ahead for Henry, then spot him out on the platform further back. As I wander down the middle of the car, I wonder what the people on here were doing, where they were going, a hundred years ago.
“See?” Luke says behind me with a smile in his voice. “What is there to be scared of?”
I sit on one of the seats, thinking of the trapeze I just swung on, and wonder how to explain it to him. “I think, on the actual subway, I don’t like all the people. I guess it’s the same reason I don’t want to go to the major tourist places. I get anxious around the crowds. People are unpredictable, and sometimes I don’t feel safe—” I cut myself off with a grimace.
I hate talking about this stuff. It feels like a weakness of mine, like some deeply flawed part of who I am, despite the fact that multiple therapists have told me not to think of it that way. But I’ve been anxious as long as I can remember, and very few people have been understanding about it. There were some girls at high school who were especially nasty to me during those times I couldn’t quite keep it together—one particular panic attack comes to mind. Boyfriends and even friends in the past have been exasperated by it. Steph spends a lot of time trying to push me out of my comfort zone, but it’s because she worries I’m missing out on things. She doesn’t know how bad it was for me at high school, and I prefer it that way. Because if shedidknow about that part of my life, she might treat me differently for it.
“I know it’s silly,” I mumble.
“It’s not.” Luke lowers himself onto the seat beside me. “We all have our thing.”
A comforting kind of warmth flows through me at his words. He’s not judging me and that’s… really nice.
His knee nudges mine. “Remember me on the plane? I was terrified.”
Our eyes lock and my heart bumps against my breastbone as I think of the way I took his hand to comfort him, the way I kissed him and made him forget everything. “I remember,” I murmur.
Henry passes outside, waving at us through the window as if we were commuters. Luke and I wave back, watching as he steps onto the next carriage.
“You’re so good with him,” I say, smiling. Then before I can think better of it, I ask, “Do you want kids of your own?”
Luke’s jaw tightens and he sits silent for a moment. “Yes. It’s one of the reasons…” he trails off and I fill in the blanks.
“She didn’t want kids?”
“No.” He lets out a long, weary breath. “It’s not entirely Dena’s fault. I thought I didn’t want kids either. For years I was focused on my career, and it felt like a family would just get in the way of that.” He gives a sad shake of his head. “But as I watched Mike raise Henry, and I got to spend time being Uncle Luke… I love it. I realized I do want kids of my own, but she wasn’t changing her mind. It was just one of many problems between us, but it was the one I couldn’t let go of. I couldn’t give that up for her, and I didn’t want to resent her for it later.”
“That sounds tough.” I can’t imagine being in that position. I’ve always known I want kids one day, when I meet the right guy. My mind unhelpfully points out what a great dad Luke would be, but I tell it toshut upand focus on the conversation. “It must have been hard to go through your marriage ending without your family’s support. I’m sure if you’d told Michael, he would have understood.”
“Yeah, he would have. Probably better than most. That’s the problem.”
“What do you mean?”
Luke sighs. “Mike’s been through a lot over the past few years. His divorce completely wrecked him, and when Mel dragged him through court to fight for custody of Henry, he became a shell of a man. I honestly thought he’d never be happy again.”
I nod. I remember Alex saying something about him being in a bad place when they met.
“But now he is,” Luke continues. “And after everything he’s been through, he deserves to enjoy it without worrying about me and my shit, without… I don’t know, feeling guilty, because my marriage is over when he’s the happiest I’ve ever seen him.” He picks at a loose piece of wicker on the seat between us. “I know it sounds stupid, but I didn’t want to do anything to take away from that.”
There’s a pang in my chest at how selfless that is. “It doesn’t sound stupid,” I murmur. “It sounds like you just want him to be happy. But… you also deserve to be happy.” I reach out and place my hand over his, squeezing. As soon as I feel the warmth of his skin under my palm, I realize touching him was a big mistake.
Suddenly, it’s too quiet down here in this old subway car, without the sound of trains or commuters. There doesn’t even seem to be anyone else in this part of the museum. I don’t know where Henry has gone. Silence stretches between us and my breathing goes shallow, like I can’t suck in enough air. I can feel the weight of Luke’s gaze on me, and when I bring myself to look at him, my pulse skips at the question in his espresso-brown eyes. The corner of his mouth lifts in a tentative smile, and for the first time I notice a small dimple in his right cheek underneath his scruff. I move my gaze over his face, from the chicken pox scar under his left eye, to the bristles along his jaw, until they land on his full lips.
God, he is so unbelievably gorgeous. It takes all my strength to pull my hand away again.
“Harriet…” His voice has a gravelly burr to it that makes my thighs quiver. He inhales to say more when Henry appears in the carriage in a frenzy of excitement.
“Did you guys see the big engine down the end?”
Luke drags his gaze from me to smile at his nephew. “Not yet, buddy. Let’s go.”
Henry dashes off again and Luke stands, reaching for my hand and pulling me up. I try not to notice the way he twines his fingers with mine as we head out of the carriage, the way he doesn’t let go until we are back on the subway platform.
* * *
An hour later,we head out and grab a late lunch, strolling through Brooklyn Heights as we eat. Luke spends the time telling me about the area and Henry shows me some of the places he knows. I’m pleased to have him there as a buffer between Luke and me. Otherwise, who knows what I’d do.
I don’t think my time in the shower last night worked quite as well as I thought it did because, fuck, the force is strong in this one. Every time I look at Luke I’m sure he can tell exactly how I feel. He’s feeling the same things, too—it’s written all over his face. And even though I know that nothing should happen between us, I’m also aware that my self-control is not bulletproof. If Luke were to straight-up tell me he wants me, would I be able to say no?
