Lucas’s eyes close briefly in relief. I’m relieved too.
When I stopped speaking years ago, I thought it was entirely voluntary. I thought I could start again at any time. But then when I realized that I wanted to talk to Lucas in our cell, I found it so hard. I still find it hard way too often.
I try to eat the pizza, but I’m not really hungry, and I don’t like greasy, heavy things anymore. I used to. I used to like and do a lot of things that seem foreign now.
Would the person I used to be fit better at this table? Maybe. I don’t know. I try to imagine it. My old self, sitting here. I would be arguing with Vitali about cleanup. I’d be needling Quinn, trying to get under his skin to get a reaction. He wouldn’t like me. Sasha wouldn’t like me either.
I was an asshole.
I definitely wasn’t someone who could have been with Lucas. He would’ve avoided me.
I frown, not liking the thought.
Lucas gets up from the table and goes to the fridge. When he pulls out one of the chicken and rice bowls that he made the other day when I wouldn’t eat, I get up, but he puts it in the microwave before I get there.
I come to stand behind him. “Go eat,” I tell him quietly.
“You’re gonna eat something,” he replies. He’s also quiet, but he’s sharp. I’m upsetting him.
“Okay. I will. Go eat.”
He turns toward me and wraps his arms tightly around me. He buries his face against my chest.
“Iloveyou,” he whispers forcefully.
Some of the tightness inside me eases. I feel myself settle into the present. I stroke his hair. “I love you too.”
He draws away from me and goes to the island, where he grabs another slice of pizza and carries it to his plate.
When the microwave chimes, I take out the bowl. It’s hot but not so hot that I can’t hold it. I grab a spoon from the drawer and return to the table.
I can tell Lucas is watching me from the corner of his eye, so I start eating. Lucas relaxes. Everyone relaxes, including me.
***
Lucas and I are in the downstairs gym lifting weights. He’s not happy about it because he thinks I’m injured, but I’m not. Bruises aren’t injuries, and I don’t want to stiffen up. You never know when the next fight will be. Vitali says the DiMaggios are finished, but conflict is built into this life.
Besides, I really don’t like that enemies came into this house. I can’t trust it anymore. I’ve barely let Lucas out of my sight for two days.
I know that things were in place to keep him safe. Sasha. The contingency plans that Vitali had alreadyworked out with her and Quinn. I know nothing happened to him.
But I need him where I can see him.
That’s one reason that I’m watching him in the wall of mirrors. The other reason is that it helps me avoid seeing myself. I thought I’d gotten over my aversion to my reflection, but it’s obvious, sitting here on the bench, that I haven’t. I hate these fucking mirrors. They’re standard for a space like this, but they’re one of the reasons, I realize now, that I prefer the punching bag and sparring mats.
Something about my face bothers me.
But it’s my body that Lucas is worrying over. I keep catching his eyes on me. I’ve taken to wearing a t-shirt because the bruises upset him so much, but he’s staring like his eyes can x-ray through the white fabric.
At my light grunt, he gets back to work on his shoulder press. I watch him for a second, then I get up and walk behind him. I take hold of his wrists and correct his form.
He finishes his set and lowers the weights to his thighs. “You’re oddly particular about some things,” he says, sounding amused.
“You could hurt your shoulder,” I tell him. I’ve told him that before.
His amusement vanishes. He scowls at me via the mirror. I almost walk away because I know this is about the bruises, but I don’t like the idea of walking away from him. As I stay, as I wait, his expression changes. The anger dissolves into something else.Watching it happen, especially through the indirectness of the mirror, makes me see how anger can hide something else. Lucas isn’t really angry. He’s scared.
It doesn’t matter that the danger has passed. He’s still thinking about what could have happened. I pet his hair to soothe him, but it just makes him more upset. I take the weights from him and set them on the floor.
