Page 8 of I Still Love You

He extends a hand toward bed three. “Take all the time you need. I told Mackenzie I’d call with an update when I had one. I could use a breather after the night we’ve had, but far warning; he’s being an asshole tonight.”

Mason heads toward the waiting room, his shoes squeaking off the shiny hospital floor, and it makes me wonder what happened that Luke ended up in the emergency room. He shoves the door open with his shoulder and sends a smile my way before disappearing.

I’m light on my feet as I make it back over to the curtain. Quiet when I inhale a breath and work up the courage to deal with the one person I never thought I’d see again. When I left Quaint, I made it clear that I was also leaving Luke. Too distracted with personal traumas of my own, it took a long time to realize a day might come when we’d be back in each other’s lives.

I understand now is that moment, and I don’t want to let it pass by without decency. He deserves it after what I did. Without another thought, I move around the curtain and pull it closed, the metal rings scraping the bar they circle. It’s not the same as having a door, but it’s better than nothing.

“Where the hell did you go? I look over, and you’re—Oh, it’s you.” His lip curls, his eyes cold as ice when he drops his head back to rest on the raised bed. “What’d you have to tell them to get me back here so soon? I can’t imagine they would’ve opened a bed for me with a filled waiting room.”

I move to the side of his bed and flatten my back against the wall, steeling my eyes and my heart for whatever he’s about to throw my way when I tell him, “That you’re family.”

His nostrils flare, and he shakes his head like he’s trying to rid his brain of the same memories I’ve been having since bumping into one another outside. Family. Such a heavy word shared between two lovers who planned to spend the rest of their lives together.

A beat of silence passes before he asks, “So, this is where you’ve been? In fucking Texas?”

“Yes, and no,” I mutter. When I left Quaint, I went radio silent. The only people I updated on my whereabouts were my mom and sisters.

There’s a bite in his tone, and it glides over me like sharp nails on a chalkboard, digging in and inflicting discomfort with each word. “What does that even mean?”

I sigh and tuck my hands into my scrub pockets. “I’ve been here and other places, Luke.”

“Where?”

“Does it matter?”

It’s a dumb question because I know it matters. Luke is the kind of guy who thinks everything matters. All the minute details. The way someone’s voice hitches. The reason strands of hair are untucked from a ponytail. The exact movement of an athlete’s arm as he pitches for the forty-ninth time.

Rather than discussing what I’ve done these last two years, I turn the conversation over to him and the little bit I’ve heard since leaving Maine. “A few months after I left, I heard you scored the athlete therapy program at Regional,” I say. “That’s big. I’m happy for you.”

His brows push together, and he squints at me. It pulls at the line of stitches on his forehead, allowing me to see Dr. Boise’s meticulous stitch job. There’s bruising that might last for a few days, but the gash is closed, and he’s no longer dripping blood like a running faucet.

“How?” It comes out clipped. “How can you talk about that so effortlessly after what you did?”

His nasty insult makes the confident side of me shudder with shame. Nibbling on my lip, I kick off the wall. “You know what? Forget it.” I turn on my heel, realizing that no matter what I say, it won’t make it better. He’ll view me as the person who took everything from him forever.

“You’re getting faster at retreating,” he half-laughs. “Go ahead, walk away. ‘Least this time, I’ll be looking forward to it.”

I stop in my tracks and hold my head high. When I twist around, he’s baring his teeth, glaring at me in a way that should knock me on my ass. And it almost does, but I won’t allow him to have the last word. Not when he’s been downright rude to me.

Until now, I’ve been cordial. I wanted to make sure he was okay while keeping my distance, but I won’t stand here and allow him to reprimand me over a choice that I thought was best for me. Over a choice that swarms me with guilt every time I’m reminded of it. Over a choice that hadn’t I made would’ve derailed my entire well-being.

I close the distance, walking the couple of feet it takes to tower over his resting body. “You know what? Screw you and your judgment. You act like I didn’t explain myself to you before I left. Instead of being so goddamn selfish, maybe you should have been understanding. The Luke I knew would’ve been, but I guess that version of you is gone.”

“Don’t act like you know me now.” His nostrils flare again, straightening the slight angle of his nose, and he scoots taller. “How long has it been? Two-ish years? I’m not the same person you left behind.”

“One day, you’re going to have to let what happened go.”

“Will I? You’re the pro when it comes to bailing, when it comes to moving on. Care to give me a few pointers?”

I roll my eyes and move to depart. “I’m not doing this with you.”

An emotionless smile graces his lips. “Nice seeing ya, Lay. Let’s hope this is the first and last time it happens, yeah? Wouldn’t want you to have to face your shit choices.”

His words chisel into me like I’m a piece of wood. Pick, pick, picking at me until a tiny piece of me chips away. I’m quick to rip the curtain back to exit, to get as far away from Luke as possible.

I curve toward the nurse’s lounge to collect my belongings, then stomp my way out of the hospital, appalled for thinking it was a good idea to stay. I swipe away the lone tear that slides halfway down my cheek the second I’m back in the night’s darkness. I fold my legs under my steering wheel and pull the door shut, barricading myself from the realness of the last few hours.

This is why I never offered an olive branch after I left. I didn’t want to see the damage I’d done, didn’t want to know just how detrimental my actions affected him. I’ve been another level of selfish—I know that, but I thought seeing him tonight would have been a step in the right direction, a step toward reconciling and leaving the guilt in the past.

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