Page 46 of Promise You Forever

“Of falling in love with you. The possibility of losing you. Betraying Amy’s memory by loving you in a way profoundly different than I loved her.”

She angrily swipes a tear away. “You can’t say things like that.”

“It’s the truth.”

“What if I let you in and you hurt me all over again?”

I shake my head. “That will never happen.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Because I’m a different person now. I’ve let myself grieve instead of holding onto the guilt and shame.”

“What guilt? It was an accident.”

“I should have made her stay at the hospital. Instead, I let her come home thinking I could take care of her. Maybe she wouldn’t have died if she’d been monitored overnight. We’ll never know, but I realize that my choice to support her choice didn’t cause her death. I don’t have to punish myself for the rest of my life because of it.”

“I’m glad you figured all that out, I really am. But it doesn’t change the fact that you hurt me.”

“I get that, but then why have sex with me?”

“Emotions were high.” She throws her arms out.

“Exactly. You came to me for comfort. Because deep down you know you can trust me, even if you don’t want to.”

“Sometimes sex is just sex, Luke. We got caught up in the moment.”

“Sex is never just sex for you and me. You know that better than anyone.”

Her lips form a firm line as she strides past me and up the stairs. Charlie looks back and forth between her and me but ultimately chooses Eli. I roll my shoulders, trying to work out the tension as I walk back to the patio door and look out into the darkness of the ranch.

I didn’t want to fight with her. It was always a possibility, maybe even a likelihood, that she would freak out after last night. That doesn’t change the fact that it hurts.

Advice from my therapist comes back to me, telling me to write all my feelings out, so I can look at them from another perspective. I go up to my room and pull my journal out, sitting down to get it all out.

Twenty minutes goes by, and I’m still restless. I look to the closet where a bag of yarn and knitting needles have sat unused for several months. One night almost a year ago, after a particularly hard week of therapy, Jo was knitting by the fireplace and suggested I try it. She said it always helped her keep her mind distracted. So, over the course of the next few weeks, she’d stay up after getting Paul to bed and teach me. We had some of our best conversations those nights.

She and my therapist are the only people who know about my late-night hobby. It’s not that I’m embarrassed by it, it’s just that I’d have to tell people how I came to start doing it. That entails opening up emotionally, something I’m still not great at doing beyond those closest to me. I’d tell Janey or the guys, but I don’t want them to worry about me more than they already do.

I stand and walk over to the closet, pulling the canvas tote out of the back corner. The bag once belonged to Jo, and as I pull it out, the scent of her perfume hits me. It’s a gut punch that I let myself feel, making an effort to acknowledge my feelings of grief and sadness instead of pushing them deep down inside me.

After I’ve given myself a moment, I toss the bag on the bed and turn some quiet music on. It takes a few minutes before I get back into the groove of knitting. Muscle memory takes over, and the sound of knitting needles clinking quietly soothes my anxiety.

A little after eleven I hear a quiet knock on my door. I don’t have time to hide away my knitting, so I stay where I am and tell Eli she can come in. Her eyes grow comically wide as she looks at the half-completed blanket stretched over my legs and needles in my hands.

“Are you knitting?”

“Is that what this is?” I ask, feigning confusion.

She rolls her eyes at my joke. “Obviously.”

“Yeah, it helps me calm down when my anxiety is high. Jo actually taught me.”

Her expression softens at the mention of her grandmother. “I still have the baby blankets she knitted for me when I was a baby. They’re back in LA.”

“I’d love to see them sometime.” I get to the end of a row and set the blanket aside. “What’d you need?”

“Not to sound too needy, but I’m nervous about letting Charlie out at night by myself. I’m scared of something like last night happening again. Would you mind coming with us?” She bites her lips nervously.

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