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I shrug. “Pretty much. Except...” Do I tell him everything? Really lay it on the table?

“Except what?”

“It’s why I broke up with you too. I know my dad did the actual deed, but I had to cut you lose, Luc. I know you. I know you would have given up everything to stay by my side, and I couldn’t let that happen. You deserved to have a life.”

His jaw tightens. “Should’ve let that be my decision.”

“Couldn’t, because I already knew what decision you’d make.”

We stare at each other in silence for a moment, the stack of pancakes going cold between us. He drops his gaze first and clears his throat. “And how are you now? Are you okay?”

I cross my fingers in my lap under the table. “Sure. I have to be careful, but I’m doing great.” Maybe if I say it enough, it will be true.

He picks up his fork and takes another bite of pancakes and chews, thinking. “Why’d you hide that from me now?”

The memory of the embarrassment and shame I felt watching someone walk out on me after finding out about my condition rushes over me. “Other people have decided they don’t want to deal with someone who’s chronically ill. Or they treat me the way my parents do. Either way, it’s always all about my illness. I’m more than Crohn’s disease.”

“Is there anything else I need to know?”

There is, but I’m not ready to talk about everything yet. He knows the most important part. I want to start my new meds—and hope they work so I can start feeling better—before laying everything else on him. Deep down, I’m still worried that if he finds out how bad things can get and how I joined the program for the medical benefits, he’ll throw in the towel.

But there is something I can share, something he can help with. “Sometimes I have flare-ups and when that happens, I have to be on a strict diet. I watch what I eat anyway, but it’s more intense. Sometimes I’ll even lose a bit of weight because of it.”

Lucas reaches across the table, squeezes my hand. “Thank you for sharing.”

And that was it. No interrogation. No barrage of questions. No jumping up to throw out anything in the kitchen that I couldn’t eat. Just a thank you for letting him in, for trusting him.

He leans back in his chair. “So, how about we look at what you need for your job?”

I nearly choke on the water I’m sipping, not having expected such a dramatic shift in topic. “Seriously? I, uh, have a list.”

He smiles. “Of course you do.”

My husband stands and starts clearing the table. If only I could turn back time, have had more faith in him. Things might’ve turned out different. I shake the thought away because that would mean Mason might not exist. No, maybe this was the way it was meant to be all along.

Lucas heads back to the table and offers me his hand to help me to my feet. He places his hands on my hips and I stare into his eyes. Going backward isn’t an option, but I can certainly adapt to the way we move forward. “Actually, I was also wondering if you could help me analyze the two job offerings I received. Not sure which one to go with.”

A smile spreads across his face, the corners of his eyes wrinkling. “Happy to assist.”

“Then we can have a snack.” I wink, then let my gaze drop to his groin.

A deep growl fills the air around us, his pupils dilating instantaneously. “If you keep that up, we may not make it to the store.”

I reach down and cup his dick. “No shopping, no snack. And I haven’t tasted you in years. Don’t wanna keep me waiting longer, do you?”

“No.”

I pat him on the shoulder, then head for the stairs to shower as my husband just stands there, a massive bulge in his pants.

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