Page 27 of Unexpected

“It’s not a problem. Let me take you.”

“Luke.”

“Hazel.”

“Fine. Okay,” I reluctantly agreed only to get him to stop arguing with me.

“But I need to ask…” Luke began as I stared at his hand that had slid down my wrist and was gripping my hand. “What the hell is going on, Hazel?” I wanted to entwine our fingers—his thick fingers wrapped around mine. But his question was the one question I was hoping he wouldn’t ask (okay, maybe not the only one).

“What do you mean?”

He huffed and laughed humorlessly. “You don’t strike me as the type of person to get drunk alone at a bar and need a ride for no reason. I know we don’t know each other that well, but I have eyes and I know you well enough that I have a good feeling something is up. So, that being said, what the hell happened yesterday after I left?”

My whole body tensed as my mind was screaming at me tolie, lie, lie, LIE!

“Nothing happened. I just wanted a drink but got carried away, it happens to the best of us.”

The lies used to sour on my tongue. Each time I would find myself in a situation where it was necessary, I would taste it for days afterward. Getting physically sick was also an awful side effect, but I had become so good at half-truths and omitting information that it no longer tasted off but felt more comfortable than the truth.

Luke didn’t respond. His eyes held mine, and as much as I wanted to, I couldn’t look away. He had his ideas about what might be happening, I could see it written on his face: doubt, confusion, concern and judgment. His touch that just seconds ago felt somewhat comforting had begun to spoil, and I felt the unshed tears gathering in the corner of my eyes.

“Was it because of me?” he said in a quiet voice. His grip on my hand tightened and he began rubbing small circles on the back of my hand. Goose bumps appeared over my arms at the intimacy in the motion of his finger. I wanted to believe him holding my hand was an act of care or concern, but the doubt that it was all a farce was overwhelming and a tactic to keep me in that spot.

A deep pit in my stomach opened as he neared closer to the truth. His eyes urged me to talk.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” My voice was small and pathetic and by the look on Luke’s face, he didn’t believe me. I had let him get too close—I got too close to him—and he was beginning to piece it together. I didn’t know when that had happened, but it was my life to live. This was on me.

“Hazel, I’ve seen…” He trailed off and looked away from me, finally freeing me from his intense gaze and judgment-laden eyes. “I’ve seen the bruises; I’ve heard how he speaks to you. Just… did me being there cause an argument?”

I wished that pit in my stomach would open even wider so I would also fall in. My mind raced, my eyes flicking back and forth between Luke’s as I tried to come up with a way out of the situation. I didn’t want to talk about my homelife, and it was none of his business.

More lies. I would have to lie, and I knew the best lies contained most of the truth.

“Yes,” I stated simply.

“What happened?” he persisted.

Lie.“Seriously, Luke? Does it matter? I’m fine, it wasn’t a big deal.”

“It was a big enough deal that you left without him and calledmeto come pick you up. So, please…” he pleaded.

I sighed. “Josh actually called you, but yes, we argued. He was upset because he came home to a shirtless man in his home alone with his soon-to-be wife. If you were in his shoes, wouldn’t you be mad, too?”

He didn’t respond so I took that as a yes. “I’m fine and just needed some time to cool off and got carried away at the bar. Couples fight, it’s normal, and that’s all.”

I finally found the strength to free my hand from his hold and was thankful that he didn’t try to hang on, although he did attempt to grab it again.

“I know couples fight, Hazel. I’ve been in my fair share of relationships.” He took a deep breath, evening out his tone. “I was married.” His confession threw me. At only thirty-one, I couldn’t imagine what happened to end a marriage so early in life. I also couldn’t imagine Luke with another woman, let alone with a wife, and I was pissed that the thought even angered me. He was sitting there passing judgment on me and my relationship, and all I could think about was what kind of husband he had been. “But arguing is as far as it should go, it should never—”

“I know. I know,” I cut him off before he could say anything more. If the words left his mouth, I don’t think I could control my reaction. This conversation was becoming dangerous and my whole body began to vibrate with anxiety.

He didn’t respond, although I knew he wanted to—that he probably had a million things to say—as his jaw twitched and his fists clenched. His deep-green eyes held me hostage in the middle of his kitchen, surrounded by his clean scent, and I hoped I was wrong. That the judgment I thought I saw in his eyes and felt in his words was all my head playing tricks with me.

With a deep breath, and without looking away, I said, “I’m going to order an Uber to drive me to go get my car.”

“No,” he argued immediately, darting up from his barstool. “I’ll drive you, just let me take a shower first, okay?”

When I didn’t answer, he continued, “Please? I’ll only be five minutes. Or if you’d prefer, I can have Josh drive you.”

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