Page 37 of Just Is Not Enough

Lifting my head slowly I see a tear falling down his cheek. “I didn’t say it to make you feel like you should, too. You don’t have to feel obligated,” I whisper, afraid I’ll break down from all the emotions flowing through me right now.

“I love you, Kaden.”

“You said that already.” A smile forms on my face at how cute he is right now. “Why are you crying, Luke?”

He looks confused. “I didn’t realize I was.” He goes to wipe the tear away. I stop his hand and sweep my tongue across his cheek taking his tears. They’re mine now.

He cups my face with both hands pulling me in, placing a delicate kiss on my lips. “I love you, Kaden.”

“I love you, Luke.” I don’t know what’s going on here, but it seems like something more. He’s staring at me like he’s seen a ghost.

I pull out of him and move to his side, removing the condom to throw it in the bedside trash bin. Luke is staring up at the ceiling now. I stand offering my hand, he takes it.

I guide him to the bathroom. Covering the toilet with the lid I have him sit while running a hot bath. He’s staring down at his hands in his lap now. Is he in shock? Does he regret this?

I kneel down in front of him while we wait for the tub to fill. “Luke, are you okay? You’re kind of scaring me.”

His gaze meets mine. Smiling sweetly, “Yeah, Kaden. I’m perfect.”

I swear, his smile can melt an iceberg. “C’mon, Bug. Let’s get you in the bath. I’m sure you’re sore.”

He stands and I help him into the garden style tub, following as he leans forward for me to slide in behind him. I wrap my legs around his front where he rests his arms and leans back against my chest.

“Want to talk about it?” I ask him cautiously, not wanting to poke my nose where it shouldn’t be.

He’s quiet for a minute, then another. I wait him out. I won’t push him to tell me something he’s not ready to talk about. I massage his arms and shoulders hoping to relax him if nothing else.

“I’ve never had anyone say I love you to me before.” He finally shares what’s haunting him.

“You’ve never been in love?”

“No. But I mean like ever, from anyone besides my aunts and Gabe. But somehow that doesn’t count. I never doubted their love.”

“I don’t quite understand, Luke.”

He hesitates, “My family isn’t full of the most affectionate people. We never said, ‘I love you.’ My mother hugged us every once in a while, but besides that any type of love was nonexistent.”

It takes me a minute to process what he said. “What about Jackson or Dakota? I’m sure they’ve told you they love you, right?”

“They grew up in the same family. I know they love me, I suppose. We never say it though. We don’t really talk about emotions or anything remotely close to it.”

“What about your dad? The same with him?”

“Yeah. I think my father’s parents are where it started, at least for my immediate family. My grandparents were that way with my father and Uncle Jack, Dakota’s dad. Once they had kids it just became a thing. They both treated us all like we were soldiers to follow the path set for us going back generations. Police officers in every one of them. Small town families full of police officers are a different breed. I think my mother and Aunt Jean, Dakota’s mother, started out differently, both showing the three of us at least some affection. About the time I was seven years old my father started telling them to stop babying us. Jack agreed and reinforced it with ‘they’ll never make it on the force acting like a bunch crybabies.’ God forbid a 5-year-old cry because he fell out of his treehouse and broke his wrist.”

Luke drops his head back onto my shoulder, inhaling deeply and letting it out in a big whoosh. “After that, I started spending every moment I could with my aunts. I would beg my mom to let me go spend weekends with them or on school breaks. I spent summers mostly with them. I think my mom knew why, too. I’ve had more happy memories with them than anyone else in my family. They’re a lot of fun and I never doubted their love for me. They made sure I knew it, too.”

“They sound like good people.” I smile kissing his cheek.

“The best. I don’t know where I’d be without them.”

“Have you ever spoken to your parents about it? Tell them how you felt as a kid and still do?”

“Every time I’d come home from spending time with my aunts I was in the habit of saying ‘I love you’ with them. I slipped and said it to my father a couple times.” He pauses, his hands tightening around my ankles where they were resting. “He would ignore me and walk away like he didn’t hear me. I didn’t dare mention it to them. It would make it hurt more.”

I snake my arms around his chest, squeezing tightly. “I’m sorry they made you feel unloved.”

He takes my hand in his raising it to his lips, kissing my palm. “I’m sorry I killed the mood.”

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