Page 20 of This Much Is True
“I mean, I get that you use your page for work, but you could still show her every now and then,” I say, laughing too. “I’m always suspicious if a man is married and his girl doesn’t show up anywhere with him online.”
“Oh,” he says, his eyes alight with humor. “I see. You’ve been checking me out.”
“Hardly.”
He hums.
“Stephanie happened to see one of your viral videos,” I say, rolling my eyes playfully. “And she showed me, and I may or may not have gotten curious.”
“You’re a fangirl.”
It’s my turn to burst out laughing. “I am hardly a fangirl, Luke. But thanks.”
“You are. That issocool.”
“Stop it.”
“Why? You don’t think I’m not online watching what you’re up to?”
He turns away before I can see his face.
“You’re checking on me?” I ask.
“I just wonder what you’re up to sometimes.” His voice drops a few octaves. “You’re really impressive. But I’m sure you know that.”
My heart swells so big that I’m afraid it will burst.
After I was supposed to come home the last time and couldn’t, he didn’t answer my calls. Worse, he didn’t return them, either. I’ve always hoped that maybe it was too hard for him like it was for me. A clean break was easier than peeling the bandage off slowly. I’ve looked into endless arenas and at thousands of crowds—read countless comments on posts and wondered if any of them were him.
I’ve wondered whether Luke thought about me. To have the answer,to know that he has, brings tears to my eyes because what I’ve really feared all these years is that he hated me.Did he hate me for leaving? Did he hate me for not coming back? Even though he told me he knew I had to go try to achieve my dreams, did he really mean it?
Knowing that Luke was always in my corner, rooting for me if only silently, heals a wound I’ve carried with me since the day I left Peachwood Falls.
“The peach dress that you wore to the awards show last spring,” he says, looking at me over his shoulder. “It reminded me of the one you wore to senior prom.” He dips his chin and looks away again. “I’m sure it was a lot more expensive, and those diamonds were real, but you were beautiful.”
My vision fogs as I will myself not to cry.
“Anyway,” he says, running a hand over his head. “I’m glad things are okay, and your people are fighting for you behind the scenes.”
Like I never fought for you.
Like you never fought for me.
“Yeah,” I say, clearing my throat. “They’re all in agreement that my stunt this afternoon was the best thing I could’ve done in the moment.”
Luke faces me again. “And you don’t think you’ll ever talk to Tom again?”
His features are sober, and his brows pull together. The question hangs in the balance between us.
I’m not sure why it seems important to answer this fully—but it does.
“Tom didn’t love me, Luke. Not like a man should love a woman if he’s going to marry her. And I didn’t love him like a woman should love her husband, either.”
He stares into my eyes.
“I was convenient for him,” I say. “I helped him reach his goals. I bolstered his public persona. But there was little respect there. No fun.” I gulp. “No sex.”
“What?”
