I pressed my lips together. Luke’s arm went tight around me and he buried his face in my hair.
“Babe,” he said softly and I knew he wasn’t asleep and he knew I was crying.
Hell and damnation.
I kept silent but took a deep, broken breath to control the tears. When he heard the breath, his arm went even tighter but he didn’t say anything else.
After awhile, I fell asleep.
* * * * *
Sometime in the middle of the night, Luke moved me, rolling under me, situating me at his other side.
I tried to turn my back to him but he didn’t allow that, caught my leg behind my knee and hooked it over his waist.
I didn’t struggle nor did I say a word.
Luke’s hand ran from my knee, up my thigh, over my ass, halting at my hip. “Ava Babe, you awake?”
I told him I was by pressing my forehead to his throat but also told him, even so, I wasn’t speaking to him by keeping silent.
“Jesus, you could bring a man to his knees,” he muttered, but his tone didn’t sound angry, it sounded resigned, as if he knew this was to be his fate. Worse, it sounded like he didn’t really mind. Worse than that, I found this moved me in such a profound way it was so big I couldn’t bury it, I had to carry it with me and that I didn’t like at all.
It took awhile but I fell back to sleep.
* * * * *
I woke up in the same position as ever when I was in bed with Luke and I immediately remembered I was in the throes of my Silent Treatment.
Without a word and without looking at him I rolled away. I threw my legs over the side, went directly to the kitchen to nab a diet, got my stuff and went to the bathroom. I didn’t come out until I was dressed and ready for my day.
When I got out of the bathroom, the bed was empty. Luke was in the kitchen making coffee, chest bare (of course), wearing his sweatpants from last night.
I went about the business of making myself toast and calling Sissy to ask her to come and take me to the gym (she decided to come with me). All the while I acted as if Luke didn’t exist.
I was wiping my hands on a kitchen towel after rinsing my plate when Luke tagged me around the waist, backed me against the opposite counter and moved in, hands on the counter on either side of me.
I tilted my head back to look up at him (silently).
“How long you gonna keep this up?” he asked.
I just stared at him.
His hands moved from the counter to either side of my neck, thumbs of both hands stroking my jaw. This felt nice and the warm look in his eyes was so killer, my dedication to the Silent Treatment took a direct hit.
Sucking it up, I recovered.
He kept talking. “I f**ked up, Ava, I apologized. Not much more I can do.”
I kept staring at him.
One thumb slid along my lower lip and he watched it go then his eyes came to mine.
Gently he said, “Someone apologizes and they mean it, you should accept. Doesn’t say much about you if you don’t.”
I swallowed because he sounded disappointed in me and I never wanted Luke to be disappointed in me. In fact, I spent six years of my growing up life twisting myself into pretzels so that I would make him anything but disappointed in me. Not to mention, an entire year of my adult life changing my appearance to make sure, when he saw me again, he wouldn’t be disappointed in that either.
It wasn’t like a slap in the face but it didn’t feel good either.