Page 30 of Back To You

All the color from his face drains, and I instantly want to take back the words.

A few moments pass before he finally says, “I don’t know if I’m moving back home.” The words are barely above a whisper. It sounds like he doesn’t want anyone to hear him, even though we are the only two people here, and my stomach knots.

“What are you talking about?” I ask, my volume matching his. As if whispering these words will nullify the conversation, make it so it doesn’t count. Towards what? I don’t know. Count towards me actually caring about what Luke wants to do with his life?

“I was talking to Bennett and Jack this morning, and I don’t know if I want to be a lawyer.”

Luke must expect me to be more surprised by this sentiment, but my face doesn’t change.

I’m not even the smallest bit surprised.

I knew from the moment he told me he wasn’t taking that hockey scholarship our senior year of high school, the one he worked his ass off for, that it wasn’t the decision he wanted to make.

Both Luke and I come from families that didn’t want us, and I think it’s part of the reason we held so tightly to each other growing up.

His “father” took him in for the sole purpose of saving face, but I think it was more than that. I think Mr. Owens said Luke was his as a way to hurt his wife and his brother for their affair.

My parents didn’t want a child.

Just like Luke, my parents didn’t plan on having me, but I didn’t find out when I was nine like he did. I was told every day for as long as I can remember that my mom and dad didn’t want me.

That I ruined their lives, their relationship, theireverything.

So I tried to become invisible at home, at school, anywhere. The people who were supposed to love me the most in this world are the ones who wished I was never born.

I grew up wondering why they even decided to have me to begin with. Then, the bullying started in high school, and I wished they never did.

My mom was my first bully, and, somehow, along the way, she taught me how to be the perfect target for my next ones.

There was one person who saw me, no matter how hard I tried to fall into the background, and that person is sitting here telling me his truth as if I didn’t know him well enough to know it was a lie to begin with.

Luke was never meant to be invisible. It isn’t who he is. So when his father finally saw him, I knew he wouldn’t be able to resist, even if it meant giving up what he wanted.

“Okay,” I say, stretching out the word. “So don’t be one.”

Luke throws his hands up in the air before using them to push his hair back. “Why does everyone make it sound so easy?” he asks looking up towards the ceiling, but I stay silent. “Nevermind,” he says, exasperated, shaking the hair he just pushed away back in his face. “That doesn’t matter. I’m sorry you can’t take this place just because I have my own shit to figure out.”

Why do I want to tell him that there is nothing to be sorry for?

That I’m here for him, to help him figure it all out.

“I emailed the leasing office last night,” he continues, “I’m waiting to hear if there are any units here that are available.”

I take in a sharp exhale, a small pressure in my chest forms at the thought that Luke can still be so good to me despite how much of a bitch I am to him.

A thought about Luke and me that I bury down with the rest of them.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

There’s a sadness in his eyes that doesn’t look right on his face. A small smile graces his lips, and it makes me miss his wide grin and even that maddening smirk.

I’m too taken aback by the pressure that just keeps growing in my chest to realize he’s moved until he’s kneeling on the floor in front of where I’m sitting on the couch, his hand gently cupping my cheek as if I’d break with even the slightest touch.

“When will you understand that I will do anything for you?”

He stands up and heads to his bedroom before I can process his words, his touch,him.

The door closes behind him, and the pressure in my chest doesn’t subside.

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