Page 132 of The Hookup
“Thanks.” She couldn’t quite say the same back. He looked better, but he didn’t look 100%. It shocked her, because as the months had passed on, she had expected him to have returned to his usual self. He must have noticed, because he said something about the medication being difficult to get right, and that it was a question of trial and error.
Just seeing him like this made her feel down. Brought out her caring side, made her forget the hurtful things that had happened between them. She looked away, determined not to feel anything, trying to turn a blind eye to the way he looked, and the melancholy tone of his voice. But she couldn’t look away for long. “Are you…is the cancer gone?” she asked, not sure how to say it. The idea that his cancer cells might have come back, suddenly frightened her.
“It’s gone. I have checkups all the time, but it’s definitely gone, for now.”
For now?
He must have seen her concern, because he said, “It can come back at any time. Even with healthy people. I just try and make the most of each day.”
Her heart softened like jello. He looked so vulnerable and so weak. Not the Luke she knew. The Luke she missed. He looked as if all his vitality had been sucked right out of his body, and all that was left was an empty man. She was tempted to buoy him back up again, to make him see that he was fine, to bolster him, because she couldn’t bear to see him like this.
But she wasn’t going to.
And though it was hard, she forced herself to hold back.
And yet she couldn’t walk away either. She looked over his shoulder at Savannah’s door, wondering, hoping that Millicent wasn’t in there, irritating the hell out of Savannah.
She didn’t have it in her to walk away just yet. It had been easier to stay away, but now that he was here, in front of her, that familiar pull of old kept her rooted to the floor. He had changed, he seemed softer now, almost resembling the man she had first met on the island.
But she had changed, too.
She was harder, not so forgiving, and much more protective of her heart. She wasn’t going to rush back, not like Good-Time-Kay would have. She was no longer the woman to sidle up to him and bat her eyelashes, but neither was she a coldhearted monster. And with the passing of time, things softened.
Memories blurred.
Harsh words and actions were forgotten.
And some things still remained. She had never forgotten the trials of his teenage years. Had never been able to erase what must have been the shaping moments of his youth. Many times since that last time, she had been tempted to pick up the phone and talk to him; had been curious to know how his counseling sessions were going, and how he was doing, and each time she had managed to stop herself.
These days she prided herself on her self-restraint.
“How is Dr. Santini?” he asked, looking away again.
“Good.”I expect.
“Savannah said you’ve got a great job with another bank.”
“I have.”
“Good luck. I hope you told your boss and Geoffrey to fuck off.”
“Not in those words.”
They both smiled. “You’re way too classy for that,” he said, a flash of something that looked like regret crossing his face.
“I don’t know about classy,” she said. “I prefer feisty.”
“No,” he said, softly, shaking his head, his eyes scanning every inch of her face as if he’d forgotten what she looked like. A rush of stirring jangled in her heart, upsetting her breathing patterns again.
“You’ve always been classy. Feisty too,” he added, before his lips clamped shut, as if he was forcing himself to watch what he said.
“How’s the counseling coming along?”
“It’s enlightening.”
Good, bad? What exactly did he mean by that? “Has it helped?”
“It’s helped. At least, Amanda seems to think so.”
