Page 9 of Sloth
“I’ll be fine.” She bites her lips as I tuck her back in, and when my hand automatically strokes her cheek the same way hers did mine a few minutes ago, she blushes back at me and smiles.
“Good night, Luke.” Her head nestles back into the pillow, and she closes her eyes, and despite what she said, I wait until she’s breathing soft, sweet little breaths that signal she’s drifted back off. Then I wait some more because she’s just as beautiful sleeping as she is awake, and this way I can take all the time I need to appreciate it.
CHAPTER SIX
ERIN
“You sure you're happy with everything we decided today? You weren’t sayin’ much in there,” Luke asks as we’re driving back home from the funeral directors.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” I answer with a smile. The truth is, I don’t care what style casket Matty gets buried in. I don’t care what he’s wearing when they put him in the damn thing, either. I just want all this to be over. I’m already fed up of pretending to be a grieving widow. It’s hard having to second-guess everything I say and do. I feel awful for lying to people I care about, and I slipped up massively when I kissed Luke last night. Not that I can bring myself to regret it. In fact, ever since, I’ve fantasized about doing it again. Hardly the behaviour of a woman whose husband died just over a week ago.
Lying was never in my nature before I became Matty’s wife. I’ve always been an honest person. But I learned quickly how to be deceptive. Having to do it on a daily basis made me good at it, too. The first time he hit me, I even managed to lie to myself. I told myself it was my fault; I convinced myself that Matty was disgusted with himself and that he was sorry. I covered the bruise as best I could with makeup. I told Mary that I’d tripped on the porch step when she noticed on the Sunday we went todinner at their place, and I made sure I told Liza the exact same story when she noticed it too, a few days later. Lying quickly became second nature to me. Over the past year, I’ve told more lies than I have truths. At least this time I’m lying for a good reason. I’m sparing the Edwards the knowledge that their son was a monster. So why am I finding it so hard? I look across to Luke and think I got it figured out. It’s because I wanna explain to him how I feel. I wanna tell him that for me, it was always him that I wanted to be with. He just never noticed me.
“Mom means well, but she has a way of taking over. If you don’t like something, you should speak up, you got a right to.” The veins in Luke’s forearms pop up as he grips the steering wheel a little tighter, and it makes my pussy clench.
“I’m grateful for your Mom; she’s handling things far better than I am.” I offer him another fake smile, then feel my insides knot when I think back to the poor woman's reaction when she saw her son back at the funeral home. Kudos to the person who prepared him for our visit; they made him look far better than he did when I saw him by the river. Even so, I know it's a sight that will be stuck with her forever. Mary Edwards is a good woman. Bryce Edwards is a good man; they would be devastated if they knew the horrors that their son had made me suffer. I wouldn't ever want to add to their grief, so I will take Matthew’s dark secrets to my grave, just like he took them to his.
I feel my heart sink when Luke pulls onto the dirty track that leads to the ranch. There always seems to be someone calling round to check in and see how I’m doing. It’s exhausting listening to them talk about what a fine young man Matthew was. I have to switch off my brain just to stop myself from screaming. I’ve often thought of packing a bag and fleeing in the middle of the night. Leaving this place behind, and all its memories with it. Luke getting out the truck and rushing around to my door so he can open it for me reminds me why I don’t,and the smile he makes as I step out puts another splinter in my already fragile heart.
Folks may call him lazy, but I’ve always found him thoughtful and kind, and after what he said yesterday, I have faith in him. He was up before anyone else this morning to start work, out in the yard, and he didn’t stop until it was time for us to leave. I’d almost go as far as to say he was enjoying himself.
“You okay?” he checks as he opens the door to the house and waits for me to step inside.
“I’m fine, just a little tired,” I tell him, trying to avoid looking at his lips. When I do, I find myself gravitating toward them.
“I’m gonna head out and check on the herd, but Issac will be here. Why don’t you go lie down for a while?” he suggests, looking concerned.
“I’ll be fine. I’m cooking for Issac and Jake tonight, too. I wanted to do something to show my appreciation.” I head straight for the kitchen so I can get started.
“They know how grateful you are, and they're just doing their jobs,” he assures me.
“Yeah, and how long are they gonna have those jobs. I’m starting to think I should give this land back to your parents and just move on.”
“No!” Luke snaps, taking me a little by surprise.
“This is your home. Matty had big dreams for the two of you and this place. He wanted to make this a success, and he wanted you to be happy here.”
Now would probably be the time a grieving widow would ask how I could possibly be happy without him here with me, but I don’t want to give Luke that fake version of myself. With him, I never feel like I have to; he doesn’t judge me.
“Then you take it,” I suggest, “Make this place great for Matty; prove to your dad that he’s got you all wrong. You're not lazy, Luke, you’ve just never had something you wanted to workfor.” I smile at him because over this past week, I think I got him pretty figured out.
“Then ya gotta stay,” he tells me, looking all sincere and serious, just like he did last night before I kissed him.
“What has me staying got to do with it?” I laugh, hoping it will ease the tension that I can feel rapidly building back up between us.
“I should go check the herd. I’ll tell Issac to work close to the house.” Luke ignores my question and quickly starts to head outside, closing the door behind him and leaving me alone. In a house that holds nothing but heartbreak.
CHAPTER SEVEN
LUKE
“She’s here cleaning again?” I whisper when I step back inside the house. Hanging up my hat on the hook beside the door, I glance over to the bathroom where Mom's cleaning caddy is positioned by the door.
“The funeral’s only a few days away. I think she needs a distraction,” Erin whispers back sympathetically.
“How was work?” She quickly changes the subject and picks her mouth up into a smile.
“Not bad, I patched up a few gaps in the fences and got a good look at some of the new calves; they’re lookin’ healthy. I was thinkin’ of patching up the roof on the haybarn.” I can see how impressed she is, and it feels good.
