Page 62 of When I'm Gone
Annie’s arms went limp, releasing from behind his back. An embarrassed heat crawled up Luke’s neck and made his ears ring. He’d gone too far too fast. Touched her too easily, comforted her too aggressively. Luke cleared his throat and backed away, staring at his big toe instead of daring to see the look on Annie’s face.
“I’m going home,” Annie said. “That call was to tell me he’s on his way.”
“What?” Luke blinked rapidly.
She put the phone in the pocket of her flannel pants. “I threw away my clothes. They were beyond saving. Can I wear these home?” she asked, gesturing to the borrowed clothing she was wearing.
“You’re goingback?” Luke asked, ignoring Annie’s question. She folded her arms across her chest and pulled at the hem of her shirt.
“It was a stupid fight. He ... he wasn’t feeling well. He ...”
“He was on pills, Annie. I saw them. Pills and booze. Stop covering for him.”
“It’s the alcohol. I know it is. It changes him. And he takes the pills to calm down. He’s going to get treatment. He promised.” Annie twisted a gray string around her finger from the hem of her shirt. “He never laid a hand on me until Matt left.”
Luke could barely breathe. No one goes from “wonderful husband” to “heinous abuser” in one fell swoop. But he wasn’t going to argue about her honesty because if she was anything like his mother, hiding was easier than truth. Pacifying the monster inside her husband was easier than slaying it.
“Annie,” he said softly, biting back any kind of judgmental tone, “how will he get treatment when he doesn’t want anyone to know about his problem?”
“I don’t know; I ... I don’t see any other options.” She looked up at him with half-squinted eyes. “Where would I go?”
“A shelter,” Luke interjected. “Or I could take you somewhere far away. You could hide. You could ...”
“No,” Annie said, slashing her hand through the air. “He’d find me. You know he would.”
“Since when is that a reason to stay with someone who is hurting you?” Luke lost his nonchalant air, tapping his head like he couldn’t figure out a math problem.
“You don’t understand,” she bit back. “You can’t. What you had with Natalie, I don’t have that, okay? I don’t get to have someone who loves me, cherishes me. I’ve come to accept it. If I leave with you, he won’t stop at hurting me; he’d hurt you and your family. I can’t accept that.”
Luke shook his head, unable to believe what he was hearing. A panic-filled fury filled him. He forgot restraint and lunged forward, grabbing Annie’s arms, firm but gentle. She looked up into his face, eyebrows raised in surprise but not fear.
“You can’t go back. I won’t let you.” His voice caught in his throat. “You shouldn’t have to live this way.”
Annie avoided eye contact, and Luke knew he was watching her defenses go up like homeowners boarding up their windows before a hurricane. She shook her head, hair bouncing off her cheekbones.
“Let me help you,” he begged, letting go of her arms with one hand, brushing a tangled clump of damp hair off her face. A few strands stuck to the corner of her eye, glued there by the silent tears trailing down her cheek. “Let me help you like I couldn’t help my mom.”
“I am not your mother,” Annie said bitterly, lips curled back. Luke snapped his hand away. It was over. She was going to leave, and there was nothing he could say to change her mind.
The doorbell rang. Annie whipped her head around, eyebrows raised in terror, as if she’d just heard a bomb explode instead of the doorbell’s one-note ping. As Annie brushed past him toward the front door, Luke grabbed her hand by her fingertips.
“You can call me if you are ready to leave him.” He stared at her slender fingers, nails painted a soft peach, and took a staccato breath. He couldn’t ignore the ache he’d been hiding from since his childhood. He’d ignored too many pains in his life. No more pretending. “But until then, please don’t contact us.”
“Fine. If that’s the way you want it.” Annie yanked her hand away, glaring at him. She was too far into her protection mode, far beyond his reach. “Good-bye, Luke.”
“Good-bye, Annie,” Luke whispered. She turned the corner into the foyer without looking back. Collapsing onto the couch, he covered his ears, trying to block out the sound of the front door opening and the echo of Brian’s tentative “hello.”
CHAPTER 25
Lying in bed, Luke wondered how he’d gotten here. In an empty house, empty bed, alone on his seventeenth anniversary. Natalie—gone. Kids—gone. Felicity—gone. Annie—gone.
He’d replayed Annie’s farewell over and over in his head for the past week. It followed him to work, to every meeting. It followed him and echoed off the walls of his strangely empty home. What did he do wrong? What should he have done differently? Every single scenario ended the same way, with Annie never talking to him again. At least this way, it was his choice.
A few hours after Annie left, Luke finally got up the courage to use the business card he’d dug out the night before. Dennis Bormet, the investigator from Brian’s new job. Nervous but determined, he dialed the number on the card. The phone rang, one, two, three times. Just when Luke was coming up with what he’d say in a voice-mail message, a man answered.
“Hello?”
“Hello,” Luke responded automatically. “Uh ...” He cleared his throat, trying to remember the story he’d planned out before the call.
