Chapter 38
Thirty-Eight
Lucas
“ Y ou just gave her a book and left?” Isaac asks from across the living room.
My elbows are on my knees, with my hands buried in my hair. “I’m not good at this, Isaac,” I groan.
“Clearly,” he replies sarcastically. “Did you tell her you were quitting your job?”
“No. She just changed her major to my program. I don’t want this to distract her.”
“Fair, but you have to do something to show her you’ve changed,” he says.
“She’ll have to talk to me first,” I reply.
“Well, you’re not going to accomplish that by sitting here with me,” he argues.
“Apparently, I’m not going to accomplish it standing in front of her either,” I say with a moan.
“Come on, Luke. If you quit your job and turned down the chance of a lifetime for her, I think she’d like to know!”
“Stop yelling at me,” I snap.
“Nice try, brother, but you can’t just boss me around. And right now, you need to hear this.” Isaac breaks out in laughter. “It’s kinda funny when you think about it. She came to you so you could help her get her life together, and now you’re the one whose life is a mess. That’s a coincidence.”
“It’s called irony,” I reply with a grimace.
“Whatever.”
“And I’m fully aware of how ironic this is,” I mutter into my hands. Picking up my phone, I pull up our text thread and stare at it aimlessly. “Should I text her?”
“Fuck texts. You should go see her.”
“I can’t just show up at her house,” I say. “I don’t even know what the fuck to say.”
“Start on your knees,” Isaac says distractedly. My head snaps up to glare at him as he rolls his eyes.
“I didn’t mean it like that. I meant that you have some begging to do, brother.”
It feels wrong when I think about it, picturing myself on my knees for her. Kneeling is submitting. It’s relinquishing control to someone you trust, and I trust Sadie more than I’ve ever trusted anyone in my life, but handing over control? That isn’t something I can do so naturally.
And yet she’s done it for me countless times. She trusted me to never hurt her too much. To never make her feel inferior or unappreciated. She trusted me with so much. And not just in a physical way, but she trusted me with her life. To help her. Guide her. Care about her.
And what did I do in return?
I put myself before her. I prioritized my fucking job when a perfect living, breathing, beautiful human wanted my devotion.
Fuck, I need to do more than kneel for her. I’d set myself on fire just to keep her warm.
But she never asked for anything so dramatic. No, what she asked for was so much more simple than that.
What is wrong with me?
I shove my phone into my pocket .
“You’re right,” I say as I bolt to a standing position. “I need to see her. Now.”
Isaac looks up in shock from the baby name book she left behind. “That’s more like it. What are you going to say?”
“I’ll start with I’m sorry and see where it goes from there.”
“Good start,” he replies. “I’ll get out of here in case you two come back here to rekindle things.” He makes a squeamish face as he drops the book on the table and stands. As he grabs his keys from the table, I pause and give him a concerned look.
“Are you sure you’re okay being alone?” I ask.
Shooting me a perplexed look, he replies, “I’m always alone, Luke.”
For some reason, that comment slices me open like a knife. I’m always alone, too. But I don’t want to be alone anymore, and it’s the first time I’ve actually accepted that.
I don’t want to be alone anymore .
In fact, the idea sends chills down my spine because what if she doesn’t accept my apology? What if it’s not enough for her, and she doesn’t take me back? Then, I will be stuck alone forever. Something I once dreamed of now feels like my worst nightmare—all because of her.
Isaac seems to notice my heavy expression. “You okay?”
Solemnly, I nod. “Yeah. Or…no, I guess.”
“Crystal clear,” he retorts sarcastically.
As he tries to walk past me, I grab his arm to stop him. “You don’t have to be alone, you know? Just because you don’t want the family we were given doesn’t mean you can’t find a new one.”
Isaac’s expression turns serious, which isn’t all that common for him. So, I appreciate the lightness in his eyes.
He turns them down to the floor as he uncomfortably mutters, “I know that. It’s just not easy dating as a closeted country musician with trauma and emotional baggage.”
“I don’t believe that at all,” I reply.
As he turns his gaze back up to my face, he forces a tight smile. “Thanks, and for what it’s worth…it’s not that I don’t want the fa mily I was given. In fact, I was thinking…maybe soon, I could…you know…”
My molars clench and something inside me tightens. I’ve come to recognize this as my protective, territorial side. Because I know what Isaac is implying—he’s thinking about coming back into the fold of our family. Reuniting himself with Caleb and Adam and even our mother in more familial, less-guarded circumstances.
I don’t know how I feel about this. I’ve had Isaac to myself for so long; I don’t want to lose this. He’s mine. My little brother. And it’s been my job to keep him safe for the past ten years, but can I really keep him safe? And for how long?
But my insecurities shouldn’t be the reason he’s deprived of a family who loves him. If he is ready to come home, then I should support him. Besides, the monster who drove him away is gone now, and our brothers would only show him love. So what am I so afraid of?
I clap a hand on his shoulder as I force my own body to relax. “Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be here to support you.”
His eyes glisten as he nods and looks away. “You always have.”
Now it’s my turn to look down and blink away tears. This feels like the end of something significant. Something I’m not ready to let go of. But life rarely happens when you’re ready.
“Okay, seriously, go. Get that phenomenal girl back.” He pushes me toward the door as he follows behind. I watch as he shoves his feet into his boots, getting hit with a wave of nostalgia. It’s as if it’s the last time I’ll watch him do that.
I don’t spend the drive rehearsing lines I won’t say. There’s no point. My mind is blank as I drive until the next thing I know, I’m standing on her front porch steps, ringing the doorbell at almost nine o’clock at night .
Her father comes to the door with a disgruntled expression.
“Hi, sorry,” I stammer. “I know it’s late, but is Sadie here? Could I please speak to her…sir?”
I’ve never felt like a bigger fool in my life, and I’ve never not cared so much, either.
“She’s at work, Luke,” he says impatiently. I’m sure he doesn’t think highly of me at the moment, and I don’t blame him. I don’t think too highly of myself either, but I’m working on it.
“Work. Of course,” I say with a shake of my head as I step away from the door and move to my car. “Thanks again,” I call back as I retreat into the darkness.
But before I can get away, another figure steps out onto the porch steps. Sadie’s brother, Jonah, stands about three inches taller than me and crosses his arms over his chest like a pissed-off guard dog.
Their father has already disappeared into the house, and I’m left to face Sadie’s fiercest protector.
“Hi, Jonah,” I say with an awkward wave.
He launches into a tirade, his hands moving angrily as he signs, almost too fast for me to follow.
“My sister is the best person I know,” he says. “And she always dates the worst guys, but then when she brought you home, I thought you would be good for her.”
“I know,” I reply, softly tapping my forehead in defeat. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t say sorry to me,” he argues.
“I’m trying to find her to say sorry,” I reply. My sign language is slow and awkward, but Jonah is quick to understand but not so quick to forgive. And somehow, this makes me like him even more.
“I thought you were smart,” he says, which makes me laugh.
“I thought so, too.”
“But you’re not. You’re stupid,” he argues, and I laugh a little more. Suddenly, I’m reminded that Jonah is still a kid, fueled by base emotions like anger and fear. It makes things simple. I fucked up, and he’s mad at me for it. He doesn’t care that these things are complicated, and there are so many layers of my own personal trauma that made me the way I am, Sadie too.
According to Jonah, I made his sister cry. Which makes me stupid. And it’s as simple as that.
I couldn’t agree more.
I tap on the side of my head again. “I know.”
He breathes angrily through his nose as he glares at me. Finally, he adds, “Don’t hurt her.”
“I don’t want to,” I reply. “I…I love her.”
“She loves you too,” he says, and I don’t know if he knows that because she told him or because he could tell. Neither one makes me feel better. I know that she loves me, but I still didn’t do right by her, so what should feel good to know only feels like shit.
“I want to take care of her,” I say. “I want to make her happy. I’m going to put her first.”
He stares at me for a while as if he’s judging me. I’ve never wanted someone’s approval more than I want his—an angry kid who loves his sister more than anyone.
“Good,” he snaps. “Prove it.”
“I will.”
With that, he backs up toward the door until he reaches the handle, keeping an eye on me as he goes. I awkwardly wave goodbye to him before climbing back into my car.