15. Luke
luke
. . .
Lucy looked slightly calmer as she exited the room but was still visibly worried. It pained me to see her like this, and it was even worse to know there wasn’t anything I could do to fix it.
“She’ll be okay,” I told her as the doctor gave us privacy again. “You Milburne ladies are strong.” Lucy forced a small, exhausted smile to cross her face, but she didn’t respond. A strand of curly hair drifted across her face, and I fought the urge to tuck it behind her ear.
“I’ll drive you home. You should get some rest,” I told her. She shook her head.
“I don’t want to go home. It’s going to be too silent. Too weird.” Lucy pinched the bridge of her nose between her fingers, closing her eyes.
“Then you can come to stay with me. I know you wanted some space, but I agree, it would be best if you didn’t stay alone.” I wasn’t stupid. I knew that after our kiss, she avoided me like the plague. Our meeting at the festival was purely coincidental. For the most part, I tried to respect her wishes, but right now, I figured it would be best if she were with someone. And I wasn’t planning to make any moves or use this unfortunate situation for my own gain.
“Thank you, Luke. That’d be nice,” she responded softly. For once, I was thankful she didn’t fight me on this. We walked out of the hospital in silence and toward my truck.
Once I ensured she was inside and put on her belt, I shut the door and moved to the driver’s seat. I let her lead any conversation she may want to have, but our surroundings remained silent aside from the soft hum of the radio. The stars were particularly prominent tonight, twinkling in the night sky. Port-Cartier had a low level of light pollution, so the view of the night sky was always spectacular. I wondered if she ever missed it.
When I turned to ask her about it, I found that her eyes were already closed, and her head leaned against the window. She was asleep. I wanted to soak in the sight for hours, but I forced myself to focus on the road before us, comfortable with the silence and the soft snores that echoed through my truck.
As I pulled up in front of my home, I contemplated waking her up, but ultimately, I decided against it. She needed to rest—today had been a long day for her. I moved as silently as I could as I exited the truck and then moved to the passenger’s side. I wrapped my arms around her, scooping her in my embrace as I made my way up my front porch and into the house.
In moments like these, which, granted, didn’t happen often, I wished I had come along further with my renovations. I didn’t have any guest bedrooms finished yet, but that was okay. There was no way I was letting her sleep on the couch. As silently as I possibly could, I carried her to my bedroom, laying her down on my bed.
She stirred a little but didn’t wake up.
I watched her sleep for a few seconds. Now that I wasn’t driving, I could allow it.
Leaning down, I brushed the strand of her hair out of her face, overcame by the sudden urge to kiss her. Just like I used to do a decade ago. Back then, not a single night we spent sleeping by each other’s side ended without a kiss.
But I had yet to earn that privilege again, so instead, I tugged the blanket over her and let her get some rest.
Tonight, I’d be taking the couch.