Chapter Thirty-Five #2
“Well, you should know he started falling for you long before that. The whole pretending not to know your name thing, plus all the times I caught him looking at you in the office. He was trying to get your attention. I felt like I was watching the world’s slowest office burn unfold.”
“Sorry to keep you waiting.”
“Sorry to keep you waiting,” she says. And then, to my complete shock, she reaches into the canyon-deep pockets of her cardigan and pulls out something I thought I’d never see again:
My dagger.
I take it from her, fingers curling around the familiar hilt.
“Luke snuck into the hospital when you were still unconscious. He gave me this to give to you. I know I should have given it to you as soon as you woke up, but—” She sniffles.
“You were so fragile. I had just gotten you back from the literal brink of death and everyone thought he was the bad guy. I didn’t know what to think.
But you deserve the truth, whatever it is. I didn’t read it.”
She nods at the blade. Tied around the hilt with what looks like a dress shoelace is a piece of paper. When I untie it, I realize that neat script covers the inside. It’s a letter.
Dear Brie,
Where to start? Do I apologize again for crafting half-truths and lies about myself this past week? Do I beg for your forgiveness until my ink runs dry? Do I scrap the letter and risk showing up when you wake so I can kiss you one last time before leaving?
I would, but then I might never leave.
I’m sorry for it all, but not for this: I made a deal with my brother to get us back.
But this is my deal—not yours. No matter how much I want to continue our time together, I’m not going to tie you to a fate you don’t deserve.
I did it to my mother, my brother, myself. I’m not doing it to you, too.
I want you to have this dagger. If you ever need to find me, you know how. But you’re better off if you don’t.
You are incredible and beautiful and brave. Don’t forget it. I certainly won’t.
Thank you for being my companion and the best co-rescuer I could ever want (or, admittedly, not want). I owe you my life and my humanity.
Most importantly, thank you for fixing the faulty fucking fax machine. The worlds are indebted to you. All of them.
To hell and back,
Luke
PS—I’m also sorry for underestimating a bow and arrow. I stand humbly corrected.
A bruised laugh escapes at the last line. I set the letter in my lap and wipe my eyes.
“Do you want me to pretend I didn’t just read it from over your shoulder?” Krystal quietly asks, breaking through my sniffles.
“I’m honestly impressed you held out this long.
” I shake my head with another laugh, a few more tears shaking free with it.
Maybe she thought I’d be upset she kept this from me until now, letting me believe Luke left without saying goodbye.
But after nearly losing her, it’s trivial.
She was just trying to protect me, like I tried to protect her.
She blows out a relieved breath, grinning. “It was a challenge.”
I throw my arms around her. “Thank you for giving it to me now. I just…I really miss him.”
Luke. My unmissable man. I wonder—does he miss me, too?
Krystal hugs me back, squeezing tight enough to hurt. But it’s a good hurt. One I would gladly feel again and again.
“I want details!” Krystal bounces excitedly when we part. “Did you have a classic post-action makeout? Did he brush your hair out of your eyes? And why were you in a ball gown? Does that mean he was your date?” She gasps. “Have you seen him in a tux?”
I pretend to think. “Hmm, yes, yes, we snuck into a masquerade soiree, yes, and yes. And, before you ask, yes, he looks super hot in a tux. Oh, and one more thing. But it’s kind of TMI.”
“We’re trauma bonded. I’m pretty sure there’s no such thing as TMI. Spill.”
Cupping my hands around my mouth, I whisper in her ear, “He finger banged me on the bathroom counter of his childhood home and then we had sex.”
Her mouth drops open. “Brie, if you’re lying to me, I swear—”
“I’m not lying,” I laugh. My cheeks feel hot, but in the best way. “I can’t believe it, either.”
“So where is he? Why isn’t he here trying to fuck you in my guest bed?”
“Shhh!” I shriek, glancing toward the house where her kids and in-laws are eating pie.
Thankfully, the windows are closed to ward off the late autumn chill.
“You read the letter. He couldn’t stay. Aside from the whole being wanted as a kidnapper thing, he has to do some…
traveling. It was part of the deal to get me home alive. And he takes deals very seriously.”
“What is this deal? And he has a brother? Is he in the mob? The mafia? A drug cartel?”
“No! No, nothing like that but—” Maybe worse. “Still. He obviously doesn’t want me to join.”
She scrunches her nose like she smells something foul.
“That is such a classic man thing to do. He’s trying to protect you and thinks you deserve better—which, don’t get me wrong, nobody is good enough for you—but you guys had something.
I could tell before I was poisoned, I could tell while I was poisoned, and I can tell now.
You can’t let something like that go. What does Brie want? ”
What do I want? Definitely not to go back to being a pushover receptionist stuck changing water jugs at Curated Care on Monday. Or, like, ever.
I think about it through the rest of the night, while eating pie and wedged between Aurelia and Kassidy on the couch reading them a bedtime story and lying on the guest bed staring at the ceiling. Krystal’s right. I’m not happy. I didn’t notice, because I haven’t been happy in over a year.
But with Luke, there were points where it all peeled away. Even though I have plenty to be furious at him about, I’d much rather be furious with him. And maybe he’ll need help. He didn’t think he would in hell, but I proved him wrong.