Chapter 28 – Luke
LUKE
Perfectly normal.
Coffee, prayer, meditation, Marley's walk.
No emotional hangover, no fuzziness.
I don't even want to talk to him right now.
Luke and Marley sat on the back deck as the sun began to light up the neighborhood. From the deck, he noted a few yard projects that needed attention soon. He might need to hire someone for a few things, but he'd always been pretty handy with the basics. It made him feel responsible and capable.
His phone buzzed on the kitchen counter. He could see the screen lighting up with a call through the window, and he knew what it meant.
He didn't move.
Marley's head tilted, watching him.
"Not yet, buddy," Luke said quietly. "Not yet."
He took a long, hot shower, luxuriating in the rainforest showerhead and the eucalyptus-and-peppermint body wash. He used his favorite face scrub, shaved slowly, and moisturized. He was in no hurry and was enjoying the sights, smells, and sounds of his little house.
That's when the first text came.
“Morning.”
Luke didn't respond. He turned off the volume on his phone so he wouldn't be disturbed by anything further, turned it face down on the counter, packed his bag and Marley’s leash, and drove to the AA clubhouse.
The building was a converted church basement with low ceilings, industrial carpet, and folding chairs stacked against the wall. But it was theirs. The Saturday morning meeting had just let out, and a few people were cleaning up.
"Luke!" Carol, one of the old-timers, called with a wave from the kitchenette. "You here for the cleanup crew?"
"If you need help."
"Always. Storage room's a disaster. Been meaning to organize it for months."
Luke spent the next two hours sorting through boxes of old literature, stacking chairs, and sweeping out corners that hadn't been touched in years. Physical work helped get him out of his head.
His sponsor, Suze, had told him years ago, "When you're spinning out, go be useful. Help someone. It’s the best way to cope.”
So Luke sorted and stacked and swept, and gradually, his stomachache mellowed.
Carol brought him coffee around noon. "You doing okay?"
"Yeah. Trying to stay busy."
She nodded, understanding without needing details. "Well, the storage room looks better than it has in ten years,” she said. “Thank you."
"Anytime."
As he was leaving, he checked his phone. Three more texts from Jack. He read what he could see without opening each message, then put it back in his pocket.
Not yet.
Luke drove with Marley to The Ridge, where Amir was manning the front desk.
"Sweet party last night," Amir said. "Thanks for inviting me."
"Thanks for coming!"
Amir studied him for a moment. "You good, Boss?"
"Yeah, thanks. Was a long night."
Amir opened his mouth like he was about to say something, then closed it. "Well, the workout will help. Always does."
The morning classes were done, and the rest of the day was open gym, so Luke did a full-body lifting session. He pushed harder than usual—heavier weights, shorter rests, lungs burning, muscles screaming. It was liberating to work so hard on simple, physical tasks he completely controlled.
He'd finished squats and calf raises when his phone chimed with another text.
“Can we talk later? I'm really sorry about last night.”
Luke walked to the front desk and set the phone down next to Amir's notebook.
"I'm leaving this here for a while,” Luke said. “Unless someone’s bleeding or on fire, I don’t want to know.”
Amir shrugged. "K."
After his workout and a quick shower, Luke grabbed his phone and saw more texts. He didn't read them. Instead, he opened his contacts and scrolled to the ski club group chat.
Tyler: “Spring festival tonight in Crested Butte. Who's in?”
It seemed like an easy chance to get away from town, work, and the immediate radius of Colonel Fucking Jack Garrison.
Luke texted back.
“I'm in. What time?”
Luke arrived at the festival around seven. Music poured out of the bars lining Main Street, and the whole town was out. Locals and tourists mingled in the easy spring energy that came with the end of ski season.
Tyler waved and called to him right away, pulling him into the group. "Luke! You made it!"
They grabbed dinner at a taco place, then headed to a bar with a dance floor. Luke ordered a ginger ale and lime. Nobody questioned it. They never did.
The music was loud, the crowd was friendly, and for brief stretches of time, last night slipped his mind. He’d forget about standing in that hotel ballroom, waiting for Jack to walk through the door. About the sick feeling when he'd finally checked his phone and seen Jack’s text.
He danced. He laughed. He let Tyler tell ridiculous stories about the season's worst ski tourists.
And then someone tapped him on the shoulder.
"Hey."
Luke turned. A guy about his age, dark hair, a nice smile, holding a beer. "I haven't seen you here before."
"I'm from Calder Ridge."
"That's a drive." The guy leaned closer so Luke could hear him over the music. "Special occasion?"
"Just needed to get out of town for a night."
The guy nodded like he understood. "I'm Ben."
"Luke."
They talked for a few minutes—easy, surface stuff. Ben was a ski instructor, originally from California, who loved Colorado but missed the ocean. He was funny, good-looking, and clearly interested.
"You want to dance?" Ben asked.
Luke hesitated, then nodded. "Sure."
They slipped into the crowd. Ben was a good dancer, confident and sexy, with an easy rhythm. For a few songs, Luke let himself enjoy the escape.
But when they stepped off the dance floor, Ben asked, "Can I get your number?" Luke felt it, the answer forming before he could even think about it.
"I'm sort of seeing someone."
Ben's eyebrows went up. "Sort of?"
Luke laughed, but it came out hollow. "Yeah. Sort of."
"Sounds complicated."
"It is."
Ben nodded, stepping back gracefully. "Well, if it becomes less complicated, I usually come here on Saturday nights."
"Thanks."
Ben disappeared back into the crowd, and Luke stood there feeling like an idiot.
Because he'd turned down a perfectly nice guy who was genuinely interested in him. For what? For Jack, who'd missed his birthday party? For a man who'd responded to "I love you" with "thank you"?
Tyler appeared at his elbow. "You okay?"
"Yeah. I…" Luke shook his head. "I think I'm gonna head out."
"You sure? It's early."
"Yeah. Long day."
Tyler hugged him. "Text when you get home safe."
The drive back to Calder Ridge was quiet. Just Luke, the dark highway, and the radio playing songs he didn't really hear.
He'd gone out. He'd had fun. Someone had been interested in him.
And none of it had made him feel any better.
Because the problem wasn't that he needed a distraction. The problem was that he was in love with Jack Garrison, and Jack Garrison had chosen Something Else instead.
Again.
When he got home, Marley greeted him at the door like he'd been gone for days. Luke sat on the floor, letting the dog climb into his lap, all seventy pounds of unconditional love.
His phone buzzed. Another text from Jack.
Luke looked at it for a long time.
Then he set the phone aside and sat there with his dog, in his house, in his life he'd built from nothing.
Tomorrow, he'd deal with Jack.
Tonight, he was going to sit here and be okay.
And he was. Mostly.