Chapter 41 Luke
Luke
“Luke.”
I stared at the open notebook in front of me, the corner of the page dog-eared, and wondered why people did that instead of using a bookmark.
She used to do it constantly, folding pages with no rhyme or reason, always saying, ‘A book should look like it’s lived.
’ I couldn’t read anything without thinking of Hazel now.
“LUKE DAVIS!” A loud voice interrupted my scrambled egg brain. I looked up to see Williams watching me like a hawk. “Anything you want to add?” I looked at my team. Everyone was staring at me.
“Just that we should explore the possibility of involving Watson in Henley’s campaign.
Both have academic roots and a passion for promoting education.
It could create a powerful narrative for the brand and resonate deeply with the campaign’s target audience,” I said without skipping a beat.
I was distracted, but my brain always worked in the background.
“Good idea,” Williams said, checking his watch. “Let’s wrap this up. I have another meeting in five minutes. Keep me posted.” He hurried out, with Nadine, his secretary, following behind.
I pinched the bridge between my eyes. I was tired. I haven’t eaten much for the last couple of days. Eggs, mostly—for sustenance. I’d thrown myself into work from dawn until late at night, and it was starting to take its toll. I needed coffee. Just not from O’Rileys.
It’s been almost a week since we returned from Portugal, and I was as entertaining as a goldfish. I was either short with people or ignored them. At first, I blamed jetlag; now, I was just distracted and exhausted.
Hazel’s words repeated in my head.
It’s fine. We’re friends after all.
I did exactly what I had always done. And Hazel had done exactly what I wanted her to do.
I desired her, and I got her, multiple times.
I warned her I didn’t want a relationship, and she didn’t ask for one.
She promised nothing would change from her side, and nothing did.
Everything would be the same. No complications, no drama, no fallout.
So why on Earth was I such a mess?! Oh, but I knew why.
I’d always stayed away from love, and it wasn’t because I was immune to it. I just didn’t trust it. I had felt these stupid feelings once before, so as soon as I recognized them, I backed off, avoiding them like the plague.
Love, in my experience, led to pain. I’d seen what pain that stemmed from love looked like. I’d grown up watching it ruin people, and it was enough to enjoy the solitude.
Even Vanessa had texted, asking if I wanted to meet up.
I was so disgusted with myself that I didn’t reply.
The only thought I allowed myself when I tried to relieve some tension in the shower was Hazel.
Her beautiful body in front of me, the morning sunlight falling on her curves.
Her soft moans were engraved in my fucking brain forever.
She was mine that morning, like no one had ever been, and now I couldn’t even look her in the eye.
“Hey, man, you coming?” Ethan’s hand landed on my shoulder. “We’re grabbing coffee at Hazel’s.”
A mention of her name stung me back to reality, and I cleared my throat.
“No, you go. I have stuff to do,” I said, collecting my things.
“She’s finishing her shift right now,” he added as I was on my way to the door. “In case you wanted to catch up.”
But there was nothing I could say to her, so I kept walking, stifling a yawn. I really needed a coffee. Or five. But I wasn’t ready to see her pretending she was fine. Maybe she actually was. Maybe I was the one who wasn’t ready to pretend.
Six hours later, I was still buried in work.
I’d drafted plans and presentations for tasks that weren’t even my responsibility.
But when my last yawn stretched to five seconds, I knew it was time to call it a day.
I grabbed my jacket, glancing at my phone.
The official excuse was to check the time, but deep down, I sighed at the lack of messages.
On my way home, I stopped by the store. I’ve always enjoyed a party, but drinking alone wasn’t really my thing. Tonight, though, I wanted to numb the mess in my chest. To feel anything but this.
I scanned the shelves, full of all kinds of liquid memory loss potions, picked out some whiskey, and headed to the register when a familiar voice stopped me.
“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” Norah approached me with a soft smile and hugged me. She glanced at the bottle and raised an eyebrow.
“Hi,” I said, forcing a smile, but my voice was anything but happy. We could’ve small-talked, but we knew each other too well.
She studied me for a moment, and a flicker of compassion crossed her tanned features. My face dropped, and I pinched the bridge of my nose. I couldn’t pretend. I didn’t want to.
“Want some company?” she asked, and I nodded.
Funny how she was the one picking up pieces after me, right there, in the very spot where I’d found her all those months ago.
* * *
We came to my place, and I offered her a glass. We discussed the trip for a couple of minutes, but the conversation wasn’t very fruitful. I wasn’t exactly contributing much.
“So how are you doing?” she asked.
“Norah,” I laughed, “we met a few days ago.”
“I know, but I mean work-wise. Logan said things went well with that Watson guy.”
“Yes. He’s on board. Williams couldn’t be happier. Even promised me and Ethan an additional raise.” All I could manage were short sentences with the most vital information.
“That’s amazing. I’m so proud of you,” she said warmly, but I didn’t feel like I deserved it, even after all the hard work.
“I guess.”
“You don’t sound too happy about it.”
“Maybe I’m starting to get used to success,” I said, laughing dryly as I finished my drink. She watched me for a second before lifting her glass.
“How’s Hazel?”
I froze at the mention of her name, but pushed through. “I don’t know. Haven’t seen her.” Guilt spread through my chest.
What if she needed you, and you were too much of a coward to go?
“Why?”
“Been busy. A lot of work. Gotta earn that raise,” I lied through my teeth, pouring myself another glass. I suddenly felt weird around Norah, which never happened. She was usually the one I felt closest to. After a pause, her tone changed.
“Oh, man, you’re such a mess.”
I glanced at her, surprised.
“Don’t look at me like that. We all know. We all saw how you looked at her. It’s not rocket science, honey.”
I was stunned and relieved at the same time. My chest tightened at the rush of feelings spreading through me.
“I don’t know what to do, Norah,” I said, my voice breaking as something inside me finally gave way. The dam cracked, and the truth started pouring out. “I’m going crazy.”
“Was she just a good time for you?” she asked gently, like she already knew the answer but needed me to say it anyway.
“How can she be just a good time for me? You met her.” I stood up and walked to the window, then made a sharp turn.
“Like when she walks into a room, trying not to bother anyone, but suddenly you can breathe better when she’s around,” I laughed bitterly, the burn of alcohol scraping my throat. I ran a hand through my hair, frustration growing with every step.
“And she cares. God, she cares more than most people know how to, Norah. More than anyone has any right to. About everything. She notices things most people don’t.” My words spilled faster now, as if I had to get them out before they swallowed me whole.
“It’s ridiculous,” I snapped, voice sharper, pacing faster now, the floor a rhythm to my growing agitation. “How someone so soft and gentle can be like a sharp knife through my insides?” I chuckled, imagining Hazel loving the sight of my guts.
“She’s there in the back of my mind when I don’t want her to be, in the spaces between everything else. What the hell does she see in me that I can’t see in myself?”
I threw my head back for a moment, staring at the ceiling as if it might offer answers. Then, facing Norah, I tightened my grip on the glass, knuckles whitening.
“And you know the worst thing she did? After I lied to her, slept with her, and then pushed her away?” My voice faltered, raw with disbelief. “She still wished the best for me.”
I looked down, swallowing hard, letting the next part land somewhere deep in me, my voice dropping as the ache inside swelled.
“How can someone like that be called just a good time?”
Norah watched me in silence for a beat, completely stunned by my angry rant.
“Oh, man, you’re truly in trouble.”
No shit, female Sherlock.
She tilted her head and asked, almost in a whisper, “Do you love her?”
How beautiful and cruel of her to ask. The hardest question with the simplest answer. My face gave it away before I could even form a thought. A flicker of pain, of fear, of longing. Of love. She saw it instantly. I didn’t have to say it.
“I’m scared, Norah,” I said quietly in my glass.
“I know,” she replied. “But fear’s a shitty argument.”
That it was.
“I don’t think I can give her what she wants, what she deserves.
I don’t think I have it in me. I wasn’t raised like you guys.
The love I saw was bitter, complicated, always conditional.
Always ugly in the end. I don’t want that.
What if I bring that into her life?” I was violently tearing apart my heart.
“Luke, that’s ridiculous. You’ve got so much love in you, whether you see it or not.
Look at what you’ve done for me, for Alex and Ava.
You have so much to give. And yeah, that means you’ve got something to lose.
But it also means you’ve got something real to fight for. And I know you love a good fight.”
Her words swirled around in my head like the whiskey in my glass as I contemplated my past choices.
“I always went for girls I couldn’t mess up. I warned them, kept it casual. You’ve known me for years, Norah. It’s the way I am. How I’ve always been.” I sighed, defeated. By love. How cliché.
We’re all a compilation of our memories, shaped by what’s happened to us.
Hazel’s soft voice played in my head.
“But when she looks at me, she makes me forget that I’m this stuck version of myself for a moment. With her, I feel like maybe I want more out of life.”
“Luke, I know you struggle with the relationship you have with your parents. We all know, and please believe us when we say we don’t blame you.
And honestly, we may never fully understand what you’ve been going through with them, but please.
.. don’t let them make the decisions for you.
Because the real question is, do you want to be like this? ”
The more you understand your past, the better you can decide if you want it to shape your future.
I let out a long sigh. I didn’t have an answer for her. What if I lost her? What if the pain that I was feeling now was ten times more unbearable in the future?
Her voice softened, gentler now.
“Even if it doesn’t last,” the hypothetical already splintered my heart, “even if your paths part... don’t you think you’d still be grateful you lived it?”
The whiskey buzz curled warm and quiet through my chest. But not as warm as Hazel’s body pressed against mine under the sheets, her sleepy voice rambling off crazy facts about whales, music, and coffee beans.
“Norah,” I pleaded with her to stop as I buried my head in my hands, palms gripping the back of my neck, while liquid poison burned my throat.
She kept pressing on my trigger points, tearing open my soul, slicing open every wound. Asking the questions I didn’t dare to ask myself.
“Alright, alright,” she said, setting her glass down with a soft clink. “Just tell me this—do you regret bringing her with us? Even now, with everything you’re feeling? Would you erase those memories if you could?”
I froze. And suddenly I knew. Without needing to think, I lifted my head and met her eyes. “No,” I whispered, something stinging behind my eyes, sharp and quiet.
“Then don’t let her go. If you love her, Luke—if you really love her—go fight for her. And for yourself, too. I’ve never seen you so happy as you were on that trip. You were more yourself than I’d ever seen you.”
Norah smiled at me warmly. Truly a mother hen. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding, and her arms came around me.
“To choose who can break your heart is such a privilege,” she whispered. “Don’t waste it.”