Chapter 48
Luke
We came to my apartment and I sent her to shower as soon as we stepped in.
“I’ll find some spare clothes for you. Extra towels are on the shelf.”
I didn’t have much that would fit her, but luckily, in the farthest corner of my closet, I found some old training pants that I had when I was sixteen, and added the same shirt Hazel made fun of on the trip. The clothes wouldn’t exactly fit her, but at least she wouldn’t drown in them.
I slipped into the bathroom to drop her clothes on the washing machine, but just as I turned to leave, a quiet sob stopped me.
My hand tightened on the door handle, while every particle in me fought not to step into that shower.
I leaned my forehead against the door and closed my eyes, imagining holding her.
I’m here for you.
In the living room, I made tea, ordered food, and set up the couch with pillows and blankets, being more at ease in this quiet domestic rhythm than I’d ever been. Just taking care of my girl.
I’m not your girl. Yes, you are.
The bathroom door opened, and Hazel walked out, wet hair, all fresh and sweet. I felt the familiar pull when Hazel was in my presence, and it took some willpower not to act on it.
“Thank you. I’m surprised you have something that fits me.” She pulled at the elastic waistband. Her rosy cheeks accompanied her cozy look and sweet smile.
“Yeah, well, high school Luke didn’t believe in leg day,” I smirked.
“His loss, my gain,” she said with a playful smile.
No, Hazel, it was definitely my gain.
She wandered around my apartment, taking in all the smallest details, and stopped at my bookshelf.
She lightly grazed her fingers over Byron’s selection, and I made a mental note to remember everything she touched in this place.
However, it was hard to concentrate on anything other than her lips.
I definitely spent more time on them than was socially acceptable.
“Wow,” she admired, “you really are an all-book-genre type of guy.”
Hazel turned around, and my eyes instantly fell on her curves. Her wet hair clung to her skin, and she was swallowed by my hole-riddled oversized clothes, making her look like a cute little hobo. It was, without question, the sexiest sight I’d ever seen.
“Tea?” I asked.
She nodded, and I averted my gaze not to make her uncomfortable. After all, she was just attacked and was spending the night not at her apartment. But she was definitely safer with me than at her place. I hoped she knew that.
We settled into the sofa. A small moan escaped her, her body sinking deeper into the cushions. The need to hold her in my arms intensified, but I held myself in check.
“So... tell me what happened tonight and spare no detail.”
She froze for a second, worry in her eyes and a hint of shame in her voice. “Why?”
“So I know how much damage I should inflict on the man who threatened to hurt you.” My voice got cold and sharp.
“He didn’t hurt me, and there will be no damage inflicted.”
“Hazel,” I said with a warning.
“He... He was heartbroken. And drunk. He couldn’t figure out why I didn’t want to be with him anymore.”
“That’s why I should help you make things clearer for him.” I didn’t hide my frustration.
“This time, I made sure that he knows.” Her voice was small, but quietly proud.
“Tell me.” My voice got softer. She sighed.
“He had tried reaching out to me before, but I avoided him, so he came for answers. Or maybe something more—reconciliation, I guess.”
My chest tightened with a mix of frustration and sympathy. I wanted to tell her that he didn’t deserve a fraction of her light, that he was a piece of shit, but the words felt too heavy for this moment.
“He tried to get into the coffee shop and ended up breaking the window, hence the blood on the floor.”
Good, I thought to myself.
“What about the broken chair in the corner?”
She hesitated, her eyes avoiding mine. “He broke that accidentally, too.”
Liar. I exhaled slowly to keep my temper in check.
Her voice got smaller. “He blamed me for everything. Said I ended things out of nowhere.” She drew in a shaky breath. “And then, I just... snapped.”
My eyebrows arched in surprise.
“I told him everything. About the nights I felt invisible. The way I kept reaching for him. How he refused to see me when I needed him.” Her eyes held a quiet sorrow, but the kind that’s no longer sharp.
The kind that can’t hurt you anymore. “I told him what it felt like to slowly disappear next to someone who promised they loved me, but never really cared for me.”
At that moment, a quiet realization washed over me—how extraordinary it was that tonight, we had both fought for our own truths. How much courage it took to strive for the person you wanted to be.
“What happened then?” I still waited for some big bombshell she would drop on me.
“Nothing. I told him it was over and he should accept that. Okay, maybe ‘told’ is too generous, ‘yelled’ would be more accurate. Ugly crying and all.”
I lightly grazed her knee with my thumb.
“And then he left. Heartbroken.” She lowered her gaze in guilt.
“That was the least of how he was supposed to leave,” I reminded her.
“I didn’t want to make him feel worse, but I just lost it. Like my body refused to hold it in any longer.”
After a moment, the image of him bleeding on the floor rushed through my mind. “Did you patch him up?”
“I may have given him a napkin or two,” she tried to hide a small smile. “But I resisted the temptation to look at the cut.”
A laugh escaped me at how effortlessly she could disarm me. Hazel and her weird obsession with bodily functions.
“I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing,” I exhaled with a laugh.
“It is what it is.”
After a moment, something in my chest unraveled, a softness I hadn’t expected. “You called for me.”
Her eyes met mine, raw and vulnerable. In that fleeting moment, I could see all the quiet fears and unspoken truths that lay hidden beneath the surface.
“Yeah...” she whispered, her voice fragile, as though it might break if she spoke too loudly. I laid my palm gently on hers, my thumb brushing her skin. Her lips parted, but no words followed, only the weight of everything that had happened between us.
“I’m glad you did,” I said softly, watching her shoulders ease into the calm that had finally settled over her.
“I’m sorry I scared you back there. The confrontation, all those months of silence and holding things back, it just..
. it all came rushing out. I wasn’t physically injured or anything,” Hazel murmured, letting her gaze drop to the cup in her hands, trying to peel off an invisible label.
“I’m just shaken up,” she paused, her face tightening, like the floodgates of emotion were fighting to break free.
As if she were trying to convince herself. “I’m fine.”
“Hazel,” I sighed, turning my body more toward hers.
“Pain is pain. It doesn’t matter that you weren’t injured.
Thank God you weren’t, or that sucker would have bled more than that.
” I watched her closely, needing to make sure she understood, needing her to know that it was okay to be raw, to not hide behind silence or restraint.
“You have every right to feel sad, angry, and hurt,” I continued, my voice thick with a protective urgency. “And you have a right to say it. Out loud. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”
I let the moment stretch, searching for the right words, careful not to call her out but to make space for her instead, hoping she’d let me in on her terms, not mine.
“People will always want to be around you when you’re happy, but life is not just sunshine and rainbows.
There is a lot of sadness in us. Some darkness, too.
And it’s okay to talk about the darkness.
You should.” I held her gaze, silently begging her to see that her pain and hardships weren’t a burden, but a necessity for her to truly be alive.
That to me, it was nothing but a privilege—a proof that she trusted me enough.
“It’s okay to feel the heaviness out loud sometimes. ”
She nodded, her head sinking back against the cushion in a quiet surrender. In acceptance. But I could sense something else lingering in her thoughts, and after a moment, she said, “You avoided me. This past week.”
Not a question. A fair statement. A truthful observation.
Guilt climbed up my throat, strangling my tongue. I couldn’t lie to her. Not anymore.
“Yes, I did.”
She lowered her gaze. “Because you don’t usually see the women with whom you—”
“Because I was an asshole.” She didn’t need to finish for me to know what she thought. “Because I was sad.”
What a fool she was for thinking that. What an idiot I’ve been for letting her. I would never consider Hazel in the same category as other women I’ve slept with. She would always be the only one in her own category. Ever.
“You also sent me a stone.” Another statement.
“I did.” Another confession.
“Thank you,” she murmured. “For being with me on that day.”
I felt some tension melting away between us, and I smiled at her. “Anytime.”
“So, I have a question,” she said, her mood shifting right before my eyes as well as her position on the couch. She was now further from me, but she stretched out her legs on the sofa with her tiny toes lightly brushing my thighs.
“What are we watching?” she nodded toward the TV I’d set up, and I felt my spirits lift, too.
“Well, we have Netflix or cable, but I was thinking we could watch this.” I showed her the DVD, and she paused.
“But that’s... You told me you only watch it on January 1st.” A flicker of hesitation crossed her face, but her eyes curved into a smile.
“Don’t worry, we’ll watch it then, too,” I said, my voice carrying a quiet promise. “But if you want, we can watch something else,” I added.
“No, no, I do,” she replied without hesitation. “I really do.”
“Good,” I said, excitedly grabbing her ankle when Hazel’s whole body suddenly winced in pain, and I froze. We both locked eyes, dread and fear rushing through my head.
“You said he didn’t hurt you.” My voice low and dangerous.
“He didn’t. I—” She tried to pull her leg away, but I quickly yanked the sleeve of her pants up to see what kind of damage was there.
“Hazel, don’t lie to me. If he—” I stopped myself mid-sentence, my breath catching as I finally saw her ankle.
The skin was delicate, a slight reddish tint, and on it, a freshly made tattoo etched into her skin.
The very same drawing I had sketched for her with a Sharpie in Portugal.
The same place. The same design with some improvements.
My heart skipped a beat, disbelief clouding my thoughts as I looked up at her.
“I had it made yesterday. I just... I just loved it too much,” she confessed, her eyes nervous, holding my gaze as if waiting for me to scold her or think it was ridiculous. How could I? I lightly brushed my fingers along the inked lines and felt goosebumps forming on her leg.
I can’t believe she had it made.
Time froze, and for that small, fleeting moment, we were in that small bubble again.
My fingers traced the curve of her calf, drifting past the ink of her tattoo, and a soft sigh escaped her lips.
The air thickened, the pull between us undeniable.
My gaze fell to her lips, and for just a heartbeat, I was on the verge of closing the distance, of reaching for her soft cheek, when—
Ding dong!
Our gazes remained locked. Neither of us dared to move.
“I ordered food,” I said, but stayed put, still holding her leg in my hands.
“Good, good. I love... food.” She said the last word softly, like it had a different meaning in her mind. We both knew it did.
I reluctantly let her go, cursing Murphy and his stupid law on my way to the door. When I came back, we both settled into a cozy atmosphere, chatting, watching the movie, eating sushi.
I told her how absurd, funny, and strangely captivating the briefcase-swapping scene in Oscar was.
Almost the cinematic equivalent of watching a surgeon juggle scalpels mid-operation.
She laughed before launching into real medical horror stories and explaining to me why I was wrong, while I just tried to capture the warmth of her presence.
For the first time, I felt it in my bones how much I wanted this kind of life.
A life with Hazel in it.
As the credits of the movie rolled on the screen, I realized she had fallen into a peaceful, deep sleep, her head resting gently on my shoulder, her breath steady and calm.
And when the tiniest moan escaped her as I pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, I wondered how on Earth I ever dared to push her away, when my body and my heart knew she belonged here, in my arms, all along.