“Luce—” he began, even though he had no idea what he was about to say.
Whatever it was, he didn’t say it when her head jerked his way and he caught the fire warring with hurt in her gaze.
He did that to her. He’d intentionally made her pissed.
He’d also intentionally hurt her.
He’d done that.
And that didn’t make him feel like a dick.
That made him feel like a motherfucker.
Shit.
“I loved him,” she declared. “This is not news to you. I mourned him when he was gone, this is not news to you either. You witnessed it. You were there to help me work through it. In ways all my own, I will mourn him forever. More that is not news to you, as you know how much I loved him and you also know what kind of man he was, so you know he deserves that kind of grief because he earned it.”
She paused, and Hap said nothing because there was nothing to say.
He did know all of this.
Luci kept going.
“I honestly don’t know what to say to you to make you feel better about this. The truth is, we would not be what we are if he was here. We both know that. But he’s not here. That was where life took us, Hap. Us, the both of us. I cannot say what Travis would say about us being together. It was not a possibility when he was alive. I would hope he’d want me to be happy. I would hope he’d want me to feel again what I felt last night when you were making love to me. What I felt this morning when I woke up beside you. What I felt when I came downstairs to cook you breakfast. But I cannot say for certain he’d be happy I was happy with you or if he’d be angry at us both. What I do I know is he is no longer here. So he does not get a say.”
She drew in breath and this time Hap didn’t get a chance to chime in because she didn’t give him a shot.
“I also know I’m happy . . . with you. With you, Hap. Look at me and listen to me and please, God, believe me. I am not making breakfast for my dead husband. I’m not sleeping at his side. I’m not making love to him. I am absolutely not using you to be with him, to get back what I had with him, to play pretend to have some part of him back. I’m here with you. And if you can’t get there with me, if you can’t believe that, if you even think I’d use you like that, I’ll find my way home and this will be done. I’ll also find a way to us having some sort of relationship that won’t make it hard for those who love us to be around us. But after what we’ve shared, you’ll need to back off and give me time to get there.”
She would end it.
All he had to do was tell her he couldn’t get past Gordo and she’d end it.
That was all he had to say.
He stood there looking at her and said nothing.
“Why don’t you take the day,” she suggested after he remained silent. “I’ll call a rental car company and have a vehicle on standby should you come home and wish me to leave. Now, if you don’t mind finishing breakfast, I’m going to get dressed and take a walk.”
She didn’t wait for him to respond.
She tossed the fork on the counter and marched out of the kitchen.
Hap didn’t move.
She’d given him his out. No screaming, shouting or tears. He’d crossed a line and she’d laid it down for him and left it to him to decide, promising that even if it was over, it wouldn’t be over.
He had an out.
He stood still and stared at where she’d disappeared and stayed right there even after some time had passed, and he heard his front door open and close.
The only reason he moved was when he smelled the bacon burning.
He threw that out, cooked more, scrambled some eggs, ate them with the bacon then went up and showered, shaved and got dressed.
He came back down, made more eggs, left them and the rest of the bacon on a plate in the oven on warm and wrote a note to her to tell her where to find her breakfast.
Then he put a key under the mat at the back door and texted her the info on where to find it.
Finally, he locked up, hauled his ass in this truck and went to work knowing when he got home they’d be over.
But they wouldn’t be over.
He was good with that.
And it killed him.
That night when Hap got home, he walked into a tidy kitchen but the only thing he saw was the key he’d left for Luci sitting on the counter.
At the sight, he felt his throat get tight, his gut constrict like it wanted to force the bile in his stomach up his gullet, and his eyes shot to the living room.
The TV was dark. Luci was not to be seen.
But her black bag was sitting on the floor by the front door.
Christ.
Unlike the time between leaving her on Sunday and picking her up on Wednesday, when she texted frequently just because, and he texted her back, she had not texted him that day. Outside telling her where to find the key to get in, he also had not texted her.
But he figured she’d spent the day not like him, not feeling like an asshole and trying to convince herself it was for the best that she’d acted like that.
She’d likely spent the day just plain pissed at him for being an asshole.
He caught sight of her as she rounded the bottom of stairs, her purse over her shoulder, a suede jacket on, ready to roll.
Ready to roll.
Oh yeah.
She’d spent the day pissed at him for being an asshole.
And yeah.
He’d been right that morning.
This was going to kill him.
She stopped at the door and asked, “Shall I order a taxi?”
“Gordo was still here, but something happened to Sam, and what was going on with us went on with me and Kia, how would you feel?”
She shook her head sharply, instantly ticked, or more ticked, but she also paled, he could see it all the way across the room.
“Do not even speak of something happening to Sam,” she snapped.
“Answer the question, Luce.”
“That hasn’t happened. That won’t happen.”
“Answer the question, Luciana,” he pressed.
“It’s impossible to say because it didn’t happen that way,” she fired back.
“No. You just won’t say it because if it happened, you would not be where Kia is, okay with the idea of us not having been around when Gordo was here so not knowing how it was. You’d be pissed.”
She tipped her head to the side angrily. “Are you saying I’m interchangeable with whatever woman was left behind by one of your buddies?”
Oh no she didn’t.
Hell no.
“Now you’ve pissed me off,” he growled. “You know what I’m asking, Luci. You just won’t answer because you refuse to concede the point.”
She looked to the door then back to him, and he knew she’d hunkered down for a fight when she did.
“So are you saying you care more about what Sam thinks, what Travis would think, than what I think or what you feel?”
“I’m saying you don’t get to shut shit down just because you don’t get it,” he shot back. “You want what you want and you just want everyone to be okay with it when it’s not okay. It’s not black and white. Just what you feel or what I feel and people have to get it, and if they don’t, they have to deal. There’s people, dead and alive, people we both care about that are involved in this and that’s gonna weigh on my mind. So this is not a ‘deal with it, or don’t, just tell me what you decide and then I’ll go’ type of sitch.”