“Maybe,” I say, looking out the window as we near Evan’s—correction, my—apartment.
“Get your sorry ass out of here and go start making a plan. I’ll check in on you later this week.”
“Thanks, Dean. For everything.”
“You’re welcome. Now I need to get going. I’m sure the other guys on the crew have been screwing around all day, and we’ve got a roof to get done. Not all of us can leap off the roof to get out of work, you know.”
I shake my head and grin before hobbling up the steps—very precariously—and heading into the apartment to sit and think.
Chapter Eleven
Luke
“You know, if you wanted attention, you could’ve got a mohawk or something. No sense throwing yourself off a roof,” Scarlet teases on Friday when she takes me to breakfast.
The good thing about being off work with a broken leg is I have plenty of time for socializing.
The bad thing is I can’t drive, and I have to depend on my crazy sister to get me around.
We pull into the Waffle Hut, and I limp into the restaurant on my crutches, Scarlet joking about racing me and all that.
“You’re not really helping things,” I complain when we get inside, me completely out of breath as a kind waitress leads us to the booth closest to the door.
“Oh, and when I broke my nose in seventh grade, you were nothing but kind.”
“Okay, that was different.”
“Yeah. I was a poor, defenseless preteen with confidence issues and you took advantage. You’re just an idiot who fell from a roof.”
“Thanks for your sympathy.”
“Anytime. Now, question. When are you going to get it together, big brother? Because right now, falling from the roof seems to be the least of your problems. You’re falling apart.”
“Again, your kindness is overwhelming.”
When the waitress comes, we both order coffees and put in orders for chocolate-chip waffles, our mutual favorite.
“Seriously, all jokes aside, I’m worried about you. You haven’t been the same since… well, you know.”
“I know. It sucks. I miss her. I want to man up and pretend it doesn’t matter, pretend I can just go out and find someone new, but I just can’t. She was everything to me.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“You’re going to anyway,” I say, and she shrugs.
“True. Why did you let her go, then, if you love her so much?”
I shake my head, averting my eyes. “Because I knew she needed more. It was becoming clear to me that I couldn’t be what she needed.”
“Why not?”
I look her in the eyes, raising an eyebrow. “Are you crazy? You know why.”
“No. I know what you’re blaming. But really, Luke? Is that what made you walk away and be miserable? Was it worth it?”
“I don’t know, Scarlet. But I knew I couldn’t give her what she needed. She made it clear she couldn’t settle for less.”
“But why couldn’t you give it to her?”
Now, anger starts to bubble. The feelings of inadequacy fester. “You know why, Scarlet. You know I can’t promise her that.”
“Luke, you’re not him.”
“You and I both know how similar we are. The music, the hair. Hell, even Mom knew it. After he left, she could barely stand to be around me because I was so much like him.”
“But Dad wasn’t all bad. You’re the good of him.”
“We don’t know that.”
“You wouldn’t do what he did,” Scarlet says, reaching for my hand. I soften at her touch.
“We don’t know that. In his position, hell, maybe I would. And I won’t risk that. I won’t risk doing that to Lila or to a kid. I’m not dad material, and I never will be.”
“But with Lila, you could be,” she says softly.
“I won’t take that risk. I won’t hurt a kid the way Dad hurt us, and I won’t risk it with Lila.”
“Did you tell her all this? Does she know why you feel the way you do?”
“She knows the story about Dad. She’s smart, Scarlet.”
“But sometimes in love, it’s not that easy to see. Maybe she’s reading your hesitancy differently.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter,” I say as the waitress sets our coffees in front of us. Scarlet stirs in some half-and-half while I warm my hand on the mug. “It’s over. I can’t give Lila what she wants, and I can’t ask her to settle for less. She deserves a stable man, a family man. I don’t want to risk the idea I won’t be that for her. She wants stability and promises I can’t give.”
“Because you’re scared.”
“Because I’m realistic. I’ve seen what marriage does to people.”
“But look at me. I’m happy,” Scarlet observes.
“You’re just a freak,” I say, smiling now.
“Luke, I’m just saying that you ended such a good thing based on fears of the future. Are you happy though?”
“It’s not about my happiness.”
“Which is exactly my point. The fact you’re willing to walk away out of fear of hurting her shows that you’re not Dad. You’re not him.”
I sigh, watching as the waitress carries our waffles out. I want to believe Scarlet. I wanted to believe this idea when Lila and I were having those conversations that would eventually lead me to here. I wanted to believe it when we officially ended it, when we were boxing up the life we’d shared. I wanted nothing more than to give Lila exactly what she was silently asking for. I wanted to assure her and myself that forever could work, and that we could start a family together.
I wanted to give Lila the life she deserved.
But as much as I wanted to turn around and promise forever to her, I couldn’t.
Because as much as I want to believe I’m not my dad, the selfless prick who up and left all those years ago, leaving a scar on my mom, my sister, and most of all, me, I can’t believe it. When I look in the mirror, I see him looking back. I see the wandering musician rooted in my soul. I see the need for fame, and I see the pull of the stage. I see the man who walked away at the lure of another woman, who didn’t look back to serve his selfish lusts.
I see a man who isn’t the picture-perfect, stable man a woman needs, a child needs.
I see Luke Bowman, the rebellious, rambling man who settled down for a while but probably can’t settle down forever.
In her eyes, I saw forever… but in the mirror, I see a man who couldn’t possibly get it right. I see a man too afraid to mess up because he knew what that felt like.
Now, looking into my coffee cup before I drown out the musings, I see Luke Bowman, the man who walked away from the love of his life because he couldn’t get the courage to promise her what she needed.
Chapter Twelve
Luke
“Sounds okay,” Evan says, handing me a beer as I look up at him. I’ve commandeered the front stoop to the apartment building, working on my songs. Evan was working on some business on his computer and told me my sad song was depressing him, so I came out here, the sun shining in my eyes.
“Thanks, I think,” I mutter, taking the beer as Evan has a seat.
“Do you write happy anymore?” he asks.
I shake my head. “Do you want to pour some more salt in the wound?”
“No. But I’d like to take you out.”
“Really?” I ask, motioning toward my foot. “Pretty sure I’m not going to be rocking the club in this thing.”
“First, let’s be clear. I’m not sure Luke Bowman could rock the club with two able legs.”
“I was a master of the club in my day.”
“And those days are long gone. But it’s time to reacquaint. Come on, I’ve got another hour of work and then let’s get out of this joint. Go have some real drinks, hang out with some real people. Because as much fun as it is watching you watch reruns of Game of Thrones, I just can’t anymore. Even Floyd is depressed watching you.”
I s
igh. He’s right. My life’s become this morose, revolving door of singing sad songs and watching television. Without even work to keep me going, it’s been pretty sad.
“Okay. I’ll come. But you owe me the first round. I’m unemployed, after all.”
“I think you owe me the second round for having to listen to your depressing songs. Although, speaking of it, bring your guitar. It’s open mic night.”
“I don’t know, man. I’m not in the mood.”
“Seriously? You’ve been waiting for your big break since high school. I don’t think you’re going to get it on this stoop playing to stragglers walking by.”
“I don’t think I’m ever going to get it, let’s be real.”
Evan looks at me seriously. “You’re good, Luke. For real.”
“You kicked me out and said my song depressed you.”
“Oh, it did. It’s hellishly depressing. But women go crazy for that thing. So at the very least, you might not get a recording contract, but maybe you’ll snag a chick out of it. Girls dig that shit.”
“I’m not looking for a girl.”
“Well, you should be. Maybe then you could write an upbeat song. Get your ass inside and get yourself looking presentable.”
“I don’t know why I agreed to move in with you,” I say as I pull myself to my good foot.
“Because you were desperate. And no one else would take your sorry ass in.”
“Truth.”
I hobble up the stairs and get ready for a night out, not really feeling it. I guess that’s life, though. Sometimes you have to put yourself out there, go outside what you want to do.
Chapter Thirteen
Lila
Queasy from all the birthday cake I ate, I wander out on the back porch with Henry to look at the stars.
Another year gone by, another sad wish on the candles at my mom’s insistence. Another year of wondering when life is going to be what I thought it would.
Maren and Will have gone home, and Grandma Claire is snoring on the couch. Mom and Dad are watching Survivor on television now that the birthday bash is over—complete with caviar, thanks to Mom.
Here I am, alone, sitting on the porch watching the stars with just Henry to keep me company. There’s no hot birthday sex happening tonight. It’s just me in my frumpy sweatpants with a greasy ponytail and worries about where I’ll be sitting next year at this time.
Christopher called yesterday to see if I wanted to go out today. He, of course, has no idea it’s my birthday. How could he? We’ve only been out twice. Two dates. Two great times, one sweet kiss, and numerous calls.
It should be enough.
But inside, every time I talk to him, I know it’s not. There are no butterflies. There’s no spark. He’s a great guy, absolutely amazing, and he’s extremely good-looking. He could give me what I want—the steady life, the commitment, the houseful of kids. We’d have this magazine-worthy, snapshot life.
But there would be no butterflies. There would be no tingle when he touched my hand, no light in my eyes.
Biting my lip, I study the constellations I learned in high school, wondering if that spark’s forever gone.
Staring at the sky, I think of the first time I realized the spark was real, and that the butterflies of movies weren’t the thing of fantasies. I think back to the moment that ruined every other man for me, every other moment.
Nothing, nothing, could ever be as magical as that first time we met.
***
Standing in the hallway of Park Lane Animal Hospital with my freshly pressed white jacket, I could barely stand still. My shift didn’t start for fifteen minutes, but I could hardly wait. I’d been working for this moment for eight years—eight years of nose-in-the-books work, of spending every cent toward this education. I’d earned the title, I’d walked at graduation, and I’d earned my parents’ pride. I’d done it.
And now my future began.
I was a little nervous. I’d interned at Park Lane Animal Hospital and, in truth, knew it better than I knew anything. Still, the first official day as Dr. Morrow was intimidating. I wanted to do a good job.
“Ready for the patients to roll in?” Zoey asked. We’d been friends all through high school. She’d actually helped me get the internship here, knowing the Park family so well.
“I hope so.”
“I’ve learned you never know what’s going to come through these doors,” she said, smiling as she handed me a cup of coffee. “Here, you’ll need this. I’d suggest one-shoting it because who knows when you’ll get a chance after those doors open. Of course, you know that. Relax. It’s not really your first day here.”
“Well, I just hope everything goes smoothly.”
And that’s when it happened.
The pounding on the glass out front, the man standing in the rain, holding up a carrier and desperately yelling for help.
So much for having a few minutes until opening. My first job was happening, and it was happening now.
***
“I’d like to just keep him overnight,” I said, writing down notes in the chart, finally feeling like I could breathe.
I looked across the room at the curly-haired man; Luke Bowman, the chart said. He was slouching in the chair in the office, looking visibly relieved. I knew what he was feeling. I wiped some sweat from my sticky forehead.
It'd been touch and go for a few hours. The truck that hit Floyd had been merciless, smashing the poor cat’s back leg and almost killing him. Floyd was just lucky to have gotten away enough to save his life.
“Is he going to be okay?” the man asked, his voice smooth and intriguing. It was endearing to see him so worried about Floyd. I could tell from the moment he walked in that he genuinely cared about the fluffy gray cat, and it made me smile to see a man so open about his concern for a living creature. I could tell animal lovers from a mile away, was drawn to them. Maybe it was just that. Maybe it was the curly hair. Maybe it was the voice.
Regardless, I cleared my throat, trying to clear my head and the faint feel of warmth spreading to my cheeks.
“He’s going to be fine. You got him here just in time.”
“Thank God. That cat is such a pain in the ass. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love him. I’m glad he’s going to be okay.” He looked up at me now, and I met his eyes with mine.
The exhaustion from the surgical procedures and the stress of saving Floyd melted. “Thank you,” Luke said, and I could tell he meant it.
“You’re welcome. I’m glad things worked out. I’ll keep a close eye on him personally.”
“Are you working all night?” he asked, standing now from his chair.
“No. But I’m going to stay. I want to make sure he’s okay.”
“No one would expect you to do that,” he said, obviously feeling bad.
“Hey, Floyd’s special to me, too. He’s my first official patient.”
“Wait, you’re just out of vet school?”
“Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing.”
“I know that,” Luke said. “I wasn’t insinuating.… It’s just, you seem so knowledgeable. It seems like you’ve been doing this forever.”
I grinned, feeling playful. “Really? Do I look that old?”
Luke grimaced, covering his eyes with his hand. “I’m sorry. No. I’m just screwing this all up. What I mean is, thank you, and I’m glad Floyd came to such an amazing vet. You’re amazing, Dr. Morrow. Seriously.”
And for whatever reason, I decided to step away from the professional cover of the coat and say, “Call me Lila.”
“Lila. Thank you. Are you sure you’re okay with staying?”
“Positive. I’ll call you if there are any changes.”
“Okay, then. I’ll see you soon?”
“See you soon. Don’t worry.”
“I won’t. I know Floyd’s in the best hands.”
He paused a moment, lingering with his hand on the doorknob. I thought he might say something else,
might continue the conversation. It felt weird having this… whatever this was… under the circumstances. Still, those eyes.…
“Lila! Porcupine incident in room four. We need you stat!” Zoey shouted.
I snapped back to work. “Duty calls. I’ll be in touch,” I shouted, rushing out of the room, glancing back at Luke Bowman one more time before carrying on with my day.
***
“Lila, don’t be crazy. Go home. It’s been a long day.” Zoey had her keys in her hand as she stood in front of me. I was perched on the sofa in the emergency holding room in the back, where Floyd was being kept. He was doing great, sleeping now after eating some food.
“I just want to make sure he’s okay. He’s really important to Luke.”
Zoey raised an eyebrow. “First-name basis, huh? Wait, this is the sexy curly-haired guy that pounded on the door this morning, right? Hell, honey, you’re right. Stay. Do anything to win that one over. He’s hot.”
“It’s not like that. It’s strictly professional.”
“Uh-huh. You tell yourself that. But listen, if you need anything, Dr. Benson is on call, and I’m just down the road.”
“I’ll be okay.”
“Okay, crazy. I’ll see you Wednesday then. Enjoy your day off tomorrow. You better be gone when I get here at ten in the morning.”
“I’ll try. I might still be sleeping.”
Zoey shook her head, mumbling something about psychosis before leaving. I cuddled under the scratchy throw someone had left after spending a night like mine, tucked in and ready to sit vigil over Floyd, thinking about the man who had rocked my first day at work.
A knocking on the front door startled me a few minutes later. Thinking Zoey had forgotten something and her key, I stretched, ambled out to the front, and paused at the sight of a familiar curly-haired man peeking in the window.
Still Us Page 9
