Chapter 33
Luke
It’s been a week and we’re no closer to finding this bastard then we were when this all began. I sent a couple guys to his last known address, but there was no sign of him there, which wasn’t unexpected since he had been hanging around the hotel. For all intents and purposes, we’re beginning to wonder if he had given up, but we all know the likelihood of that is slim. So, we’ve gone about our lives as best as we’re able to. Emily and I still go to the office when we need to, but for the most part, we work from my house.
That’s the only bright side to this entire situation; we’ve been living together this entire time. Except for the first night when she slept in a guestroom, every other night she’s been sleeping in my bed. I love falling asleep with her in my arms and waking up to find her still there in the morning. In many ways, it reminds me of our time in the basement because we sleep the exact same way.
We’ve also spent the last week getting to know each other again. We both have a lot of quirks from our experience, but I’m surprised to learn that Emily doesn’t have an issue with darkness the way I do. For me, it doesn’t matter where I am or how prepared I try to be, if I’m surrounded in total darkness I have to fight off a panic attack. Emily is bothered by darkness only in unfamiliar places, which I’ve learned is why she tries to memorize every room she walks into. Darkness didn’t bother her at her dad’s house because she knew where everything was already and trusted her dad to keep her safe. She says she feels the same way being here.
“Did you tell any of your ex’s about how you got these?” I gently glide my hand over the scars on her back.
“No,” she answers quickly. “I never let anyone see them.”
“How is that possible?” As much as I would like to think that in the last ten years she wasn’t with anyone else, I know that’s highly unlikely.
“I told you I didn’t date much,” she blushes. “There were…I was only with two guys…besides you, I mean. I made sure the lights were off before…”
“Still, they must have felt them.” The scars we both bear on our backs, legs, arms, and stomach are not only visible but several are raised.
“Car accident.” She shrugged. “What about you? Did you ever tell anyone?”
“Once.” I wince at the memory. “Not at first. Like you I lied about how I got them. Told them I fell off a ladder and left it at that. Someone pushed once and that was the end of it. Anyway, I had been seeing this woman for a few months. Alec and I were just starting Dark Water Security, so things were incredibly hectic. She never complained though and we got together when I could. One night, the four of us—Alec’s wife was there—went out to celebrate signing our first big client. We had way too much drink and took a cab back to her place. I don’t remember what brought it up, but she started questioning my ladder story, telling me that unless I rolled in the glass after it broke it wouldn’t explain all of my scars.
“She was right. I knew the story was flawed, but it was the best I could come up with. I broke down and gave her the cliff notes version of what had happened. There were a lot of things I left out, but even with the little I told her she couldn’t look at me—”
“Why the hell not?!?!” Emily rolls over and faces me, the anger evident in her face.
“Because every time she did, she looked at me with pity. I’ll never forget that look as long as I live. I don’t need someone to pity me, and having her look at me like that was too much. I grabbed my shit, called a cab and left. I never heard from her again.”
“What a bitch.”
“She wasn’t…it was a lot to handle—”
“No, it wasn’t! It was horrible, yes and she had every right to be shocked, and hell, even feel sympathy for what you went through. But she had no right to pity you…to pity us!”
“You were smarter than I was to not tell anyone the truth.”
“No, I wasn’t because it only just proved that I couldn’t let myself trust anyone. If you can’t tell someone about the worst time in your life, what does that say about your relationship with them? The only thing not telling people did was help me keep everyone at arm’s length. My therapists all told me at some point I’d have to tell someone what happened, if to no one else other than the person I fell in love with. But I guess I feared exactly what happened to you, that they would look at me different.”
“That’s why you didn’t tell me who you were during the interview,” I realize. “You didn’t want me looking at you differently.”
“I knew the moment I told you who I was that you would think of me as the scared fifteen year old again. The girl who cried in your arms every night, who spent seven long months sharing her worst nightmare with you. I wanted you to see me for who I am today, not who I was then.”
“You’ll always be that girl to me.” I press my finger to her lips when she tries to object. “But you’re also so much more than that. You’re also the person who got me through that nightmare, who gave me a reason to survive, who gave me the strength to fight back, who, even when we were separated, gave me a reason to push forward. You’re so much more than that scared fifteen year old, Em.”
“I love you, Luke.” Her lips are on mine before I can respond, but we both know that no response is needed. I’ve loved her for the last ten years, just as much as I suspect she’s loved me all this time. I don’t think it’s possible to go through what we went through together, without falling in love. Horrific circumstances may have brought us together, but the bond that we shared all those nights when he wasn’t around is what made today possible.
“I love you, Emily.”