I thought Luke coming home would fix things, but I can’t shake this feeling. It’s there every time I wake up and there every time I try to fall asleep.

I’m filled with anxiety. It’s like the first days he was put away, and I was learning to live without him. Now I’m learning to live with him back in my life, and I don’t know what to do.

I’m torn about how to introduce him to Max. I’m worried my family will catch me trying to see him and kick me out. I’m afraid he’ll learn about my involvement with Slick and his release. I’m afraid he’ll do something stupid and get sent right back to prison.

There are a million reasons to worry, and I’m worrying about all of them, all at once, all the time.

I need to get a hold of myself. I have to find a way to unload some of this stress before it eats me alive.

Truth is, I have a lot to be happy about. I got Luke back, all my hard work and sneaking around actually paid off for something. I thought I would just keep toiling away forever, the only one in the world to believe that he’s an innocent man, but now I’m vindicated. He’s free and he’s home and he seems to still want me.

Or at least he wants to be in Max’s life. Raising a child on my own is an impossible task, though I managed to do it for years. I had the help of my family, of course. But I can’t imagine Max growing up without a father forever. I’d hate it if he were cursed with having a father stuck in prison.

But I don’t have to worry about that. Luke is home, and he’s innocent, and now the world knows.

Except it’s not that simple. People still look at him strangely. I still hear whispers about him, especially from my own family, but also from people close to us. My mother and father run with the most elite people in Maine, and they all look at Luke and people like Luke as if they’re trash. My father doesn’t care if Luke is innocent, he genuinely thinks Luke should be locked up anyway, just for being born in his family.

It’s awful. I hate very second of it, but I have to pretend like it’s okay, or at least not let on that I despise them so much.

After a few days of stressing, I finally give in. I can’t keep going on like this. So one afternoon, when Max is out playing in the yard, I make a phone call.

“Yeah?” Slick always answers his phone that way, short and to the point.

“Hi, Slick, it’s Avery.”

“Avery, what can I do for you?”

I hesitate a second. “Well, I have a request to make.”

“Got another job?”

“No, no job.”

“What is it, then?”

I sigh and look at the grass. Slick’s an older guy, the sort of person you’d see in a movie about a private investigator. He’s an ex-detective, left the police force for some mysterious reason he never actually talks about. He smokes like a chimney and always carries a gun on him, and he’s smart, maybe the smartest man I know. Except there’s a darkness about him that I can’t put my finger on.

I trust him, though. When Slick says he’ll do something, he does it. I’ve known him for a couple of years now, worked pretty closely with him on Luke’s case, and I never once saw him say one thing and do another. He’s exceedingly honest, almost to a fault.

“Luke knows about you,” I say to him. “I was hoping that you won’t mention my name when he comes to talk to you.”

Slick is silent for a second. “You’re still on that?”

“I am,” I say. Slick doesn’t think I should keep my involvement from Luke, and he’s not shy about saying it.

“Listen, I told you when we started, I respect your privacy above all else. You don’t want me to mention your name, I won’t.”

“Thank you,” I say, feeling relieved.

“But listen, Avery. I’ve been around these sort of things a long time. You can’t keep it from him.”

“I know you’re probably right.”

“He’ll react however he’ll react, but it’s better if it comes from you, and if it comes from you soon.”

I sigh and rub my shoe against the patio stones. I’ve heard this lecture once before, and it’s not going to change my mind, although I think he’s probably right. Maybe I’m a coward, but I can’t bring myself to do it.

“I’ll keep it in mind,” I say.

“What does he want with me anyway?”

“He’s doing his own investigation. He thinks you can help.”

“Huh. He does, does he?”

I hesitate a second. “I know you know something,” I say. “I know you’re keeping things from me.”

He doesn’t respond.

“Just, don’t let him get in trouble, okay?”

“I’ll do what I can,” he says.

“Thanks. I appreciate it.”

“I’d say take care, but I think I’ll be seeing you again soon.”

“You might be right about that.”

“Bye then.” He hangs up the phone.

I slip my phone into my pocket and sigh. Max is climbing in the little jungle gym my parents put up for him. I watch him playing, and suddenly I get a flash of inspiration.

I can see me and Luke, sitting outside of a house, watching Max just like this. We’re married and we’re happy, and we have nothing hiding between us. The truth is out, and it feels good.

I stand up suddenly and head inside. “Mom?” I call out.

“Yes?” my mom calls from upstairs.

“Can you watch Max for a bit? I need to head out.”

She comes down the stairs and looks at me over the bannister. “Where are you going?”

“Target,” I say.

“Okay. Just be quick.”

“Sure. Thanks. He’s just out back.”

She nods and comes down the steps. My mother is my height, very pale, with dark hair and lots of eye makeup. She’s holding a glass of gin, although she’ll try and pretend that it’s water.

“Have fun, dear,” she says a little wistfully, heading out back.

I grab my keys, get in my car, and drive. I’m not really thinking too clearly about this, but I’m going for it anyway.

Slick’s right. I can’t keep lying to Luke. It’s not going to get me anything. He might react poorly or maybe he won’t, there’s no way of knowing without telling him. I have to get over my fears and just do something about it.

I text him as I drive. “I’m coming to see you,” I say. “What’s your address?”

He answers right away with the number. I know exactly where it is. He doesn’t ask me why and I don’t want to have to explain.

I pull up outside of his place about ten minutes later. I get out, walk to his door, and knock. I’m nervous as hell and trying not to think about what I’m doing here. I’m just going to tell him the truth, let him know that I was the one who hired the PI to free him. Maybe he’ll flip out, angry that I didn’t tell him before, or maybe he’ll get angry that I did it at all. I don’t know how he’ll feel about it, and I’m afraid. I’m afraid of losing him again.

I buzz his apartment number and I hear the entry door click. I push it open, follow the stairs up, and head to the corner of the building. Once at his door, I knock quickly, stomach churning with nerves.

He answers the door. He’s wearing a gray sweatshirt and a pair of old, faded jeans. “Just showing up in the middle of the day now?” he asks, smirking.

“I just wanted to talk.”

“Good. Come in.”

I follow him into his place. It’s small, a little dingy and cramped, but it’s not too bad. He doesn’t have much furniture, and nothing decorating the walls. Football’s on TV and an old laptop is open on the coffee table.

“Nice place,” I say. “Looks like you got used to the whole prison thing.”

He laughs. “What do you mean?”

“There’s about as much charm in here as there is in a cell. Why don’t you buy a plant or something?”

“I’d kill it.” He heads into the kitchen. “Want something?”

“Water,” I say. “Thanks.”

He pours me a water and opens a beer. He hands it to me and raises his drink. “Cheers.”

“Cheers,” I say. I go to start talking, ready to blurt it all out, but he start talking first.

“I learned something last night.”

I pause. “What happened?”

“I went to the Miller, you know that bar all the mill guys go to after shift?”

“Sure,” I say. My father hates that place, calls it the rat-hole. My father always looks down on his employees, like working for him in his mill is the worst thing imaginable. I don’t know what that’s supposed to say about him.

“Well, I went there, met some nice guys. Apparently I’m a celebrity.”

“Not exactly,” I say.

He walks over to the TV and sits down on the arm of the couch. I hover near the kitchen, arms crossed.

“Yeah, well, they seemed to think so.”

“What happened?” I ask. “You shouldn’t have been there.”

“Why not?” he asks.

“I don’t know. I just…” I trail off, shrugging. I don’t know why he should stay away. I just get a bad feeling, imagining him around my father’s people.

“Well, I ended up asking about the man that bribed the night clerk. And they told me that the description matches a guy named Dominic.”

The name rings a bell. “The security guy, right?”

He nods. “That’s right. You didn’t think of him?”

I shrug a little. “I mean, so many people work for my dad. I’ve never even met him, just saw a picture once.”

“Well, he fits the description. Wrist tattoo included.”

“That’s odd,” I say. “Why would he be involved?”

Luke gives me a look but he doesn’t answer my question. “The guys got freaked when they said his name. Like it was dangerous or something.”

“Dangerous?” I echo.

“Right. It was weird. Really weird.”

“Oh.”

I don’t know what to say. My plan to tell him the truth is suddenly unraveling in front of me. I’m losing my nerve and I know it.

He stands up suddenly. I meet his gaze and I see something there that surprises me even more.

It looks like he’s burning. It’s hard to explain, but the old Luke used to get this look in his eyes, like his mind was on fire with ideas and excitement. He used to get that look a lot, especially talking about his plans for the future. We’d sit up and talk on the phone all night, sometimes just texting, sometimes sending pictures over Snapchat. But always he had that look when he was excited about something.

He has it now, and frankly, I love it.

It’s intoxicating. He’s clearly excited about this information, although it really worries me. But this look, it’s like the old Luke is back, right here, and we’re kids again, like nothing ever happened to tear him away. All the old hurt and fear and anger is suddenly sucked out of the room and it’s just the two of us, kids one more time.

He walks up to me, getting closer. “I feel like I’m finally getting somewhere,” he says softly. “Ever since getting home, I haven’t felt like I belong here. Like people look at me strange.”

“You belong here. This is your home.”

“It was until everyone turned their backs on me.”

I want to tell him that I never, ever turned my back on him, but I can’t.

“It doesn’t matter, though,” he continues. “I’m out, and I’m going to make up for lost time. I’m not sitting around, waiting for things to happen. I’m taking what I want.”

“What do you want?” I ask softly.

He walks up to me, runs one hand through my hair the way he used to, pulls my body against his, and he kisses me.

It surprises me at first. But as soon as I relax and lean into the kiss, it’s like coming home.

This is what I’ve been dreaming about these last five years. Kissing Luke again is everything I wanted it to be, and actually so much more. All the weight of our history, all our failed plans and broken dreams, it all makes this so much more intense. I press tighter, needing every second, every taste.

It’s Luke, it’s really him, and he kisses the same. It feels so good, so incredibly good, that for a second I totally forget why I’m here.

But a second later, it all comes crashing back to me. I pull back from him, realizing what I’m supposed to be doing, and I freak a little bit.

“I shouldn’t have done that,” he says.

“No, it’s not that,” I say, shaking my head. “I wanted you to. God, I’ve been needing that, for years.”

“I’ve been thinking about you every day, Avery. Your lips, your taste, all of it.” His eyes are so hard against me, but I can’t take it.

“I have to go.” I turn and quickly leave his apartment, although it physically pains me to do it.

I couldn’t tell him. And now I just ran away after he kissed me.

What the hell is my problem? Why can’t I just let myself be happy?

Maybe I don’t think I deserve it. Or maybe I don’t think I deserve Luke. I wanted that kiss so badly, and it felt so damn good, and yet it scared me. It made me freak out and run away, but I don’t want to run away. I can’t stop myself as I head back to my car, tears in my eyes. I didn’t even accomplish what I set out to do.

I feel stupid and small and weak. I want to go back up there and explain to him why I just panicked, but I can’t make myself do it. I’m embarrassed, honestly. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.

There’s no playbook I can follow here. Our situation is about as unique as they get. I wish I could get some kind of guidance, but I know that I’m on my own. I want Luke so badly it hurts, but I’m afraid of having him.

I drive back home, trying to keep the tears from spilling down.