The day continued downhill from there, and I’ll just hit the highlights for you. I smashed my finger in the file cabinet drawer, got a paper cut on my thumb, dropped my pen under my desk and hit my head coming back up, misplaced two more files, hung up on another attorney that had called to speak to Floyd (accidentally, I swear!), and dropped a whole box of small paperclips all over the floor and had to crawl around to pick them all up. Not to mention that I keep getting hang up calls all day long. Then, when I went out to my car to leave for the day, I realized I had locked my keys in my car. Since I didn’t have my purse, I didn’t have my cell phone or my wallet. Thank God I had my work keys so I could call my dad to bring my spare car key that I kept at their house just in case. Too bad that I had to wait two hours for him to get there because he was in the middle of something.

I finally walked in my front door just after seven, but my day of horror didn’t stop there. My heel caught on the edge of the carpet where the tile entryway ended and I pitched forward, my arms wind milling to try and catch my balance. That didn’t work and I went down hard, clipping my cheek high on my cheekbone by my eye on the edge of the coffee table.

Which is why I was now lying on the floor, half under the coffee table, sobbing uncontrollably. Any why my face hurt so frickin’ bad! After a minute, I got up to check my face because when I put my hand up to wipe my tears away, I realized that it wasn’t all tears running down my face. I ran to the bathroom and looked in the mirror, staring in horror at the small cut in my cheek that was bleeding down my face, now dripping onto my sweater that was already ruined by coffee. A dark bruise was already forming.

I cleaned myself up, took a hot bath to try to relax, and wrapped myself up in my robe before curling up in the corner of my couch with my cell phone to see if I had any missed calls. I had one from Allie, but no one else. Not that I really expected otherwise.

I called Allie back to see what she wanted, but also to vent about my day. I wasn’t expecting what I got when she answered.

“Emma?” Allie asked as she answered the phone.

“Yeah, Al, sorry I didn’t have my phone on me because I forgot it at home with my purse today. You wouldn’t believe the day I had-”

“Yeah? You had a bad day? Well so sorry to hear that, Emma, but maybe its your karma. What the hell is wrong with you?” she yelled at me.

“Allie, what are you talking about? I don’t need you yelling at me after the day I’ve had, that’s for sure, so talk fast before I get pissed!” I hollered at her.

“Emma, you’re a moron. I ran into Brandon today and he asked what the fuck happened between you and Luke. So that’s what I wanna know! How could you fuck this up already, Em? We had this conversation yesterday, Leah and I both told you to go for it because you’re stupid if you didn’t! He’s told you clearly that he’s into you, but you’re letting Douche Bag Brad effect what could be something good, something right for you!”

“Allie, you don’t understand,” I started before she interrupted me again.

“You’re right, Em, I don’t understand. And I think you’re just over thinking everything and letting yourself get in your own way. What happened yesterday after he carted you away?”

I sighed, knowing that I probably was gonna piss her off even more. “He took me to his house, where he and Brandon live. We talked, he told me about his life, his and Brandon’s. He opened up to me and we…you know…twice…and then Brandon came home. They were just standing there, just so out of my league and I just…I’m a bitch.” There was no way around it. Luke had opened up to me and I had pushed him away.

“God, Allie, what am I gonna do?” I moaned. “I don’t know why I panicked, but I did. He was just standing there and all I kept thinking about was douche bag, and I don’t want to go through that again! I’m stupid, I’m a moron…I’m a bitch,” I said, repeating myself from earlier.

Allie didn’t mince words, either. “Yeah, Emma, you are. So fix it. Brandon told me that Luke has been in a foul mood since he got back from taking you home yesterday. He said that Luke hasn’t ever pursued any woman in his life. They’ve always flung themselves at him, but he’s never been one to let anyone in. Somehow you’ve gotten under his skin, so fix it. Now, Emma.” And then she hung up on me.

I stared at my phone for a minute, torn. I decided to take the coward’s way out and send a text to Luke, rather than call.

Hey. Its Emma. Can we talk for a minute? I hit send.

And got an immediate reply. Busy. Sorry. Maybe tomorrow.

Tears welled up in my eyes, silently coursing down my cheeks. I felt awful. I slowly got up off the couch and went to bed, hoping tomorrow would be a better day.

The week dragged by, and I was getting tired of the horrified and pitying looks I kept getting from everyone. I had one lady that came in for an appointment with Floyd, took one look at my face, ran around behind the counter and grabbed me up in her arms. She kept hugging me and crying, squeezing me tight while chanting, “He’s not worth it, honey. Get out now, baby, please, please!” That was awkward.

I’ll admit that it probably did look like someone had punched me in the face. I had a black eye where the bruising on my cheek had spread, and a scab where the cut had been. I tried to cover most of it with makeup, but it was so tender that it hurt too much to do.

I hadn’t talked to anyone except Jenna. Allie and even Leah was avoiding me, Calland was off being Calland, and, because I’m a coward, I hadn’t tried texting Luke again. So why I found myself standing outside his shop Friday night eluded me. I took a deep breath before walking in the door, knowing I had to do this.

I walked through the lobby, heading for the counter, my eyes on the tall, dark, and gorgeous man standing there with his back to me. Luke turned around, his expression hardening as he realized who was standing at the counter, but his face changed to dismay when he saw my face and he came striding around the counter.

His hands bit into the flesh of my upper arms as he grabbed me roughly, growling, “I’ll kill him. Who’s the fucking asshole who hit you, Emma?”

I shivered at the soft dangerous tone of his voice and the flash of anger in his eyes. I reached up between us, as much as I could, and laid my palms on his chest. “Luke, no one hit me. I’m okay, I promise.”

He took a deep breath in and loosened his grip on my arms, and I couldn’t help my slight flinch when he let go. He saw it and narrowed his eyes at me before running his hand down my arm to grasp my wrist and pull my arm up to look at it. He pushed the wide, loose sleeve of my sweater up my arm and ran his fingertips lightly over the slowly darkening marks where his fingers had bit into me.

He drew in a breath, and his faced looked pained as he whispered, “Oh God, Emma, I’m so sorry. I hurt you, sugar…”

I just shook my head at him and told him quietly, “Its ok, Luke. You didn’t really hurt me, you were just upset. I’m sorry for just showing up out of the blue like this. I guess its pretty shocking…” I trailed off.

“Yeah, baby, it is. What happened anyway?” He brought his hands up to cup my cheeks, running his thumb softly over the edge of the bruise slowly fading on my cheek.