LUCIAN DISAPPEARED DOWN THE HALL and shut himself into his office while the rest of us sat at the table in silence.
He didn’t want to believe what Father Hawk had just implicated, and I knew Father Hawk felt horrible for saying it at all. Nothing about this situation was making any sense, but even after all the horrible accusations Lucian had flung my way, I was keenly aware that he was hurting inside. Someone had tried to kill him and set me up, and everything was a huge mess. But Nolan was his oldest friend, and if it came down to it, I didn’t know who he was going to believe.
I stood and pushed back my chair, and Ace looked at me. “You better let him figure this out on his own.”
“I can’t,” I said. “And you shouldn’t ask me to either. You of all people should know what it feels like to be accused of something you didn’t do.”
Ace’s jaw clenched as Birdie turned her head to examine him curiously. I probably shouldn’t have said it like that for everyone to hear, but my mind wasn’t in the right place. Everything was so surreal; it was hard to believe this was really happening.
“I just got him back,” I declared. “I can’t let him go again.”
Nobody protested this time when I walked down the hall and opened the door to the office.
Lucian looked up at me from his desk, his face drawn as he listened to the voice on the other end of the line. I knew it was Nolan. I knew I would probably have to defend myself again after this conversation, but if that was what it came down to, I would do it. Because regardless of how angry Lucian was or who tried to separate us, I loved him. I loved him, and I thought that all my chances to say it were gone. But he was here now, and he needed to know it. I needed to make him believe it.
I sat across from him while he ended the conversation with Nolan and hung up. He looked exhausted and thinner than he should have been, and fear clouded my mind as I wondered how long he had left. It wasn’t fair that I just got him back and all of this was happening. It wasn’t fair that I was already terrified of losing him again.
“Lucian,” I began. “Will you look at me?”
He hesitated, but when he looked up, I saw the hurt in his eyes. I saw the pain and confusion and the war raging in his mind. “I suppose you’re going to tell me that Nolan did this,” he said. “Is that it?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I don’t know why he would. He’s your friend.”
Lucian’s gaze moved to my belly, his thoughts drifting far away. “This baby,” he choked out. “You know I won’t let you take that from me. I want to make that clear now.”
I had two choices in which I could react to his statement. Anger or understanding. And in my heart, I knew that nobody would ever understand Lucian the way that I did.
“I would never want to take him from you.” I placed a hand over our son. “He needs you as much as I do.”
Lucian’s entire body was stone, and it was clear how torn he was. He’d been down this road before, betrayed in the worst possible way by someone he should have been able to trust. Even though I understood that, it didn’t mean his doubts didn’t hurt. I wasn’t naïve enough to believe this would be resolved overnight, but I had to tell him the truth. I had to say it in case it was the only chance I got.
I hoisted myself out of the chair and moved slowly around the desk, approaching him like a wild animal. Uncertain how close he would let me get, I stopped two feet away, our eyes locked together.
“You left so suddenly.” My voice cracked. “I never got to tell you how I really felt.”
“Gypsy—” He looked away, hiding his emotions over the words that might come.
“I loved you, Lucian.” Tears leaked down my cheeks as I said it. “I still do. And I didn’t plan on that. I didn’t plan on any of this, but I won’t take it back.”
He swallowed hard and tried to meet my eyes, but he couldn’t.
“Don’t let your past poison what we have,” I pleaded. “I know what I was, but I’m not that person anymore. And you aren’t the person who accuses innocent people of crimes they didn’t commit.”
The last words seemed to jar him out of whatever daze he was in as he blinked and shook his head. “We aren’t going to figure this out tonight. You should be resting.”
I took a tentative step closer, my fingers itching to touch his face. But I was scared of the rejection that might happen if I tried. Instead, I touched his hand with mine, just barely, but enough to feel his warmth again. He glanced down at the place where our skin met, and he seemed too paralyzed to move.
“Are you okay?” I asked. “Is your health… okay?”
He cleared his throat and shut his eyes again. “You should go to bed, Gypsy.”