Page 77 of After We Fall

Shifting my focus back to Luke, I swallow and whisper, with vulnerability laced in my voice, “Are you really staying in Colorado Springs, or are you going to leave?”

His eyes flash, and his answer is immediate. Steady. “Staying.”

“Why?”

“Because no one took care of you at age fourteen when you got your first concussion, and that has to be righted.”

The declaration shoots an arrow into my heart, only instead of injuring the muscle, it spreads something warm, gooey, and soothing. I shake my head, squelching the arrow and setting it afire with my indignance. “But it’s not your job to right anything, Luke.”

“And because you spend all your time taking care of everyone else, but by my count do very little for yourself.”

Another arrow. Another blaze to snuff it out. “You don’t know me well enough to make that kind of statement.”

“And because you’re mine.”

This time the arrow hits, but in my confusion I can only blink. “What are you talking about?”

“I saw those people—your adoptive family—trying to claim you yesterday, and I thought I was going to crawl out of my skin.” He rubs the back of his neck.

“Yesterday? You decided that I was yours yesterday?” Sparse time for him to know if he’s committed to staying in Colorado.

“No. I didn’t decide this yesterday. You became mine the second you called me from the hospital and whispered in my ear that you needed me.”

“You can’t base a relationship on a traumatic situation.”

He stares off to the side. “No,” he says, as if to himself. “It was before that.”

“How convenient for you to have figured this out now.”

He shoots his attention back to me. “You calling me a liar?”

“No. I think you’re misled. And I think you’ll spend a week in town, become bored, and catch the first flight out of Colorado that you can.”

“I don’t think you know me as well as you think you do. I look forward to proving you wrong.”

“I know the man who asked me to dance three years ago, then disappeared without an explanation. And I know the man who walked out of my hospital room a few days ago. Again, without an explanation.”

His face softens. “Baby,” he whispers, “you practically kicked me out of your room.”

I did. I did everything in words, tone, and actions except call hospital security to kick him out of my room.

He studies me as if I’m answering him without words. “You wanted me to stay,” he finally says. “You wanted me to stay, but I left, and now you’re angry.”

A battle wars internally with my past between the wounds that want to send him away again and the man who created a binder for me with extensive research about my care plan. I hug my purse close to my chest, squeezing out the memory of his thoughtfulness and fortifying my resolve. But all I can muster is, “I think you should take me home and then leave town. It might be best.”

He cocks his head, staring at me. Then he nods, takes my uninjured hand in his, and pulls me to standing. But he doesn’t let go. Instead, his eyes sear into mine, and his grip tightens. “Be mad at me all you want. Your anger doesn’t scare me. You have a lot of it, and it doesn’t all have to do with me. But if you need someone to hate, I will be the safe person for you to hate.”

People walk around us, the elevator doors ding open, but all I can do is stare at Luke.

“I’m not going anywhere. Throw anything you want to at me.” He takes a step forward, closing the space between us and rubbing his thumb over the top of my hand. “Then, Penelope, when you’re finished, I intend to be the safe person for you to love.”

19

My life has turned into a bad game of Mad Libs. All the wrong word choices are in all the wrong blanks.

At the foothills of the Rocky Mountains sits Twelve Bluebells Ranch operated by _______ (person). Everyone pitches in to help ________ (name) recover from _______ (situation).

The cogwheel of my relationship with Meredith used to run on what I was able to do for her. But post–head injury, the wheel turns on what she can do for me. It’s disconcerting, uncomfortable, and makes me want to scream. Or at the very least, throw one of my tennis shoes at her when she does something in service for me. This is to say nothing of how the girls continue to dote on me or how Luke pops in with unnerving displays of thoughtfulness.