“I know. And he’s been taking great care of me. It’s just that sometimes when he’s there, he’s not really present, you know? Like his mind is somewhere else. But he won’t tell me where.”
“Yeah. Tristan gets like that every now and then too.”
“He does?”
“Mm-hmm. I’ve tried to talk to him about it, but he’s quick to remind me that I didn’t know Joe like he did.” She shrugs.
“Well, I did. So what’s Sam’s excuse?” I close my eyes and say, “I lost Joe too.”
Molly reaches across the table and wraps her hand around mine. “I’m really sorry, Lucy.”
I press my trembling lips together. “Thanks.”
“I know it’s hard right now.” She squeezes my hand. “I can’t imagine what you’ve been going through. But I know one thing. You are tough as hell.” She leans in and says quietly, “Tougher than those two out there on the couch.” She winks and it makes me smile. “It’ll get better with time.”
“You think so?”
“I do. But in meantime, if you need to talk about it, I’m only a few floors away. I’m a pretty good listener,” she says, smiling lightly.
“So I’ve been told.”
She sits back in her chair and spins her laptop around to show me the screen. “You know, I think this is going to be a really good distraction for you.”
I inhale a hopeful breath. “I could sure use one.”
Chapter 14
Lucy, One Month Later
I sit on a wooden stool in front of my painting, staring at the brushstrokes that highlight my pink-rimmed eyes and matching pink nose. My blue tear-filled eyes reflect the sadness that’s been looming over me for the past two months.
My doctors told me that when a bone is broken, it heals stronger than before the break. But they didn’t make any promises about my heart. It’s been two months since the accident, and I can still feel the broken pieces, like the jagged, uneven sidewalks I grew up on. Most of the cracks are for Sam, who may never get over losing Joe, some are for me, and a few are for Tristan. But the one that hurts the most, the one I can’t seem to jump over no matter how hard I try, runs right down the middle of me and Sam.
“It’s perfection,” Sebastian says, standing behind me.
“It’s sad.”
“It’s beautiful.”
“It’s broken. Just like me and Sam.” I inhale a shaky breath and blink back tears that burn behind my eyes.
“You and Sam aren’t broken. You’re just a little cracked, that’s all.”
“Is there a difference?”
“Yes, there’s a difference,” he says, dropping his head beside mine. “Breaks don’t always go back together, but cracks usually heal.” He spins me around to face him. “What’s the matter? I thought you were feeling better since you were cleared to start working again. Aren’t you glad to be back out in the world?”
“Yes. And I was feeling better, until last night. Sam and I got into a fight.” I drop my head and pull my paint-covered hands to my face. “What if things never go back to the way they were, Bas? What if losing Joe was too much for him? Joe was the only constant thing in Sam’s life. He was there for him when I wasn’t.” I slide off the stool, and Bas grabs my hand as I stand up. “Sam made sure to remind me of that last night.”
“He’s just hurting. And he’s probably going to be hurting for a long time.” He turns me around to face my painting again and puts his hands on my shoulders. “Look. You are stronger than you were that day, Lucy. And you’re stronger now than you were two months ago when that asshole ran a red light. Now you have to be stronger than Sam.”
I turn around and look up at him. “I’m trying, but he keeps pushing me away.”
“Then push harder,” he says firmly. “Joe was there for him when you weren’t. Now it’s your turn to be there for him when Joe can’t.”
I nod softly.
He takes my hand. “Come on.” He pulls me over to the sink in the back of my studio. “I want to show you something. Wash up.”
I turn on the water and begin scrubbing the paint off my fingers.
When I’m through, Sebastian reaches for my hands and holds them up in front of him. “Really, Luc, you’ve got to stop using your fingernails as painting tools,” he says, appalled.
“They’re the best tool I’ve got.”
“Well you have a big day coming up and your nails are not up to the occasion. If it means no more painting until after Aurelia Snow, then so be it.”
He musters a small smile out of me and I pull my hand back. “It’s still six weeks away. And don’t worry, I think I used the last of my energy on that one.” I glance back at my self-portrait drying on the easel behind me and drop my hands to my paint-covered overalls. I pat my swollen tummy and walk over to the couch. “She’s officially sucking all my energy out of me.” I sit down, sprawl my arms and legs out, and drop my head back against the couch. “I don’t know why everyone says the second trimester is the easiest.”
“Because most women aren’t healing from a hip fracture in their second trimester. Or dealing with—”
“Sam?”
“I was going to say everything you’re dealing with, but if you want to narrow it down to Sam, I’ll support that.”
I laugh softly.
“Is that a smile I see?”
“A small one.” I purse my lips. “It’s hard to keep them from you.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“It was meant as one.” I inhale a deep breath and close my eyes. “Honestly, I spent the majority of the last two months on bed rest. How can I possibly be this tired?” I sit up and try to get comfortable, but there’s a small basketball in my lap that’s permanently affixed to my stomach.
“Maybe because you haven’t had a latte in six months.” He arches an eyebrow.
“Shh…don’t say the L word.”
“What about the C word?”
I raise a curious eyebrow.
“Coffee.” He makes a funny face and shakes his head. “What about the W word?” he asks, slouching against the arm of the couch. “It definitely can’t help matters that you have zero coping devices right now. One glass of wine and you’d probably feel a lot better.”
“You know what would make me feel better? A fiancé who doesn’t immerse himself in boxing to hide from the pain he won’t talk about.”
“Yes, well, we’ve established that.”
“It doesn’t help that he’s trying to prepare for a fight without Joe or Tristan. He’s never had to do that before.”
“I’m sure they’re not easily replaced.”
“No. He’s been really frustrated.”
“Why doesn’t he just wait until after the baby’s born? That would give Tristan time to fully heal and then he can coach Sam.”
“Because he’s still under contract. Miles already had it amended once, and that was only because it was deemed medically necessary by Sam’s doctor. The only thing he can do is withdraw, and he’ll never do that.” I roll my eyes. “Miles would never let him do that.”