Chapters (57)
- Prologue
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Chapter 41
- Chapter 42
- Chapter 43
- Chapter 44
- Chapter 45
- Chapter 46
- Chapter 47
- Chapter 48
- Chapter 49
- Chapter 50
- Chapter 51
- Chapter 52
- Chapter 53
- Chapter 54
- Epilogue
- Acknowledgments
“I’m fine. Really. Just a little… I’m fine. I promise. And I love the painting. In fact, I’m going to hang it up on my mantle right after you leave.”
Chapter 32
ADRIENNE
Before
As I lie in Luke’s arms, I can’t stop thinking about the prescription I wrote for EJ.
I thought spending the evening with Luke would take my mind off of it. And it did for a little while. Luke is good at getting me to laugh, even when I’m in a terrible mood. But tonight is a lost cause. EJ claimed it would be the only prescription he would ask from me, but he was lying. I knew it without even seeing the twitching under his right eye.
He will keep asking for more and more. Pushing me harder and harder.
I have to stop him.
Luke squeezes my shoulders, pulling me closer to his warm body. I try to banish thoughts of EJ from my head and enjoy lying next to Luke. I cleared out a drawer for him a few days ago, and as he filled it with his clothing, the thought occurred to me that it might not be so bad if he were living with me. It would be nice to have him around all the time.
Not now. But maybe someday.
“That portrait of you is so great,” he comments. “It looks just like you.”
It was funny the way Luke’s mouth dropped open when he saw the almost comically large portrait of me that I hung over the mantle. I hung it there partially to make him laugh. But I also did it for my patient. Her traumatic experience formed the crux of my newest book. She’s made a lot of progress with me, and I suspect we will conclude our sessions soon.
“You don’t think it’s too gigantic?” I ask.
“No way!” He squeezes me again. “It’s larger than life. Like you.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
“I love it.” His lips press against my forehead as he holds me close to his body. “And also, I love… you.”
There it is. The three words we’ve both been skirting around for the last several weeks. He finally cracked and said it like I knew he would. I’ve heard those words said to me several times before, but this time I do something completely unexpected and inappropriate and unlike me.
I burst into tears.
Luke is shaken by my reaction. He pulls away from me, struggling to sit up in my king-sized bed. “Hey,” he says. “Hey. Don’t cry.”
“I’m not crying,” I say pointlessly, as I swipe a hand over my leaky eyes. “I’m fine.”