Her mind is already three steps ahead of mine. “Leave it with me.” I can practically hear her mind ticking over as she speaks.
I’m about to beg her not to pursue this when someone bangs on my front door. “I’ve gotta go. There’s someone knocking on my door.”
“All good. You go,” she says, dismissing me, and I know I have no chance of changing her mind.
We say goodbye and finish the call as I drag myself off the couch so I can answer the door. I’m almost relieved someone is here because they saved me from Avery, but I’ve no idea who would be visiting me at this time of night.
Whoever it is bangs harder on the door. So impatient.
“I’m coming!” I yell out, and the banging stops.
I yank the door open, ready to give them a piece of my mind but freeze when I see who it is.
Luke.
His dishevelled appearance is in stark contrast to the cool, controlled Luke I know. He stares at me through anguished eyes, and all the hurt and confusion that has been churning in me over the past couple of days dissipates. The man standing in front of me looks broken, and all I want to do is pull him close and wrap my arms around him.
“Hi,” I greet him a little awkwardly while my mind goes to war over hugging him.
He doesn’t reply, but rather simply stands there, staring at me as if the weight of the world is on his shoulders.
And then—“I’m married.” His voice cracks on the two words a woman never wants to hear, and where I should be pissed off at his confession, I know deep in my gut that there’s more to this.
I’m not sure what to say, so I say nothing.
“Her name is Jolene…” He stumbles over her name as if it’s the last word he wants to escape from his lips. I sense his distaste and instantly dislike Jolene while wondering what she did to him to make him feel this way.
The silence swirls around us and the winter chill of the July night cuts through to my bones. Or maybe it’s the thought that a married man kissed me two nights ago, and all I can think about is kissing him again. And even though it’s wrong and I’ve always sworn I’d never get involved with a married man, it feels so damn right, and that scares the hell out of me.
I remain silent, waiting for him to say the words that could make this all right.
We’re separated.
That would work.
“We’ve been married for five years,” he says, and I hear the same emptiness in his words that I can see in his eyes. “Fuck!” He shoves his fingers through his hair as he snaps, and I sense the fury punching through his body. I’m guessing those five years haven’t been the happiest five years for him.
“So you’re still together?” I hold my breath waiting for his reply.
“No. Yes… No, not really. Shit, Callie, it’s so fucking complicated.”
My patience is wearing thin. I don’t understand what he’s trying to tell me. A person is either married, or they’re not. My frustration turns me a little snarky. “I’m sure that’s the line every married man uses, Luke.”
He takes a step as if to enter my apartment and when I don’t move to let him through, he pauses and asks, “Can I come in so I can try to explain this fucked-up situation to you?”
“So long as your explanation involves more than ‘it’s complicated’.”
His lips pinch together. “It will.”
I step aside and usher him in.
A moment later, he blows my mind with his revelation.
“Two years ago, my wife was sent to jail for murder. More specifically for the murder of her own mother. I did everything to fight the charges. Hired her the best lawyer money could buy, had a private investigator look into it. No stone was left unturned, and yet, she was found guilty. I’ve spent the last two years trying to fight the conviction. It’s been hell, but I’ve clung to her innocence. Everything I’ve done has been geared towards proving that.” He stops talking and begins pacing while holding the back of his neck.
I’m stunned into silence. Never in a million years did I expect that.
He stops moving and turns to me. His nostrils flare, and his eyes fill with anger. “But she’s not fucking innocent,” he says, stunning me even further.