Luke sucks in a rallying breath. “Go back in there and tell her. Grow some fuckin’ balls and tell her.”
Sal needs answers. And Luke’s the one keeping them from her. Not anymore.
Not after tonight.
When Luke exits the bathroom, his heart stops. The sight of Sal’s naked body lying facedown on the floor has him frozen.
“Sal!”
His shout’s a cannon, and Luke moves. Racing across the room, he falls to his knees beside her. With trembling hands, he rolls her over onto her back. Her head lolls across the carpet, her eyes closed, her face expressionless.
Frantically, Luke feels for a pulse. He exhales a shaky breath.
Thank Christ. It’s there. Steady and true.
He grabs a blanket from the bed, draping it around her.
Luke slips his wife’s limp body into his arms and lifts her, cradling her tight against his chest. As he carries her to the bed, he fights the familiar panic threatening to have him hauling ass to the hospital.
The moan that comes from Sal’s lips is soft, pained. He glances down at the woman in his arms. She’s stirring, her eyes fluttering behind closed lids, fighting to open.
Gently, Luke places her on the bed. After covering her shivering body with blankets, he disappears into the bathroom to get her medication and a glass of water. When he returns to the bedroom, Sal’s awake. Though she looks drowsy, she’s alert and watching him.
He sits beside her on the edge of the bed. Reaching out, he smooths a lock of hair from her brow. “I think we oughta take a trip to the doctor, Sal.”
“Please, no. No doctors.” Her lips thin out into a humorless smile. “I didn’t eat all day. That champagne went straight to my head.”
“And a migraine?”
She nods, looking abashed. Staring down at her hands, she traces a finger over her tattoo.
Luke swears low under his breath. Primal anger has him cursing himself for not taking better care of her. For failing to notice how drained she was. How much stress she’s been under. Fuck. To think he was planning to tell her about everything. He’s a goddamn idiot. It’s only been four weeks. She’s still recovering.
And if she didn’t want to tell Luke about the migraine, then she was probably worried about burdening him. That’s Sal, always wanting to protect others even at the cost of herself.
He scans her pale face. “You should’ve told me you weren’t feelin’ well.”
As close to an admonishment as he can get with her looking at him like that. He takes Sal’s small hand in his, feeling it tighten around him.
“I didn’t want to worry you,” she says, her voice slurred from the migraine.
“You didn’t want—”
Luke lets out a shaky breath. Equal amounts of frustration and pride fill him at his stubborn-as-hell wife. “You scared me, Sal. Do you understand me?” He runs his thumb across her knuckles. “Walkin’ out of the bathroom and seein’ you on the ground—it scared the shit out of me.”
“I’m sorry,” she says, her pretty face frustrated and pained. Her voice so downcast it carves up Luke’s heart. She bites her lip and stares at him with sad eyes. “I just wanted to enjoy tonight. I wanted to enjoy you.”
He leans in to kiss her forehead. “I know.” Gently, he strokes the curve of her pale cheek. “Let’s get you better. That’s what’s important.”
Sal nods. Although she still doesn’t look too happy with herself.
After swallowing her medication, Sal snuggles down into a pillow. Her green eyes track him as he changes into a pair of boxers. “Will you hold me?”
“Darlin’, you ain’t gotta ask me twice.”
Sal scoots over to make room for him and Luke slips in beside her. He takes her in his arms. Braces her against his chest, holding her so close it’s as if they’re one body.
Minutes later, Sal’s asleep. Her breathing even and steady.
Luke keeps his hand clasped over her heart.
His happiness, his life, it’s all here, wrapped safe and warm in his arms.