“Oh God.” A sound like a dying gasp escapes Sal’s lips. She’s crying now, in earnest. Hot, angry tears. “It’s so sad. It’s not fair. I can’t even remember my son’s body in my own.”
Her hands, pressed against her flat stomach, rip something apart in Luke.
Luke moves toward her and gathers Sal in his arms. She resists briefly, then collapses against his chest.
Fighting back tears, Luke says, “It’s why we went to Pensacola. I couldn’t face it. The grief. I was a goddamn coward and I tried to take it away from you instead of letting you deal with it. If I had just let you cope instead of trying to fix everything, you wouldn’t have been in the accident, lost your memory.”
Her small frame wracks against him. Luke can feel her hot tears soaking the front of his shirt. Finally, Sal pulls back to look at him. Her eyes blaze. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Her voice holds a slice of trembling anger. If she asked to slap the living shit out of him, he’d let her.
“I would have wanted to know. Especially since everyone else knew but me.”
Luke takes a minute to steady his breathing, to find his voice. “I never wanted to keep the truth from you. I was waitin’ for the right time to tell you, but then it never was the right time. All I could think about was keeping you safe. Making sure you were okay. Because if anything had happened to you, I couldn’t live with myself.”
Her lips tremble. She shakes her head, frustration and pain etched across her face. “We lost a baby—you went through that alone. You shouldn’t have hidden that from me. It was our memory to share. No matter how bad.”
“You’re right. You are.” He meets her gaze. “I’m sorry, Sal. And I’m so goddamned sorry I wasn’t there today when you remembered.”
Panic tears into him when Sal leans away, breaking their connection.
She drifts across the workshop. Her eyes downcast, she stares at the tattoo on her palm.
Luke takes a step toward her. “Sal, there ain’t no one in this world more important to me than you. I love you so damn much.”
She’s quiet for so long Luke wonders if she’s even heard him.
When she finally looks at him, Luke’s heart drops into his boots. Her steady voice, filled with courage, says, “I love you, too, Luke.”
He doesn’t wait. He moves toward her, needing her in his arms, her heartbeat against his.
This time, Sal doesn’t push him away. Instead, she lets him enfold her into his embrace. He buries his face in her hair and inhales gratefully. It’s all Luke can do to keep it together as his arms are blessed by the body of his wife.
Christ, he doesn’t deserve her. She’s given him grace, forgiveness. That’s Sal. That’s his wife. She died, and she still came back better than ever.
Sal slides her small hands up his chest. Luke nearly falls over at the way she’s looking at him. Her eyes shine with tears, with love. Even now. Even after everything he’s kept from her.
Then Sal tilts her head. “Is there anything else I should know?”
Luke stares down at her, numb. Sickened by his cowardice, his grief and his lies. But goddamn, how to tell her about Alabama? She barely believed him the first time—why would this time be any different?
That fear, losing Sal again, has him frozen. That fear gives him the will to lie.
Again.
“No, darlin’. Nothin’.”
Sal lets out a little sigh and curls into his chest.
Luke grips her tight and closes his eyes.
It was his chance to tell her everything.
His one chance and he blew it.