“Lia…” Lucian sounds confused as he calls my name. I hear a click and then the light of the lamp creates a yellow glow in the room; we must have both fallen asleep on the couch.
“I’m here,” I say as I struggle to my feet. I approach him warily, ensuring he is indeed awake now. I rub the knot forming on the back on my head as I reach him. “Are you okay?”
Looking bewildered, he asks, “What happened? Why were you on the floor?”
I sit next to him, rubbing my hand on his back. “You had a bad dream.”
Turning to me he says, “Did I scare you? Is that why you were on the floor?”
“Um…no. I…fell off when you sat up.” His eyes zero in on my other hand, still rubbing the place that made contact with the table. He reaches out to feel the area I’m touching and bites off a curse as he feels the bump.
“Fuck. Shit, baby, I’m sorry. I hurt you. I’m so sorry. Shit.”
“Luc, it’s fine. Really, it’s not a big deal.” He ignores what I’m saying, insisting on dragging me into the bathroom to look at the bump. He lets loose with another string of curses before sitting me gently on the side of his bed. He runs into the kitchen and returns with an ice pack. After a few moments, I remove the pack, handing it back to him. “I think that’s good. Let’s go back to bed.” I yawn on cue and he gives me a soft smile, setting the ice down and tucking me into bed. When he leaves the room, I assume he’s just going to throw the ice away. When he doesn’t return, I realize he’s not coming back. I get out of bed and walk quietly toward the living room. The lamp is still on, and I see Lucian’s sleeping figure once again on the couch. On the table beside him is an empty glass with a bottle of scotch next to it. I ponder joining him, but I realize he is afraid to sleep with me again. Finding out he had indirectly hurt me tonight has shaken him. I back away; I loathe leaving him, but I’m giving him what he needs right now…space to breathe.
Chapter Twelve
Lia
There has been little time to think in the last week with both Lucian and I battling the flu. When he and Sam dropped me at home this morning, it had suddenly hit me; my court date is coming up, and I had completely forgotten it. The happy bubble I have been existing in is effectively pierced.
It’s obvious this morning that Lucian was still troubled by what had happened during the night. He checked the bump on my head again, and I assured him it didn’t hurt. I wanted to ask him about the dream, but I didn’t know how. The sound of him choking was bad enough, but his words last night had been even worse. He sounded so scared, so horrified; I knew these weren’t just random dreams. How long had this been going on? I can’t imagine waking up like that every night. I have had nightmares about my stepfather on and off, but nothing of that magnitude. He had given me a brief kiss and told me he would call when I stepped from the car earlier. I wanted to act like a teenager and demand to know when, but I just smiled instead and waved at him through the glass as the car pulled away. I felt a childish urge to cry and had no idea why.
It has been eight days since I’ve seen Lucian. He texted me a couple times to ask how I am doing, saying he has some things going on at work that are keeping him busy. Regardless of what he says, I know this is about the nightmare and his need to pull away from me because of it. I go about my life, and I continue to show up at his apartment on my usual schedule, but he is never there. Only the dirty clothes and unmade bed show me he is indeed coming home at some point. I try not to let it show, but the loss of his presence in my life is taking a toll on me. I miss him so damn much. I alternate between wanting to send him a nasty text and begging to see him again. Not stalking his office is one of the hardest things I’d ever done.
Rose has tried to question me about it, but she finally backed off when I snapped her head off one time too many. I also have my court appearance coming up at the end of the week, and I am a bundle of nerves at the thought of seeing my stepfather and my mother. I feel lonely and depressed as I walk down the hallway to Lucian’s apartment. As I open the door and step over the threshold, I freeze. Even with no visual proof, I know he’s here. The smell of coffee is heavy in the air and as I stand quietly, the sound of someone moving around in the kitchen can be heard.
I set my keys and purse on the entryway table and walk slowly in the direction of the sound. Lucian is standing at the island with his back to me. He’s dressed casually in jeans and a polo shirt. His hair is damp, indicating a recent shower. I stand drinking him in, my eyes roaming over him hungrily. God, I have missed him so much. I see the moment he becomes aware of my presence; his body straightens, and his breath seems to catch. When he spins around, we both just look at each other. Finally, he gives me a lopsided grin, saying, “Hey, baby, I didn’t hear you come in.”