‘My husband...?’
‘I’ll head up the road to look for him.’ Lukas didn’t hesitate. ‘Let him know what’s happened.’
And as he left Oti was almost grateful for the space. It was a chance to decompress. This time, she was in no doubt that Lukas would have questions but, far from dreading them as she might have a week ago, she thought she might actually welcome them.
It would be a chance to let Lukas see the real her and maybe erase some of the less than flattering opinion he had of her as some dumb socialite.
And even though she knew it should worry her that his opinion of her mattered so much, Oti couldn’t seem to escape the notion.
She was still fighting her own thoughts when Lukas returned with the rather frantic-looking husband and the couple’s relatively nonplussed son in tow. Keeping their distance, the two of them tried to give the family space as they all waited for the ambulance.
‘You should have told me,’ Lukas bit out eventually.
Oti paused in the process of shoving the bloodied paper towels into the bin-liner, though she deliberately didn’t look at him. She didn’t need to ask what he was talking about.
‘Would you have believed me?’ she asked quietly.
‘I’d have had it looked into.’
The saddest part, Oti thought, was that he actually thought she would find that reassuring.
‘So you wouldn’t have believed me,’ she pointed out. ‘You wouldn’t have taken my word for it.’
He actually hesitated. The man renowned for never missing a beat. It felt like a small victory, even as she chastened herself for caring about that.
‘Why would you let people paint you as some vacuous, party-hard It-girl who’s permanently living it up on some extended tropical holiday? Or that you’re in rehab yet again?’
She tilted her head up to him. ‘What difference does it make?’
‘What difference?’ he echoed, appalled. ‘Look at what you just did. That was...incredible.’
He shook his head as though he couldn’t actually find the words and, even though Oti tried to pretend his words didn’t affect her, there was no denying that ball of pride which swelled inside her, just hearing the admiration in his tone.
Lukas Woods thought she was incredible.
‘What could you possibly gain by not telling anyone the truth?’ he demanded angrily.
Oti didn’t know how, but she managed a shrug.
‘The truth gets distorted by what people want to see.’
‘All the more reason to tell them.’
‘They wouldn’t have wanted to hear it,’ she countered evenly.
‘Then you make them.’
‘Why? What does their opinion matter to me?’ She even let a laugh escape her, a genuine one. Because her next observation, at least, was true. ‘You certainly don’t let yourself get affected by what other people think.’
‘They don’t think I’m a party girl.’
‘But I know I’m not. And besides, they think you’re a ruthless playboy. But you aren’t really, are you?’
He didn’t answer, but the glare that he shot at her might have skewered a lesser woman. Right now, though, she felt anything but lesser.
‘You really don’t care what people think, do you?’ His eyes seemed to root her to the spot.
She couldn’t move. She wasn’t even sure she could breathe.