Reality ripped his world apart, holding him hostage in his home. Those people watched him, followed him, and knew his every move. Luke shot out texts to his family, Charlie, close friends, and his secretary, informing them of his bout with the flu and requesting they stay away for a few days. Then he polluted his body with an insane amount of alcohol over the next several days.
Jessica was alive.
He needed to save her. He needed to tell someone. He needed to know why she would leave him if no one was holding her against her will.
If he went to the cops, his family would be in danger. The only person who could help him was Jessica. Luke believed with every cell in his heart that she did not commit suicide. That’s how he knew she’d been murdered and the suicide was just a cover-up. But in the past year … not once did he imagine she was still alive. That realization knocked him on his ass. She might as well have committed suicide. Either way, she made the conscious choice to leave him forever.
Teetering on the edge of dehydration and death, he crawled into the hot shower, followed by a tall glass of water and two Advil. Then he tore into his closet. Luke ignored his own insanity that had led to all of Jessica’s belongings remaining untouched nearly a year later. Coat pockets, purses, shoes, boxes marked “childhood,” he plowed through it all over the following four hours.
Nothing.
“Fuck!” he roared, fisting his hair and falling to his knees in the middle of the ransacked closet.
There wasn’t a single clue, not one dear-Luke-if-I-fake-my-death-come-find-me-here note. He knew her better than she knew herself, and yet … in that moment, he didn’t know her at all.
“Luke?”
He jerked his head up.
“Luke?”
In one swift move he jumped to his feet and combed his fingers through his hair.
“Coming,” he called, emerging from the closet.
“What the hell is going on with you? My God, you’ve lost weight.”
Luke drew in a breath of courage to explain—lie—about his whereabouts and his condition. His sister, Lake, stood inside the door with her hands fisted on her hips. She’d mastered the tough role, even with her prosthetic leg that still tripped her up a bit.
Hell seemed to be the only fitting word to describe the previous year. Lake survived a car accident then flirted with death, locked in a coma for three months before waking to find her leg amputated below the knee. As if that wasn’t enough to take in, they had to share the news of her boyfriend not surviving the crash and Jessica’s death three weeks after the car accident.
Luke held it together for his family. The only time someone wasn’t by Lake’s side during those three months was the day of Jessica’s and her family’s funeral. How could Jessica do that to him? How could she leave him when he needed her the most?
Luke hugged his sister. She didn’t return his affection.
“I’ve been under the weather.”
“I see that. You look like shit. But that doesn’t explain why you stood Charlie up in Houston. She flew out there just to be with you. She rescheduled patients and a speaking engagement because you led her to believe that you were ready to commit.”
“Tea? Coffee?” Luke walked toward the kitchen.
“Neither. Don’t blow me off, too.” Lake followed him like a nagging dog.
An empty refrigerator stared back at him. No Heineken. He’d finished it all off. Fetching the wine opener from the drawer, he grabbed a bottle of Pinot Noir from the rack.
“You’re drinking wine?”
“Yep.”
“It’s not even noon, and you stopped drinking wine after …”
With his back to her, he paused, closing his eyes for a brief moment. “I know. After Jessica died.”
Lake sighed. “Please tell me this is progress and not some sort of backslide.”
He chuckled, uncorking the bottle. It was progress for sure. He’d gone from shock to devastation, finally settling into a sinking hole of anger and denial. At one point he told his best friend, Gabe, that he’d rather slit his wrists than ever taste wine again—ever taste Jessica again. Then he met Charlie, Lake’s physical therapist.
The accident happened in San Francisco. Lake wanted to stay after she awoke from her coma instead of going back home to recover. She claimed it made her feel closer to her boyfriend. Luke knew it was because she wanted to be closer to her grieving brother.
Their parents rented a place near the hospital that was handicapped accessible. Tom and Felicity took turns staying with her while the others kept their bed and breakfast going in Tahoe. Once Lake received her prosthetic leg, Luke watched after her, taking her to her physical therapy appointments so their parents could have a break and much needed time together.
“I’ll talk with Charlie. It really is disturbing that you’re closer to her than I am. That’s a big part of my ‘commitment’ issues. If it doesn’t work out, I’ll be letting you down too.”