LUKA (The Rhythm Series, Book 2) (17 page)

I sat on a bench for at least an hour, hoping clarity would somehow come to me, but all I felt was the sharp ache of loss, a silence and sadness, despite being surrounded by people.

When I couldn’t delay it any longer, I dragged myself to the restaurant Sarah had chosen for our ‘celebration’. It was full of hipsters along with a few guys in suits. I saw her waving from a table near the back, her facing glowing with happiness.

I forced a smile in return, desperate to feel a sliver of something positive. My friend was so damn happy. I loved her. I did.

“I guess it’s true,” I said, leaning down to kiss her cheek. “Pregnant women have a glow.”

Sarah laughed, her eyes sparkling with hope and joy.

“Yeah? Because I could have sworn that this morning my squinty eyes and snotty nose were scaring the shit out of you.”

“That is also true.”

She grinned and playfully elbowed me in the ribs.

I settled into the seat opposite her and picked up the menu, trying to ignore the pitch and roll of stomach acid.

There was a moment’s awkward silence before she spoke.

“So, tell me about the show,” she began.

I was about to answer, when a huge smile broke out across her face, and she leapt to her feet.

“Oh my God! You’re such a rat-bag! You told me you weren’t going to come!”

And she threw herself into Seth’s arms.

Where I wanted to be.

He hugged her tightly while I stood up, shoving my hands into my pockets to stop myself from reaching out for him. He gave me a bleak look as he hugged his sister, his expression resigned.

That was the moment when I knew it was really over between us.

“Of course I came,” he said, forcing a smile. “It’s not every day my little sister tells me I’m going to be an uncle.”

“Twerp,” she said, nudging him. “You’re only half-an-hour older than me.”

“Yeah, well, you’re really short as well.”

He sat down next to her and picked up the menu.

Sarah smiled, her affectionate gaze flipping between us.

“My two favorite people in all the world,” she sighed happily. “So, how well do you guys know each other, apart from having met at Becky’s party?”

I’d been about to take a sip from my water glass—I would have choked on it.

“We’ve hung out with friends a few times,” Seth said casually.

Stab.

“Isn’t that right, Luke?”

Another stab.

“It’s Lu
ka
,” said Sarah, poking her brother in the arm.

“Sorry, Lu
ka
,” he laughed.

I felt sick.

“You’ve pissed him off now,” Sarah accused her brother. “He
hates
being called ‘Luke’.”

Seth knew that. And he’d never called me ‘Luke’ before. He was making a point—we were just casual, barely friends. He didn’t know me well enough to get my name right.

My stomach lurched.

I couldn’t sit there and listen to anymore.

“Excuse me,” I said, standing and heading for the men’s room.

I pulled open the door and threw up the coffee and croissant that I’d had for breakfast in Seth’s kitchen.

Christ, was that just today? It seemed a lifetime ago.

My throat burned from the acid and my head throbbed.

I stood in front of the tiny sink.
What have I done to deserve this?

Everything.

Nothing.

I splashed some cold water on my face and over my wrists, trying to cool my overheated blood. Then I rinsed my mouth out, spitting repeatedly until the foul taste had gone and the water made my teeth ache. I felt sick and shaky, brimming with anger and misery.

Then the door opened and Seth walked in.

I wanted to punch him.

I wanted to kiss him.

We stared at each other in the mirror as he tightened his jaw.

“Sarah was worried.”
Silence.
“She cares about you.”

“And you don’t.”

“Don’t make this any harder than it needs to be.”

“Hard?! Fuck you!”

He cringed and looked down, avoiding the desperation in my gaze.

I turned, grabbing his face, kissing him franticly, feeling the softness of his lips under mine. For a moment, he kissed me back, despair in every stroke of his tongue.

Then he pulled away, leaving my hands empty.

“I can’t do this! She’s my sister,” he whispered, his voice taut. “I’d do anything for her.”

“What about me?” I said fiercely. “Don’t I get any say in this?”

Seth’s face crumpled, but then he took a deep breath.

“She needs you, Luka.” And he stared right at me. “I don’t.”

I wished that he’d hit me or yelled at me, because that would hurt less than this coldness. If he’d stuck his hand into my chest and yanked out my still beating heart, the pain couldn’t have been worse.

He left the bathroom, the door closing softly behind him.

I stared in the mirror, my eyes reflecting pain, and I let my forehead thud against the cold glass, willing myself to get it together, to be the man I had to be.

I counted to sixty then walked back into the restaurant.

Sarah was sitting with Seth’s arm around her shoulders, smiling at something he’d said. But when she saw me, her smile slipped.

“Bloody hell, you look awful! Seth said you were okay,” and she glared at him accusingly.

I caught his eye, seeing the guilt in his expression.

“Stomach bug,” I lied. “I’ll be fine.”

Sarah looked as if she was about to argue, when the server arrived at our table.

“How are we today?”

“We’re pregnant,” Sarah announced, unable to contain her news, shining with happiness.

The server laughed. “I don’t get that answer every day! Congratulations,” she said kindly. “You’ll want to avoid some of the seafood and soft cheeses then.”

Sarah’s face fell. “I do?”

The server blinked and looked shocked. “Well, it’s advisable.”

I could see Sarah welling up again, vulnerability and fear in her eyes. I patted her shoulder as I slid into my seat.

“You like pasta, don’t you?”

Sarah wiped her eyes and tried to smile.

The server looked confused, her eyes flicking between me and Seth.

“Oh, he’s my brother,” Sarah laughed. “Luka’s my . . . he’s the father.”

I forced my lips into a smile, my face moving unnaturally, as if it had been glued in place.

“Or you could have the grilled lamb?” I said desperately. “You’d like that.”

That lunch remains in my memory as one of the most painful experiences of my entire life. I loved them both. I loved them differently. And I had to choose: to tell Sarah the truth and fight for Seth, or . . .

Or maybe the choice had been made for me.

When I went to the theater that night, the relief in my body was intense. Moving, dancing, it freed me from the chaos of my thoughts. Instead of thinking, I could feel. Instead of being fucking terrified, I could soar across the stage. And instead of feeling disgusting and pathetic, I could hear the appreciation of the audience.

I was a fake, a liar.

But I was also a dancer. A fuck-hot dancer.

Performing was my sanctuary, my safety-net, the illusion of a world that still believed in magic.

But when the costume was gone and I’d wiped off the makeup, I was just me. I hated that.

Having nowhere else to go, I went back to Sarah’s apartment, wondering what I’d find and which Sarah I’d be facing: my friend, or the mother of my child.

I walked along the street slowly, second-guessing myself with every footstep. When I arrived, the porch light was shining, but the apartment was in darkness.

She left the light for me.

That small gesture was reassuring.

I slipped into the darkened living room, moving as quietly as possible. I saw a pile of blankets and pillows on the couch, and breathed a sigh of relief. At least she seemed to realize that having sex wasn’t going to solve our problems.

And I’m ashamed to admit that my dick stirred at the thought of sex with Sarah. As if I needed a reason to loathe myself even more.

I stripped off everything except my boxer briefs, and was about to settle into the couch when I heard crying.

Her sobs tore at my battered heart—soft, heartfelt cries, not meant to be heard or shared. That was what drove me forward. My friend was alone and hurting.

I knocked on her door tentatively.

“Sarah?”

“I’m fine,” she said softly, her voice ragged.

I hesitated for a moment, then pushed the door open.

She was lying curled up under the duvet, her slim shoulders shaking.

“You’re not fine,
buča
.”

I sat on the edge of the bed and gently pulled her into my arms. She resisted for the smallest second, then wrapped herself around my body, crying and crying and crying.

I stroked her hair, so many questions bubbling under my skin, questions I was afraid to ask. Or to hear answered.

“I’m scared,” she said at last when her crying had eased. “I never wanted to be a single mother. I always imagined that I’d be married to a man I loved, too. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Luka.”

Her words felt like they were killing me, flaying me slowly.

I wished I could give her that, but it would be a lie.

Wouldn’t it?

I had no words, so I lay down on the bed, Sarah’s head resting on my chest, and I held her all night. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

We slept together that first night, holding each other, tumbled together like puppies, giving each other comfort. And for a few hours, no guilt and no expectations.

I woke up instantly aware that I wasn’t with Seth. The scent of the sheets wasn’t spicy, but something floral.

Sarah shifted against me and I carefully moved my straining dick from her warm backside.

She rolled over and looked at me in surprise.

“I think I’m still asleep, dreaming about having an insanely hot man in my bed.”

“Not hating it,” I said, returning her playful smile.

The light in her eyes dimmed.

“Thank you. For staying. I’m sorry for what I said. I wasn’t trying to pressure you, I promise. It’s just . . . scary.”

I held her hand, looking at her seriously.

“For me, too. I have no idea how to do this. How
we
will do this.”

She bit her lip, her beautiful eyes troubled.

“Do you love me even a little bit, Luka?”

God, she dared to ask. So strong.

“You know I do.”

“But you’re not
in love
with me. Are you?”

I hesitated, and she looked away.

“Don’t answer that. I already know the answer. But maybe . . . maybe you could be. Will you give
us
a chance, Luka? That’s all I’m asking for. A chance.”

“There’s something I have to tell you,” I said, capturing her hands and holding them against my chest. “And then you might change your mind about . . . everything.”

“Okaaay.”

“I was seeing someone, while you were in Australia.”

“But you said you didn’t have a girlfriend?”

“I didn’t,” I answered gently, giving her time to let my answer sink in.

“But . . . oh! You were seeing a guy? You had a boyfriend?”

She looked shocked and tugged her hands free.

“You know this about me, Sarah. I’ve never hidden it from you.”

“But I thought . . . I don’t know what I thought. Wow. Are you still seeing him?”

I looked away, watching the late morning sun filter through her thin curtains.

“No. I’m not seeing him anymore.”

“Well, that’s . . . was it serious?”

“For me? Yes.”

She chewed her lip, eyebrows drawn together as her brain spooled through the questions she wanted to ask me.

“Why did you break up?”

“He knows about you . . . about the pregnancy.”

“Oh! So you . . . ended it yesterday?”

I winced, but answered honestly. “No, he did.”

She looked down, studying her short fingernails.

“I see. Is that how you know Seth?”

I think I stopped breathing.

“Yes,” I whispered.

She nodded. “This guy is one of his friends.”

She’d misunderstood
.

“The thing is . . .”

She crawled out of the bed, holding her hands over her ears.

“Please don’t tell me anymore. I don’t want to hear
anything
about some
guy
that you’ve been fucking!”

“Sarah . . .”

“No! I mean it, Luka! I can’t take it right now. Please, just . . . just stop!”

I could see tears hovering in her eyes again.

“Okay,” I said quietly.

She nodded jerkily and headed for the bathroom.

Maybe it was better this way. I didn’t want to come between Sarah and Seth.

You already have, you prick.

That was the ugly truth. I wondered if it really was possible to bury it deep enough to last a lifetime.