He has been so distracted and restless. I think we both desperately need to return to some semblance of our former routine, but I don’t know how. Thus far, I’ve avoided leaving the apartment. The few times Lucian has mentioned it, I’ve felt myself shutting down. I’ve begun to feel terribly guilty, though, over the last few days. I’ve watched him seeming to struggle with something, and I have to believe it’s my situation and his inability to make things better overnight. Lucian is a man of action and unfortunately for both of us, there doesn’t seem to be a miracle cure for me mentally. Physically, my body is healing, and each day I see the evidence of my attack lessen. Well, at least it had been until my freak-out in the shower moments ago.

Rose had asked me earlier when I planned to register for my last quarter of school. I need to check on the test scores of my final exams and meet with my financial counselor. Now, though, I can’t stand the thoughts of going back on campus at least until my stepfather is behind bars. Lucian seems to think that is imminent, but I don’t have his confidence. Of course, I never would have imagined my mother turning herself in, either. Lucian didn’t seem surprised at all, which is even more puzzling. Apparently, he has more faith in humankind than I do. When I feel my hand being shaken, I look up, realizing I’ve completely zoned out while he applied my new bandages. “Sorry, baby,” I murmur absently, noting as I always do his pleasure when I use that word. Although Lucian addresses me in that manner often, I feel shy about doing the same. Maybe some part of me has never been able to believe I’m entitled to use words such as those with a man like Lucian Quinn.

“No worries,” he assures me as he sits back to study my face. “Better now?”

I nod shyly, feeling the urge to drag the covers up over my head. I can’t help but think that he’s wondering when the woman from a few weeks prior will return. I only hope for my sake, as well as his, that it won’t be long. With that in mind, I find myself saying something I wish instantly that I could take back. “Would you…like to walk to Leo’s for dinner?” I feel even worse when Lucian lights up like a kid at Christmas. I may have underestimated how difficult it’s been for him to stay cooped up in the apartment. I want to panic as the words are hanging between us, but the look of relief on his face keeps me silent. If he needs this, I’ll do it no matter how hard it is for me.

His voice is carefully blank, as if he doesn’t want to pressure me, when he asks, “Would you like to?”

No, no, no! I’m screaming inside as I say, “Sure, I think it would be nice. Unless you’d rather not?” Shit, I hope my voice doesn’t sound hopeful at that question. I started this and now I need to see it through.

“No, I’d love to. I believe getting out for a bit would do us both some good. Do you need help getting ready?” I think of the yoga pants I’ve been wearing daily and guess this is his way of assuming—or hoping—that I plan to leave my present wardrobe mainstay behind, at least for dinner.

“No, I can manage.” He drops a light kiss on the top of my head and leaves the room with more spring in his step than I’ve seen lately. I wait until he’s completely out of view before pulling myself slowly from the bed. I ache from a combination of my injuries and my lack of recent activity. Lying around has caused my body and my mood both to be sluggish. Even though it scares the hell out of me, I need to get out of this apartment just as badly as Lucian apparently does.

I step into the walk-in closet which now contains all of my clothing, thanks to Lucian sending Sam to pick it up, and look through the hangers until I find a maxi-dress that flows to my ankles. I add a scarf and black cardigan to hide the worst of my remaining bruises and slip my feet into a pair of black ballet flats. In the bathroom, I take the ponytail holder from my hair, letting it fall around my shoulders. I quickly brush it and add some lip-gloss. There is no use in adding further makeup with the ugly bandage on my nose. Lucian’s aunt has said I should be able to remove it soon. I have an appointment with Lucian’s personal physician next week.

He walks into the bathroom, looking gorgeous in a pair of dark jeans and a black button-down shirt. “Ready?” he asks before pulling me into his arms and holding me against his muscular chest. He has no idea how much I need what he is giving me right now. He has treated me more like his sister since we’ve been home until today. Feeling his arms around me for more than just a brief hug is Heaven. I know he has been afraid of hurting me, but I’ve missed this between us. He has taken to holding my hand at night when we go to sleep, and I wake almost every morning to find him already gone from the bed. I am starting to realize now that maybe he has just been trying to follow my lead. I’ve given him little reason to believe I want more from him, that I need more from him than ever before. While I’ve been trying to deal with the mess in my head, I’ve pushed him away. I know in my very bones that I couldn’t make it through all that has happened to me without him, and it’s time I tried to let him see that. I know I can’t bounce back to normal overnight, but he needs to know I need him.

I draw back slightly and he automatically loosens his hold, thinking I’m pulling away. Instead, I go up onto my tiptoes and press my lips to his. His arms tighten, and he groans. The kiss is gentle and I pour all the love I feel for him into it. When our lips finally part, he lays his forehead against mine. “I’ve missed you,” I admit, trying to convey so much into so few words.

He looks into my eyes as if he can see directly into my soul before saying, “I’m here, baby. I never left. I’m right here waiting for you whenever you’re ready to come back to me.”

Then it happens. The words flow from my mouth and my heart before I can stop them. “Oh, Luc, I love you.” His eyes widen and I feel him catch his breath. Even as the words hover in the air between us, I don’t regret them. The need to tell him how I feel has been choking me. The thing that surprises me the most about the moment, though, is that he hasn’t pulled away. He is still looking at me, as if trying to gauge the truth behind my words. I wordlessly cup the side of his face in my hand, letting him know it’s okay that he can’t say the words back. When I began to pull away, thinking it will be easier for him if I do, he tightens his hold on me before moving his hands from my back and curving them around my neck, holding me immobile.

“I want to give that to you, baby, I really do.” Looking tormented, he says raggedly, “I lose the people I love, though, and I…God, I can’t lose you, too.”