I hadn’t noticed before.
First, Lucas had kissed me back. Not timidly, either, but with a ferocity that had surprised and almost scared me. If kissing me were so awful, why had he kissed me back like that?
Secondly, there had been something wrong with his eyes as he had raged at me. Something more than anger had been there. A hint of sadness? Bleakness, even? It was hard to say for sure, but I suddenly realized something had happened to the boy I loved while he had been gone these past two years.
He wasn’t the same person he had been when he had given me the locket. Something inside of Lucas Young had died, and I wasn’t sure I could bring it back to life. Therefore, I was going to do the only thing I could do—: give Lucas space.
People said, if you loved something, set it free, and what you loved would return to you. I didn’t know if Lucas would ever return to me as the man he was before, but I loved him enough to set him free.
Still, I was going to keep the only piece of him I could possibly keep now: the heart-shaped locket. Then, one day, perhaps when I was stronger, I would take off his necklace and store it away in a box in the back of my closet where it would inevitably be lost. Until then, I would have to find a way to move on, although a piece of my shattered heart tried to tell me it wasn’t possible.
I eventually fell asleep with my hand still wrapped around my heart-shaped locket, sad that was the only piece of Lucas Young’s heart I would ever truly hold.
Chapter
9
Lucas
Twenty-Three Years Old
Due to another deployment, the next time I saw Ginny was a year and a half later. In that time, I hadn’t received one card, letter, or email from my little sister’s best friend. Mission accomplished, right?
Perhaps a little too well. I couldn’t take not hearing from Gin at all. It might be selfish on my part to want to keep in contact with her, but I couldn’t handle not knowing how she was doing.
I’d spent half my time in Afghanistan distracted, wondering about what she was doing. What she was drawing. If she had finally given up on me like I had done my best to force her to do. Imaging her with another guy was a double-edged sword. But that was what I had wanted for her, right?
The problem was, the mere idea made me want to puke my guts out, punch holes in shit, blow something up. It was irrational, and I totally didn’t give a fuck. I’d spent too much of my life taking care of the blonde-haired angel across the street to give her up completely. Maybe I couldn’t have her in the capacity that I wanted her, but I still needed her in my life in any way I could get her.
She had been dropped off at the family dinner by her boyfriend. My secret worst fear. I had no one to blame but myself, though, right? Then I had to watch as that shithead put his hands all over her while kissing her good-bye.
It had burned like a motherfucker to watch her with him, but that was my burden to bear. She was safe, seemed happy, and that was all I had ever wanted.
What bothered me that night was that she wouldn’t look me directly in the eye. She had looked over my shoulder, at my chest, but she refused to look at my face. That burned, too. I had done that to her.
I might not be able to have her in my bed for the rest of my life, but I couldn’t stand the thought of not having her in my life. I had to fix this shit.
As a result, I cornered her in the living room when she went to go grab her forgotten cell phone off the end table while everybody else was in the kitchen.
“Gin.”
Her body froze. It was painfully obvious she would rather talk to a rattlesnake than be alone with me, making me feel like more of an ass than I already did.
After turning toward me, she stared at a spot over my shoulder and replied, “Yes, Lucas?”
Nope. I refused to talk to her if she wouldn’t look at me.
Reaching out a hand, I gripped her chin with my fingers and pulled her face until I caught her gaze. “That’s
First, Lucas had kissed me back. Not timidly, either, but with a ferocity that had surprised and almost scared me. If kissing me were so awful, why had he kissed me back like that?
Secondly, there had been something wrong with his eyes as he had raged at me. Something more than anger had been there. A hint of sadness? Bleakness, even? It was hard to say for sure, but I suddenly realized something had happened to the boy I loved while he had been gone these past two years.
He wasn’t the same person he had been when he had given me the locket. Something inside of Lucas Young had died, and I wasn’t sure I could bring it back to life. Therefore, I was going to do the only thing I could do—: give Lucas space.
People said, if you loved something, set it free, and what you loved would return to you. I didn’t know if Lucas would ever return to me as the man he was before, but I loved him enough to set him free.
Still, I was going to keep the only piece of him I could possibly keep now: the heart-shaped locket. Then, one day, perhaps when I was stronger, I would take off his necklace and store it away in a box in the back of my closet where it would inevitably be lost. Until then, I would have to find a way to move on, although a piece of my shattered heart tried to tell me it wasn’t possible.
I eventually fell asleep with my hand still wrapped around my heart-shaped locket, sad that was the only piece of Lucas Young’s heart I would ever truly hold.
Chapter
9
Lucas
Twenty-Three Years Old
Due to another deployment, the next time I saw Ginny was a year and a half later. In that time, I hadn’t received one card, letter, or email from my little sister’s best friend. Mission accomplished, right?
Perhaps a little too well. I couldn’t take not hearing from Gin at all. It might be selfish on my part to want to keep in contact with her, but I couldn’t handle not knowing how she was doing.
I’d spent half my time in Afghanistan distracted, wondering about what she was doing. What she was drawing. If she had finally given up on me like I had done my best to force her to do. Imaging her with another guy was a double-edged sword. But that was what I had wanted for her, right?
The problem was, the mere idea made me want to puke my guts out, punch holes in shit, blow something up. It was irrational, and I totally didn’t give a fuck. I’d spent too much of my life taking care of the blonde-haired angel across the street to give her up completely. Maybe I couldn’t have her in the capacity that I wanted her, but I still needed her in my life in any way I could get her.
She had been dropped off at the family dinner by her boyfriend. My secret worst fear. I had no one to blame but myself, though, right? Then I had to watch as that shithead put his hands all over her while kissing her good-bye.
It had burned like a motherfucker to watch her with him, but that was my burden to bear. She was safe, seemed happy, and that was all I had ever wanted.
What bothered me that night was that she wouldn’t look me directly in the eye. She had looked over my shoulder, at my chest, but she refused to look at my face. That burned, too. I had done that to her.
I might not be able to have her in my bed for the rest of my life, but I couldn’t stand the thought of not having her in my life. I had to fix this shit.
As a result, I cornered her in the living room when she went to go grab her forgotten cell phone off the end table while everybody else was in the kitchen.
“Gin.”
Her body froze. It was painfully obvious she would rather talk to a rattlesnake than be alone with me, making me feel like more of an ass than I already did.
After turning toward me, she stared at a spot over my shoulder and replied, “Yes, Lucas?”
Nope. I refused to talk to her if she wouldn’t look at me.
Reaching out a hand, I gripped her chin with my fingers and pulled her face until I caught her gaze. “That’s
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