Loving Lucifer [COMPLETE]

Chapter 42

The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. My heart stopped. My blood froze. I couldn't breathe.

The moment he walked into the bar, I got an instant flashback of the first time I had seen him. He had been a beautiful mystery back then - a customer; a stranger...a momentary flirtation. And then everything had tumbled down as he wooed me with his reappearance, his texts, and his mesmerizing eyes.

Everything was different now. Clad in a pair of beautiful but simple dark jeans, a blue checked shirt, and a dark blue pullover, Luke looked like an entirely different person. His hands were in the front pockets of his jeans, his shoulders slouched forward. His face, still the beautiful face I had known so well, seemed tired and in desperate need of hydration. Luke seemed thinner now.

I told myself I must have forgotten what he'd looked like over the past few months, but I knew it could not be the case - I had memorized every inch of him; written every skin cell into my heart and etched every breath he'd taken into my brain.

His eyes met mine and my world stopped. Everything seemed to have gone silent; it was a tense, thick noiselessness through which I could only hear the beating of our two hearts. And then it was broken by the sound of a shattering plate. I looked down at the mess of broken glass at my feet, and tears filled my eyes when I realised that it couldn't compare to the mess of broken muscle in my chest - my broken heart.

I turned and went to the back, retrieving a dustpan. When I returned, Luke had disappeared. I cleaned up the mess on my own, like I had done the last time, and rushed to the back to hide from everyone.

My phone buzzed in my apron pocket. My heart began to race.

Indian?

It was only Matt.

Not really hungry.

We're eating. Indian ok?

Ok.

I burst into angry tears; how could I hope for him to text me? I had made it clear to him to leave me alone, and that was the way it should be. He had attacked Matt and he had attacked me; why was his disappearance upsetting me so much?

I dried my eyes and carried on with my shift, but I had no idea of what I was doing. I reluctantly ate dinner with Matt, doing my utmost to pretend everything was okay. But it wasn't. I spent thirty minutes in the shower; long enough for all the hot water to run out. But it was fine. That way, I couldn't tell the difference between the clean water and my tears. I disappeared into my room; I didn't want to see anyone. But once I was there, I realised I wouldn't have to. The apartment was dead silent. Matt must have gone over to Sam's.

Good. I needed to be alone.

I opened up my laptop and binged on Netflix and chocolate. My heart was filled with anger; anger at myself for allowing him to affect me - for clinging on to the buried desire for communication with him. Why was I so weak?

My phone buzzed again.

I'm sorry I showed up. I'll disappear.

My heart got lodged somewhere in my throat, preventing me from breathing at all. I wanted to tell him to do just that - to disappear and to never show his face again. But my hand was shaking, the words on my phone barely readable as it shivered between my fingers, and something in my gut told me not to tell him that - not to send the cruel words.

Don't

I pressed send, sending myself into another rant of self-doubt and self-hatred. Why had I sent it? Why couldn't I just leave it alone? Nobody had asked him to come to Terry's. Nobody had asked him to send an apology. So why did I feel responsible for him?