Deserving of Luke by Tracy Wolff

first. Simply looked at her. Noted all the changes and all the things that had stayed the same through the years. Suddenly he couldn’t think of anything to say.
    â€œDo you want a glass of wine?” Her voice was husky, sweet, and it sent shivers up his spine even as he told himself how stupid he was to respond to her. She’d lied to him, had—
    â€œNo, thanks. I’m driving.”
    â€œThat’s right. You’re a cop now. A law-abiding citizen. I’m having a hard time reconciling the new you with the guy I used to know.”
    â€œI was always a law-abiding citizen. I only liked to pretend otherwise.”
    â€œI remember.” She took a sip of her wine.
    â€œYou look good,” he said.
    â€œL.A. agrees with me. Certainly more than Prospect ever did.”
    Memories stretched between them, hanging on the silence like apples on a tree, ripe for the picking. He chose to ignore them, to walk past as though he wasn’t suddenly starving for a taste of them. Of her.
    â€œHis name’s Luke,” she said quietly, when the silence got to be too much for both of them. “It’s short for Lucas.”
    â€œThat’s a nice name.”
    â€œI think so. It was my neighbor’s, when I first moved to L.A. He helped me get settled, learn my way around. He even drove me to the hospital and waited while Luke was born. I don’t know what I would have done without him.”
    The anger surged, burning so hotly and brightly that he couldn’t think past it. “You could have come to me. You could have told me you were pregnant with our child. Then I would have been the one to be there, to help you.”
    â€œIs that how you remember it?” she asked offhandedly, as if his answer meant nothing to her.
    â€œThat’s how it would have been. I would have been with you every step of the way—”
    â€œIs that so? Because the way I remember it is, I told you I was pregnant with your child and you called me a whore—right before you tossed me out of your house.”
    â€œYou were sleeping with my best friend, with half the guys on the football team. How the hell was I supposed to believe the kid you were carrying was mine?”
    â€œI wasn’t sleeping with half the football team. I wasn’t sleeping with anyone but you. Only you didn’twant to believe that. Any more than you wanted to accept that you’d gotten me pregnant.
    â€œAccepting responsibility for that act would have meant you couldn’t live the perfect life mapped out for you. The one that mommy and daddy wanted you to live. The one that didn’t include the slutty girl from the wrong side of the river.”
    She was breathing hard by the time she finished, her chest rising and falling with each harsh inhalation. He probably shouldn’t be cheered by that fact, but it made him feel better to know that she wasn’t nearly as calm about this whole thing as she pretended to be.
    He didn’t answer for a minute, instead turning to stare into the inky blackness that surrounded the house. Looking at her brought back too many memories, including ones of how badly he’d treated her nine years before.
    But he wasn’t ready to deal with those memories yet—or the words she had just flung at him. Didn’t know if he’d ever be ready now that he knew she’d kept his child from him. How easy would it have been for her to return after his son was born and force him to see her and their child? No, he wasn’t going to let her turn this around. She could have played things way differently all those years ago.
    â€œLook,” he said, “I know your past is somethingyou’re ashamed of, but you can’t rewrite history to—”
    She stood. “Get out of here.”
    â€œWhat?” he asked, rising slowly so that they were face to face. Or, in this case, face to chest, since he stood about six inches taller than she