“Why do you blame yourself for Gino’s death?” she asked after a while.
His eyes watching her over the rim of his wineglass suddenly sharpened. “You really want to go down that road?”
She tilted her chin up. “Yes,” then, more softly, “I want to help you.”
“I was suspended, I confronted Gino, we argued and he had a heart attack,” he stated flatly.
He paused, almost as if he expected her to run screaming from the room. She stayed right where she was.
“Don’t look at me like that!” he muttered.
“Like what?”
“Like you’re doing right now. I don’t deserve it. I don’t need it.”
Beth sighed. “You don’t think you deserve my understanding and support?”
“No. Weren’t you listening? I killed my uncle.”
“So you said.”
Her composure was beginning to irritate him. “So I don’t need—”
“Don’t tell me what to feel, Luke.” She poked a finger in his chest. “You loved Gino. You miss him. How he died doesn’t erase a lifetime of good memories. Do you even know what I would’ve given for a family like yours?”
Luke’s scowl matched hers. “They’re not saints.”
“So whose are? At least they love you.”
He shook his head. “You don’t understand.”
“Whatever taints them taints you, right?” From the look on his face she knew she’d hit a nerve. “And you think bottling up your misplaced guilt is a good way of handling it? If Gino were alive, you’d still have to go through the inquiry. You’d still be on suspension. Nothing would’ve changed. Would Gino have wanted you beating yourself up about it?” She went on more gently. “With all this craziness around you, you don’t need to take the blame for Gino, too. You can’t do your job if you don’t respect your own decisions. Believe me, I know.”
Luke was staring at her, his dark eyes narrowed to speculative slits.
“How do you do that?” he muttered.
“What?”
“Know exactly what—” He looked away.
“What you’re thinking?” She gave him a smile. “You’ve hardly cornered the market on the guilt trip. Don’t punish yourself. Tell Rosa how you feel.”
Luke snorted. “And have her hate me?”
“She won’t hate you. She loves you.”
Luke just stared straight ahead, intent on his thoughts.
His profile was perfect—full mouth, strong nose, broad brow. And underneath lurked a vulnerability that tugged at her heart so badly she wanted to wrap her arms around him and never let go.
“You can trust me, too, you know.”
Luke tilted the glass to his lips and swallowed, letting her statement hang until it felt like a leaded weight.
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