Lobster rolls, fried clams, and wicked oysters were set down in front of them, all with accompanying sauces. Ian draped the napkin over his lap and leaned forward, catching Lucy’s gaze as he did. She looked away and pretended to be engrossed in the food.
“This is delicious.”
Lucy nodded. “It is.”
“I’m glad we’re doing this.”
Lucy offered him a distracted smile and picked up her phone again. “Me too.”
The two of them lapsed into silence again.
So much for being on the same page.
Ian ran a hand over his face and pushed his chair back with a screech. Then he offered Lucy an apologetic smile and wove in and out of the crowd of people. In the bathroom, he stared at the mirror above the sink and frowned. After examining his entire reflection, he squeezed through the hallway that spilled out into the main part of the restaurant.
Lucy was on the phone when he came up behind her, conversation rising and falling steadily around him.
“I told you I can’t talk tonight. I know you need me to sign those papers, but I haven’t decided about the power of attorney yet.”
Ian’s chest tightened.
“Send me the revised version of the will, but I’ll look at it later,” Lucy continued in a lower voice.
She glanced up, saw Ian lingering behind her, and did a double take. The phone fell out of her hand, and Ian caught it before it hit the floor with a thud. Wordlessly, he set it down on the table and moved back to his own chair.
“What’s going on, Luce? And don’t tell me it’s nothing. It’s been months of you avoiding me and acting strange. I’ve tried to be patient and give you space, but I don’t think I can do it anymore.”
Lucy took a long sip of her water.
“Why are you talking to your lawyer? Are you asking him about divorce?”
Lucy choked on her drink and used the napkin to dab. “What? No, I’m not asking him about that. Ian, I…”
Ian leaned back in his chair and motioned for her to continue.
“I’ve been sick,” Lucy said, the words tumbling out of her in a rush. “I didn’t want to say anything till I knew what it was, but it doesn’t seem like I’m going to find out anytime soon. The doctors can’t figure out what’s wrong with me.”
Ian’s mouth turned dry. “Doctors? As in plural?”
Bile rose in the back of his throat.
“I’ve tried neurologists, dermatologists, cardiologists. Maggie and I have been to several doctors in Falmouth and in the neighboring towns. I’ve even gone to an oncologist and an orthopedic surgeon. None of them know what’s wrong with me.”
Ian’s ears were ringing as he leaned forward. “Why didn’t you tell me? I could’ve gone with you.”
He should’ve noticed what was happening in front of him instead of allowing his mother’s case to consume him.
Everyone was right.
How could he have let Lucy slip through the cracks and not notice?
Lucy swallowed. “I know you would’ve, but you’ve been so busy with your mom’s case and worrying about the detective’s exam… I didn’t want to be one more thing you worried about.”
Ian leaned forward and took both of her hands in his. “Luce, nothing else matters, okay? Whatever this is, we’re going to figure it out, and we’re going to get through it together.”
Lucy sniffed. “I hope so.”
Ian got up, pulled Lucy to her feet, and drew her in for a hug. A moment later, he gestured to the waiter, paid the bill, and took their take-out containers to the car. Using his free hand, he laced his fingers through Lucy’s and squeezed.
