After several minutes of crying and Luther not speaking a word but hugging and rubbing my back only, I felt my throat run dry. When I tried to pull away from him, he quickly released me and headed to the kitchen. When he returned, he handed me a glass of water and I drank it all as he gazed at me with concern.
"What's wrong, Faith?" he finally asked, taking my hands into mine.
When I eyed his laptop, its screen was turned off. "Why Luther? Why didn't you tell me?" I asked back in an accusatory tone.
His brows pulled together in confusion. I freed my hands from his grasp and pointed at his laptop, not having the energy and strength to explain it all. Even in his bewildered state, he pressed the touchpad, and his email was displayed on the monitor. His head instantly hung low while his ha
