-6-

Luke and Tracy got back to their hotel in silence. Once they got up to the room, Tracy wordlessly shed her clothes and headed into the bathroom to take a steaming hot bubble bath as Luke helped himself to the mini-bar, needing the buzz of alcohol. Affected much more by Layla's story than he cared to admit, Spencer sighed deeply as he downed the bitter amber liquid which was poured in the glass.

Setting the glass on a table, he walked over to the closed bathroom door and gently rapped his knuckles against the wood, "Trace?"

Tracy sat up in the tub of bubbles and hot water, "Yes?"

Luke's voice was muffled from the other side, "Can I come in?"

Tracy ran some hot water up her upper arms, "Yes, of course."

Luke walked in the bathroom and stood still, watching his wife, "You are so beautiful."

The auburn haired woman blushed as she looked down for a moment and then lifted her eyes back up towards her husband, "How are you feeling? Better?"

Luke sighed as he leaned against the vanity, "Physically, for the moment, I feel fine. Emotionally, my stomach is running on roller coasters that is going up and down and in loops."

"Luke," she said quietly.

"Tracy, I need to tell you something and I can't do it if you interrupt me. I need you to just be silent and let me get it all out, because..." Luke stopped for a moment, struggling to find his words, "because if you say something, or react, or do anything while I do this, than I'll just clam up and we may never recover."

Tracy looked at her husband, softly, "Alright. Let me get out of the tub and dry off and get dressed and then you can tell me." Reaching down, she pulled the plug and the water began to rush down the drain. Getting out of the tub, she noticed as Luke turned his head away from her. Swallowing hard, Tracy reached for a towel and quickly dried off her body and put her pajamas on. "Okay," she sighed, "let's do this. Where do you want to do it?"

"Bedroom." Luke said simply as he walked out of the bathroom.

Following her husband, Tracy went in and sat down on the bed and watched as Luke sat down on the opposite corner, his back to her, "The night we conceived Layla was the worst night of my life."

"Well, gee, thanks, I love you too." Tracy remarked dryly.

Luke sighed, quietly, "Tracy, please. It had nothing to do with you. It had to do with what happened prior." Tracy nodded, silent for a change, waiting for him to continue. "When you came, you asked why my shirt was unbuttoned and why I was barefoot. You also wanted to know why the place was in disarray. You asked if something had happened, and I said no." Turning, Luke looked at his wife, "I lied to you, Tracy. Something did happen. Something significant. Something that will haunt me until the day I die. I was able to put that night away in the back of my head. I was able to convince myself that it had never happened, that I wasn't that animal. In a twisted way, you helped. You came into the disco wearing that flashy gold halter top and short black skirt. You were wearing those black go-go boots... God, you were so sexy. Your hair was up high and perfumed. You were the total opposite of her. She was the good girl and you were the bad girl."

"Who?" Tracy whispered quietly. "Who was the good girl, Luke?"

Turning his back to her again, Luke said quietly, "Laura." Luke stood up and began to pace. "What had happened before you came in had never happened again with any other woman on this planet, Tracy, it's important that not only you know that, but that you understand it. I don't condone my actions that night. I was weak. I was a pitiful excuse of a man. Hell, I wasn't even a man that night, I was a coward. She came to me, offering me her friendship, her compassion and I ripped everything from her in a split second. I didn't want to be her friend, I told her. I was angry with her, but I was more angry with myself. For falling in love with her. I told her she had me between two worlds that just did not mix. Look what you've done to me, I told her. Instead of being a man and accepting the blame, I threw it all on a seventeen-year-old girl. And that's when I did it. That's when I put the music on and that's when I forced her to dance with me, convinced that I'd never again hold her in my arms."

Tracy remained silent, a chill falling over her body as she listened to the ramblings of her guilt-ridden husband.

"I forced Laura to dance with me, and I kissed her and forced her to kiss me back. I could have stopped there. I easily could have stopped there, I wouldn't have ruined her life if I had stopped there. But I didn't. I wanted more. I had to have more. Because I'm a selfish man and one kiss is never enough for me. But Laura was young, and innocent and pure and beautiful, and definitely not mine. I didn't care. I wanted her. To me, she was the Holy Grail. A relic that had to be in my posession. She was wearing a skirt that night, which only served to drive me wild with desire. I felt things that night that I had never felt prior. My hand went up her skirt and I kicked some of it up, I saw the flash of young flesh and I went nuts, I was hungry for more. Without further thought, I pushed that woman down onto the floor of my disco and held her legs open and raped her. She screamed the entire time. 'No, Luke, no, stop, it hurts, stop, Luke, please, stop'... When I was finished, Laura was like a rag doll, discarded, dirty, broken. She made this sound, Tracy, this sound like an animal makes when it is in pain, when it is dying. I had done that to her. I did that."

The color drained from Tracy's face as she tried to imagine her husband committing such a brutal act upon another person. Her voice was soft, yet unwavering, "Continue."

Still unable to look at his wife, Luke was grateful that he wasn't standing in front of glass, for he was sure that the glass would reflect the tears which were streaming down his face, yet his voice was unchanged, not giving in to the emotion. "Laura ran out of the disco and to the park, where a policeman found her. She told them that the rape had happened there. She never named me. You came into the picture three hours after the fact. By then, I had went home, showered and came back and cleaned up the mess. You were standing there in that mini skirt that barely covered your ass and that top with the plunging neckline down to your navel. You wanted me. You made that abundantly clear. You didn't give a damn about Mitch Williams, hell, I knew you didn't even like me, you just wanted a lay. So I gave you one. I know I was rough with you, I saw the beginnings of the bruises as you were dressing. Yet you weren't crying. I punished myself, but it seemed to me that you wanted me to punish you as well."

"I did," she admitted in a whisper. "I was beating myself up because I didn't know what I wanted. I didn't know who I wanted. I had heard Amy Vining talking about you when I went to see Alan at the hospital. I wanted to see it for myself." Tracy slowly got out of bed and walked around it and stood before her husband, looking at him, speaking quietly, "You made a mistake, Luke. A horrible, horrible mistake. Obviously, you and Laura moved on. You two married and had children and were together for twenty years. It's clear that she forgave you and loved you despite it. Was it Stockholm Syndrome?" Tracy nodded, "Yeah, maybe it was. In the beginning. But that quickly turned to a pure and genuine love. Luke, anybody with eyes could see that the two of you adored each other."

Luke looked at her, speaking softly, "Why aren't you running for the hills? Or at the very least, why aren't you in a different corner on the opposite side of the room, edging towards the door?"

"Because you are my husband," Tracy said, reaching up and wiping his tears with the pads of her thumbs, "and I love you more this very second than I have ever loved you before. You aren't the man you were twenty years ago, Luke. You are a very different man. I believe that you didn't get up that morning and say to yourself, 'Today is the day I'm going to rape a woman'. You aren't that calculating. I don't think that you ever intentionally want to hurt anybody." Stepping away from him, she leaned against the glass window, still facing him, "It all makes sense though."

Luke looked at her, quietly, "What does?"

"Your obsession with Laura. You hurt her in the worst possible way a man could ever hurt a woman. Yet you've also atoned for your sins. You've repented in your own way, and, again in your own way, you've asked for forgiveness. You've made it your life's mission to protect her, whether you are her husband or not. I understand now, Luke, it's all very clear to me. I know that you love me, and I know that you don't constantly look at Laura and wonder if the grass is greener. I also know that you now view yourself as the one who needs to keep her safe, to make sure that she isn't hurt again."

He nodded and slowly crossed towards her, cupping her face in his hands and looking into her eyes, whispering softly, "That night was hell for me, but one good thing did come out of it. Layla. I do love you, Tracy. You were not my first love, but you are definitely my last one." Leaning down, he brushed his lips across hers for the briefest of seconds. Pulling back, he looked at her, "Thank you for not judging me."

Tracy took a deep breath, "Husband, you just remember this time the next time I throw something at you out of left field."

Luke looked at her for a moment and caught the glint in her eye and chuckled softly. Nodding, he picked her hand up and kissed her knuckles and led her to the bed where the two laid in silence, each wrapped up in the arms of the other.