The Atonement (The Arrangement, #3)(54)

“When? Is that where you were last night? I came by your hotel room, but I thought maybe you’d gotten freaked out because…well…because of what happened.” He cast a wary glance over his shoulder, obviously trying to decide if I’d told my mother about our night together, though at that point, it was the least of my concerns.

“No, I’m sorry. I wasn’t standing you up. I was in an accident and came here after. I completely forgot about—”

“Sure. Yeah…” He was still studying me with a pained expression. “My gosh… It looks really bad. Did you go to the hospital? You could have a concussion. I can drive you if you want.”

I waved off his concern. “I’m fine. It was minor.”

“Ainsley, I know I have no right to tell you what to do, but as a medical professional, I feel like I need to insist that you go get checked out. You have a pretty serious road rash. Were you thrown from a vehicle? That doesn’t sound minor.”

“I’m fine, I swear. It looks worse than it feels.”

“Do you think she’ll be scarred, Matt? Will it heal okay?” Mom asked from across the room.

“It’s hard to say,” he admitted, still scrutinizing me. He moved the collar of my shirt and lifted my chin with his finger, checking my neck to see where the wounds ended. I pulled away self-consciously.

“I swear I’m—”

Mom’s phone began to ring from where it lay on the counter, and she picked it up, looking at the caller ID. “Oh, honey, it’s Glennon. Want to take it?”

I’d never in my life heard my mother call me honey, but I reached for the phone anyway. “Hello?”

When I’d returned to the house without a phone, I’d called Glennon to let her know what was going on and arranged for her to pick me up from the airport this evening. She’d been worried sick after my abrupt hang up on Maisy, and I imagined she’d be calling me frequently until I arrived.

“Ainsley, I—I don’t know what happened. He was here and then he was gone, and it all happened so fast and he must’ve gotten ahold of a credit card, but I don’t know how because I’m always so careful with my cards and Seth never leaves his wallet out and—”

“Wait, what?” I interrupted, trying to make sense of her frazzled words. “What are you talking about? Who’s gone? What happened?”

“It’s Dylan,” she cried. “He booked a flight to Nashville. He must’ve left overnight. He’s gone, Ainsley. He’s just gone.”





CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE





PETER





“Hey, Dad.” Dylan threw himself into my arms, patting my back with a hug that said he missed me as much as I knew he must’ve.

I pulled back, taking a closer look at him. “Hey, bud. I’ve missed you.”

“Me too. I’m glad you called. When I saw Mom’s number…I never expected it to be you.”

“I know. I’m sure you have a lot of questions, and I understand why you haven’t been answering my calls. But I was so glad to get ahold of you.”

“Your calls? I…I’ve been trying to call you.”

I swallowed. “Oh.” Ainsley.

“Mom said you were working and didn’t have service.”

I nodded slowly as it began to sink in. She really had thought of everything, hadn’t she? Or…almost everything, anyway. “Yeah. Well, I’ll explain that in a minute. Right now, I want to hear about you. How was your visit with Glennon and Seth?”

“Eh, it was alright. Glad to be home, though.”

Lifting his bag with one hand, I slung the other around his shoulders as we began to make our way through the airport.

“What happened to your wrist?” he asked, staring at my freshly bandaged wrist resting on his shoulder.

I pulled it back, shaking my head noncommittally. “Oh, it’s nothing. How are your brother and sister?”

“Fine, I guess. Annoying as ever.” He laughed. “I’m sorry we all left. Mom didn’t give us a choice, you know?”

“Yeah.” I was quiet for a moment. “Dylan, about that, I’ve got some bad news. About Mom.”

He stopped. “What is it? Is it about why you had her phone? Is she okay?”

“Yeah, she is. At least, for now, anyway.” I urged him forward as I caught sight of the exit doors. “Come on, we’ll talk more about it in the car.”

“Okay, yeah. Sure.” He sounded more confident than I was sure he felt, his jaw locked tight.

A few minutes later, once we’d made it to the car, I loaded his bag in the trunk and sat down in the driver’s seat. His expression was distraught, obviously imagining the worst.

“I’m not sure what your mom told you about what’s going on between us…”

“She said you’re separating. That you’re probably going to get divorced.” His eyes searched mine. “Is that true?”

I huffed out a sigh, looking down and pinching the bridge of my nose. “Unfortunately, yeah. That’s what she wants.”

“But you don’t? Can’t you just, like, talk to her? Can’t you just buy her some flowers or something? It’s just a stupid fight, right? There has to be a way to—”