Coming Home(130)

She felt Sarah nudge her with her elbow, and when Leah opened her eyes, Sarah nodded toward the front of the bar. Kyle stood in the doorway, gesturing for Leah to come outside, and she pushed off the stool so quickly that it crashed back against the bar as she made her way through the crowd.

As soon as she stepped outside, she looked around frantically. “Where is he?”

“He’s in the car. He’s okay now, but I’m thinking you guys should probably call it a night.”

She nodded quickly. “Okay. Thank you,” she said. “I’m sorry about your night—”

“Don’t worry about it,” Kyle said, cutting her off as he put his hand on her back. “You okay?”

Leah forced a tiny smile and nodded, and then she turned and kissed Sarah on the cheek, telling her she’d call her tomorrow.

As Sarah and Kyle went back into the bar, Leah turned and walked briskly through the parking lot toward Danny’s car. As she got closer, she slowed, nearly stopping; she could see the outline of him sitting in the driver’s seat, his hands gripping the wheel and his head down.

She pulled the door open and slid into the seat, closing it softly behind her, waiting for him to say something. To do something.

Nearly a minute passed, but he remained in the same position, unmoving and silent.

If he was angry with her, he had every right to be. She had been irresponsible, and because of it, he had to risk everything to defend her.

Leah kept her eyes trained on the dashboard as she chewed the inside of her lip. She wanted so desperately to talk to him, but she also knew that timing was everything. If he hadn’t fully cooled off yet, she didn’t want to say or do anything that would aggravate the situation.

After a minute she saw Danny close his eyes and shake his head ever so slightly. He dropped his hand from the wheel—the first real movement he’d made since Leah sat beside him—and he brought it to the ignition, starting the car.

The entire drive home was spent in silence. Danny kept his eyes on the road and both hands on the wheel, and although she stole several fleeting glances at him, he did not look at her once.

As they pulled into the empty space in front of Leah’s apartment, her eyes began to sting with the threat of tears. She wanted him to say something—anything—and when he didn’t, she dropped her eyes, nodding softly before she turned and exited the car.

As soon as she was outside, the tears she’d been fighting all night finally spilled over, and she picked up the pace, desperate to get inside the refuge of her apartment.

Leah pushed through the door and walked straight to the kitchen table, dropping her purse before she splayed her hands over the wood and bowed her head. And then she heard the front door close softly behind her, and her breath caught in her throat as she lifted her head.

She hadn’t expected him to follow.

Leah kept her back to him as she tried to pull herself together. There were a million things she wanted to say, but she didn’t know where to start, or where to draw the line for that matter. All she knew was that she wanted to make this better. The last thing she wanted to do was fight with him.

“I’m so sorry, Leah,” he said suddenly, his hoarse whisper cutting through the stillness.

She turned around to see him standing in front of the door, his head down as he played with the keys in his hand.

“What are you sorry for?” she asked, her voice barely audible. “This is all my fault.”

His hand instantly stilled as he lifted his eyes to hers. “Your fault?” he asked. “You think this is your fault?”