Coming Home(23)

Holly lifted her glass. “Well, here’s to hoping you don’t hump his leg midway through the ceremony.”

They all cracked up, earning looks from the other patrons in the restaurant just as the faint sound of Leah’s phone pulled her attention from the revelry. She reached into her purse and pulled it out just enough to check the screen.

And then she scowled, sending the call to voice mail before tossing it back into her bag.

“What was that about?” Robyn asked, nodding toward Leah’s purse.

“Nothing,” she answered dismissively, reaching for the chips. She scooped up a heap of salsa and shoved the whole thing in her mouth, trying to ignore the fact that both girls were staring at her deliberately.

“Leah.”

“Ugh, fine,” she mumbled around her mouthful of food, reaching for her drink and taking a huge gulp to wash everything down before she said, “He’s calling again.”

“Scott?” both girls said in unison, their voices incredulous, and Leah nodded.

“Fuck that,” Holly said firmly. “Pick up the goddamn phone and tell him to go to hell.”

“When did this start again?” Robyn asked.

“Just before Christmas. So, like two weeks, I guess.”

“Have you spoken to him?”

Leah shook her head.

“What a douchebag,” Holly huffed, taking a sip of her margarita.

“Whatever. It’s not a big deal. I’m just gonna ignore him.”

“I just don’t get it,” Robyn said. “I mean, does he really think you’d take him back?”

Leah grimaced, looking down. This was the last thing she wanted to be talking about. Talking made her remember, and she hated remembering.

She’d been driving home from the hospital the night her father had his heart attack. Leah had cried the entire way, struggling to see through her swollen eyes and the tears that blurred her vision. She had almost lost him—and she knew she could still lose him. He was in critical condition, his prognosis uncertain, and she couldn’t stop thinking about how much time she had wasted. She was furious at herself. At her obstinate behavior.

And at that moment, she was furious at her boyfriend.

When she had called to tell him what happened to her father, he told her how sorry he was, but when she asked him to come to the hospital with her, he said he couldn’t—that his brother was out drinking with some friends, and he’d promised to be available to pick them up at the end of the night.

Scott had never really liked Leah’s family—he’d made it very clear in the almost three years they’d been together—so it was typical of him to come up with some excuse as to why he couldn’t spend time with them.

But this was different. And he should have recognized that.

He’d told her to keep him updated and that he’d check up on her later, but all she wanted was for him to be there with her. Supporting her.

Leah made an impulse decision, getting off the highway two exits early and heading toward his place instead of her own apartment. She wanted to tell him that he’d let her down.

But more than that, she just wanted to be held.

She wanted him to wrap her in his arms and press his lips into her hair and tell her everything was going to be okay.

That she wasn’t a terrible person.

When he didn’t answer the door, Leah assumed he’d gone out to pick up his brother, so she used the key hidden in the outdoor sconce to let herself in.

As soon as she opened the door, she knew something was wrong.