Coming Home(92)

“I’m being charged with manslaughter.”

Leah stared down at him, and he watched the rapid rise and fall of her chest as her breathing grew ragged, that same panicked look on her face.

He looked at her dark hair falling over her shoulders, those beautiful, expressive eyes, her delicate nose, the lips that could steal his breath and make him feel alive at the same time. He wanted to memorize everything about her while he still could.

And then, without warning, she threw herself forward, wrapping her arms around him so tightly, he could feel her muscles trembling with the effort.

His heart stopped in his chest before it picked up double time.

Every time he had envisioned this moment, it always ended with some variation of her leaving, some version of her being horrified, afraid, disgusted.

But never once had he imagined this.

“Leah.” He sighed as he cradled her in his arms, and another sob broke from her lips, stifled by the front of his shirt.

“But you didn’t mean to do it,” she said through her tears. “It was an accident. Just tell them it was an accident.”

Danny closed his eyes as he rubbed his hand up and down her back. She was defending him. And in a way, it was almost more painful than it would have been if she told him to go to hell.

“It doesn’t work that way, sweet girl,” he whispered.

She nodded against his chest before she sniffled. “So there’s no way? There’s no way this will be okay?”

Danny slid his hand up under her hair, massaging her neck gently. “The best I can hope for is that the judge will take into consideration what happened with Bryan, that I have no priors…and maybe he’ll be understanding of the situation.”

“The judge? What about the jury?”

“It’s not going to trial,” he said. “I’m copping a plea. It’s better that way.”

“How?” she asked, wiping her nose with her sleeve as she sat up to look at him.

“It should lessen the sentence,” he said softly.

It was quiet for several seconds before she whispered, “How long?”

He ran his fingers through the back of her hair. “A couple of years, probably.”

She closed her eyes as her chin trembled violently, and he used his hand behind her neck to pull her back down to him.

“I’m so sorry, Leah,” he whispered as she buried her face in his shirt.

“Don’t apologize,” she said, her voice breaking before she sniffled and hiccupped against his chest, and he held her, running his hands over her back, her arms, her hair, anywhere he could reach.

After several minutes she spoke again, her voice softly breaking the silence. “How much more time do you have?”

“I don’t know. A lot of stuff got held up in the beginning because of everything with Bryan and his involvement in all this. It’s all paper pushing at this point. The court date for my sentencing hasn’t been set, but my lawyer says it will be sometime this year.”

She nodded against him.

“And I’ll understand, Leah. I swear to you, I’ll understand.”

“Understand what?” she whispered.

“If this changes how you feel about me.”

She sat up, looking down at him, and he stared back up at her. “I’ll understand,” he promised.

And he would. He wouldn’t hate her for walking away. He wouldn’t even hate her if she thought he was a monster, because the truth was, he’d never felt like more of a monster than he did in this moment, watching her hurt for him.