Page 40 of The Road Back Home

I have avoided replying to anything Luci or Tristan send in texts regarding Holden. I’m well-aware the refusal is causing them to worry about me, but the thought of telling them the truth ices my veins. I can’t admit it. I can’t verbalize the fears, the reality. So I lie.

It isn’t until the beginning of August, a month and a half after the disastrous date, that I feel everything crumbling further around me.

Checking the time on my phone for the fifth time in the last hour, I blow out a sharp breath.

There are still no new notifications, no texts apologizing.

No I’m on my way s . I stuff the device into my back pocket and blink rapidly to clear away the tears that are forming.

I’m not surprised, and that surprises me.

I hadn’t realized I’d become so accustomed to the radio silence.

I step out of the cool building, sweat beading along my hairline almost immediately.

Ashton whines at the heat, stomps his feet as he follows me.

The air is heavy with the impending storm; I gently push the toddler back into the shade provided by the awning, but there is no escape from the temperature.

The sight of his reddening cheeks is enough to break my heart.

I wish, not for the first time, my car hadn’t broken down. Again.

“Do you need a ride?”

I glance over my shoulder at the man approaching. Lily’s father smiles, a thing that does nothing to reassure me. Were he anyone other than who he is, I would have nearly collapsed to my knees in gratitude. As it is, though, I step between the man and Ashton.

“No, thanks,” I reply, thankful my voice is steadier than I feel. “We’re fine. My boyfriend’s just running a bit late.”

“Are you sure? We don’t mind.”

Of course you don’t . “Yeah, I’m sure.”

The man is so close, too close, and I force myself to draw in a calming breath. It doesn’t work. My pulse roars in my ears, and I swallow against the tightness in my throat. His mouth opens, but another voice comes from behind him, cutting him off with efficiency.

“There you are.”

Josh nears on quick footsteps, and his stormy eyes scan the scene in front of him.

I hope like Hell that he registers my discomfort.

His gaze cuts to my face, then he reaches for Ashton.

The child, accustomed to Josh’s presence, goes easily enough.

I lean heavily into Josh’s side when his arm loops around my shoulders.

“Lemme guess,” he says lightly. “You forgot where we parked this morning?”

It takes every ounce of willpower I possess not to fall to the ground in relief.

I nod with a watery giggle as Josh presses a kiss to my damp hair.

He whispers a Keep going against my skin, and I resist the urge to run away.

His grip tightens, a comforting touch, and I allow him to steer me toward the opposite end of the parking lot.

Lily’s father’s truck pulls out onto the street a moment later. I blow out a breath and lower myself to sit on the edge of the sidewalk while Josh distracts Ashton as he unlocks the door to his car. Once I have myself under control again, I wipe the sweat from my face with the hem of my blouse.

“Thanks. Seriously, I can’t thank you enough.”

Josh frowns and stares down at me. “No problem. You looked uncomfortable. But… I thought you’d already gone.”

“My ride hasn’t shown up yet.”

“Dealla, this might be cruel, it might be pouring salt into the wound, but it’s been almost an hour. I don’t think your ride is coming.”

“Neither do I,” I whisper to my knees after a few seconds. His words echo in my brain. My chest aches with the confession.

“Come on, let’s get you two home. It’s too damn hot to sit out here all day.”

As Josh buckles Ashton into his niece’s carseat, I hold tightly to myself and try to smother the pain eating away at me. A lump forms in my throat at the memory of a carseat in the back of Eddie’s car so long ago.

The drive to the house is quiet except for Ashton babbling in the backseat.

Josh sends me inquisitive looks from the corner of his eye a few times, but he doesn’t say anything.

I don’t know what I would say to his questions, anyway.

So I rest her head against the window and concentrate on shoving everything to the back of my mind.

Thoughts swirl around my brain, unrelenting and agonizing.

“Hey, Dealla?”

I look away from the house—when had we arrived?

Josh’s lips quirk up into a smile that falls flat, and he reaches for my hand.

I stare down at my lap when the concern on his face grows to be too much to bear.

When it reminds me that this weight isn’t meant for anyone else’s shoulders, and it’s not right for me to expect them to help.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” Josh murmurs, “but you know you can talk to me, right?”

I cough out a delirious laugh. “Trust me, if I knew, it wouldn’t be a problem. But thanks, I appreciate it.”

Josh waits until I have reached the front door with Ashton in my arms, then honks once.

His car disappears from view only moments later, and I stare up at the home that’s become nothing more than a house.

He better have a damn good reason , I think with a surprising bitterness.

Kissing Ashton’s temple, I inhale slowly then make my way through the door.

The irritation explodes when I step inside only to hear an unfamiliar voice coming from the living room.

I set Ashton on his feet and help him pull off his shoes before slipping out of my own flats.

His hand is sweaty as he wraps his fingers around mine.

He grins up at me, an innocent face made more precious by the love and trust found there.

Holden sits on the couch, laughing at whatever his friend has said on the video call, and I swallow down the venom.

The grin he flashes my way does nothing to quell my anger.

It only fans the flames. I turn away from him without a word, lead Ashton upstairs to the bathroom.

While the tub fills, I strip him from his sweat-damp clothes.

My thoughts burst into a frenzy, and I can’t catch hold of any of them.

Not really. All I feel are the hurt and betrayal of having been forgotten.

Holden had found a laugh with a friend more important than remembering to pick up his girlfriend and the child he claims to love.

He left us waiting in the afternoon heat without the decency of apologizing when he saw us.

I don’t realize I’ve begun sobbing until Ashton stops splashing in the water, staring up at me with wide eyes.

“’Kay?”

“Auntie Dee is okay, baby,” I croak out, and the crack in my voice is nothing to the shattered condition of my heart.

Once Ashton is bathed, I wrap him in a towel and hold him tightly to my chest. He rests his head on my shoulder as I carry him to his bedroom. He shivers and remains quiet while I dress him in a set of warm pajamas. I gaze at him. At the proof of the perfection he’s brought to her life.

“I love you so much, Ashton Alexander. You hear me?” I kiss his forehead and close my eyes against the tears. “You’re my everything.”

Holden is off the call by the time I come downstairs with Ashton. I avoid looking at my boyfriend as I leave the toddler by his toy-bin, my hand smoothing down his damp hair. Unfortunately, Holden remains as oblivious as when I came home, and he follows me into the kitchen.

“How was your day, sweetheart?”

“Fine.”

“Sorry I didn’t ask when you came in. Barry, a friend from high school, just wanted to tell me about his band’s latest adventures.”

“It’s fine.” Obviously I know where I stand.

I grab lettuce from the fridge and a tomato from the cluster in the bowl on the counter.

Holden chatters on while I dice up the produce for the salad, and I let the sound of his voice fade under the buzzing in my ears.

I grit my teeth to the point of aching. I know if I say anything right now, it will be the end of us.

I’m not sure anymore if it would be the end of the world.

“So why are you home so late?” Holden asks as he reaches for a cube of tomato.

I taste blood on my tongue, as acidic as the words I keep behind my lips. “Because I had to wait for Josh to finish up so he could give us a ride home.”

“That was nice of him.”

“Yeah? Well, he shouldn’t have fucking had to.”

A hot tendril of pleasure warps through me when Holden rears back.

His mouth falls open, his eyes are wide, and I relish the expression on his face.

I know he’s going to ask questions: The lack of response from me is one thing, if he even noticed it, but cursing—shouting—at him is new.

Slamming the knife onto the cutting board, I clench my hands into fists and drag in breath after unsteady breath.

“Sweetheart? What’s wrong?”

“An’ Dee?”

I turn to see Ashton in the archway. Tears fills his eyes before spilling over.

Acrid guilt mingles with the anger to burn a fiery path along my nerves.

I spare a second to wipe my hands on a dishtowel, then I rush to his side.

He buries his face into my neck, his little body trembling.

I swallow thickly and stand with him clutched in my arms.

“We’re going to get dinner,” I spit out. “Cook whatever you want.”

“Dealla, stop. Where—what the hell happened?”

I don’t bother answering Holden. Even when I nearly fall on my ass while trying to slip my feet into my flats, I stay silent. Holden grabs my purse before I can, holding it out of range. I refuse to cave. Refuse to say a word.

Refuse to give in to the urge to tell him exactly how I feel about his lack of care.

I may be angry, and I hate what he’s done, but I don’t want to end our relationship. I still love him despite it all.

“Dealla, please talk to me.”

I reach out and yank my purse from his hand. Everything about the situation is so wrong. I don’t care. Grabbing his keys from the hook, I step outside and close the door on the sight of Holden. The hurt and confusion on his face remain visible through the glass.

Cracks eat away at the foundation of our relationship as the snap of the door echoes in my ears.