Page 51 of The Road Back Home

Logan and Elaine, both in charge of the four-year-old rooms, already sit in a booth by the time Josh, Annie, and I walk in.

I accept the warm greetings though my stomach roils with nerves.

As soon as we sit, conversations burst to life.

I spend the first fifteen minutes shifting uncomfortably in my seat; my skin has gone cold, and my palms sweat as the others share inside jokes and bits of their personal lives that I’m not privy to.

I hate that I wait—hope—for Holden to call.

To give me a reason to end this night, even while I laughs at Logan mimicking a helicopter parent.

It isn’t fair to my coworkers or to Holden for me to be desperate for this get-together to come to a close and for me to interrupt the time Holden is spending with Ashton.

More importantly, it isn’t fair to me. Holden is right: I deserve time to myself.

Is freedom from responsibility, no matter how little, such a bad thing?

So I let myself get pulled into the fold and enjoy the beer Josh buys me.

To my surprise, Holden texts an hour into my socializing, sends a photo of a sleeping Ashton. I grin at the image and save it to my phone. A quiet thunk of glass on wood catches my attention, and I glance up to see Annie scrutinizing me. Her gaze flickers between the phone and my face.

“So I know we all joke about Josh being a worse gossip than an old biddy, which he is , but he’s been perfectly respectful and not told us a damn thing about why you left, even though we all know he knows.

“ Annie smiles, reaching out to leave a gentle touch on my hand. “You know we’re here for you, right?”

I nod and swallow the dredges of my beer. “Yeah, I do. And I appreciate it. I haven’t been a very good friend, have I?”

“We understand,” Josh says, “except maybe not Elaine and Lo. I mean, I don’t think you’ve ever really had a conversation with them.”

“I haven’t until tonight.”

Elaine raises her beer bottle and says, “And it was worth the wait.”

“Anyway,” Annie interjects, “like I was saying, we’re here if you ever need to talk.”

I sigh and run a finger along the rim of my glass. Should I…? “Well, my boyfriend and I went through a rough patch, that’s all. We just needed some space apart, but we’re okay now,” I tack on with a smile.

And as much as I know it’s ill-advised, I switch from beer to a whiskey and cola, and drink it as fast as I can.

The ‘rough patch’ is over now. Holden and I are doing splendidly.

But the cold rush of fire through my veins reminds me too intimately about the separation, clings tightly to my nerves, reminds me it could happen again.

Logan stands first, and I frown up at him before glancing at my phone.

The numbers blur and float on the screen, but I manage to decipher them: It’s eleven-thirty, and it’s time to go home.

I rise to my feet as well, help Elaine out of her chair, and gather up the glasses and bottles.

Setting them in the center of the table, I let her pull me toward the door while Logan tries to convince Annie she’s had enough to drink.

Elaine leans into my side, our arms entwined, with Josh just ahead.

He opens the doors of Annie’s SUV, and I slide into the front passenger seat before anyone else can.

Logan waits until the other three are in the backseat before he gets in behind the wheel.

He’d refrained from drinking—claimed he was involuntarily sober—so I trust him not to cause or be involved in an accident.

Everyone buckles their belts, even though it takes Josh a few minutes to realize Logan is waiting on him, then Logan reverses from the parking spot.

Logan is a wonderful sport, bearing up nicely as we sing along to the radio.

He even stifles a wince when the cacophony of slurred voices hit shrill pitches.

The drive goes by fast: It seems as if I blink, and we teleport from the bar to my house.

I reach into the backseat and pat Annie and Elaine’s knees, saying a wobbly goodnight to my friends.

Friends.

“We need to do this again,” I announce as I hug Logan. “Holy crap, did I need this.”

I close the door on their loud, enthusiastic shouting and laugh while I make my way up the walk on unsteady knees.

Holden meets me just inside the front door, and his hands shoot out to keep me steady.

I try almost desperately to kiss him. He won’t stand still, so my lips skim the air inches from his cheek.

He huffs out a laugh and leans around me to lock the door. I frown when he crouches down.

“Wha’doin’?” I whine. “Kiss me!”

Holden doesn’t bother replying, just slips the heels off my feet and presses his lips to the skin above my knee.

Pouting, I allow him to lead me up the stairs; the warmth of his hand bleeds through the thin fabric of my dress.

I step away long enough to peer into Ashton’s room, smiling when I see him sleeping in the soft glow of the nightlight; he’s sprawled across his bed like a starfish with his purple lion clutched in one fist.

“He woke up once,” Holden murmurs, “but I told him you would be home soon and you missed him so much.”

“He fell back asleep easily?”

And somehow, Holden knows what I mean—the deeper significance to my simple question.

His lips brush against the side of my neck.

“He trusts that you’re never going to abandon him, Dee.

He knows he can rely on you to always be there, even when you’re not here, because he knows you’ll always come back. ”

“I will,” I whisper.

Holden nods and laces his fingers with mine, tugging me gently toward our bedroom.

He helps me change into an oversized T-shirt, and soon, the exhaustion takes over.

Rushing through brushing my teeth, I give her face a once-over with a wet washcloth to remove most of my makeup.

Holden has the blankets turned down when I exit the bathroom, and I cross the room on unsteady legs to crawl awkwardly onto the bed.

I fall asleep quickly curled into Holden’s side.

Someone with a jackhammer managed to shrink down and wiggle their way into my skull overnight, that’s the only explanation for how badly my head pounds the next morning.

I carefully roll over and peel my eyes open.

Thankfully, the curtains are drawn tightly together, so no sunlight fills the room. Silver lining and all that.

The other side of the mattress is empty, the bedspread already smoothed out, and the sheets are cool when I reach toward Holden’s spot.

He must have gotten up with Ashton this morning.

I yawn widely then carefully push myself to sit up, wincing when the pounding in my head grows more forceful.

Blood roars in my ears, a wet swish-thump-swish that exacerbates the nausea roiling in my stomach.

I grab my phone to check the time; the digits blur for a moment until finally coming into focus.

11:47 . This is the latest I have ever slept as an adult, barring when I had the flu.

Scrubbing one hand over my tired eyes, I unlock my phone.

The text to my coworkers is quick, just an I’m still alive, are you?

Once the message is sent, I bite my lip then brings up the internet browser.

I know Holden said not to do this, to ignore what others say, but I can’t stop myself.

I tap at the icon on my bookmarks page, clamber out of bed, and amble to the bathroom.

The page finally loads as I finish combing my hair, so I read the blogger’s latest posts while brushing my teeth.

i seriously cannot handle this. he’s back with her which whatever, we already knew that (even if we think he’s a dumbass for it), but now she’s been seen out at a bar with other guys?

? while holden is - presumably - at home taking care of her kid?

? does our fav dumb cowboy know he’s being cheated on?

can someone just gets this chick out of the picture? !

I roll my eyes, instantly regretting it when the pain within my skull grows worse, but decide to leave the situation alone.

I may not have any self-control when it comes to seeking out the blogger’s attacks against me, but I have just enough willpower to not give in to the urge to retaliate.

After rinsing with mouthwash, I put my toothbrush in its holder and leave the bathroom.

Voices filter upstairs by the time I change into a pair of shorts and a tank-top, and step into the hallway.

Smiling when I recognize the voices, I rush down the stairs.

Henry and Ashton run around the living room while Samantha, Cheryl, and Holden sit on the couches.

He looks up when I enter the living room, and his hand immediately stretches out toward me.

“Dee! You home!”

Samantha laughs as Henry rushes headlong across the room.

I swing the child up into my arms and hug him tightly.

It’s been far too long since I’ve seen him, and I’ve missed him as much as I miss Ashton when he’s not around.

He grins brightly at me, a spitting image of his father, and presses a tight-lipped kiss to my cheek.

“Hey, Henry,” I say lightly. “Yeah, I’m home. You happy to see me?”

Henry gives an enthusiastic nod, kisses my cheek again, then wiggles until I set him back on the floor.

He goes back to chasing Ashton, and I watch the boys play for a moment before heading to the couch.

Holden relaxes as I lean into his side. This feels more like home than ever before, and I let out a soft sigh.

“It’s lovely to see your face again for more than a second,” Samantha comments with a smile.

I laugh and nod slowly. “Yeah, I’m… I’m glad to be home. Mostly because I missed Henry, so don’t be gettin’ any ideas that I missed y’all.”

“Be nice,” Holden says as he rolls his eyes; he pokes my nose amidst his own laughter.

“I am! I said I missed Henry, how much nicer am I supposed to be?”