Page 31

Hannah

Leo’s text message has me in tears again.

I just can’t see a way to get past this even if Leo says he understands what happened and why.

How am I supposed to face his father on a semi-regular basis and not have him hold what happened against me?

How am I supposed to look at him as anything but the man who basically killed my self-esteem?

He could one day end up being my father-in-law, and I’m not sure I could live with that.

Based on the way he behaves at work, I can’t see him apologizing to me.

Fuck knows I owe him an apology for the way I quit, but I refuse to cave to him if he can’t see his place in all of this.

“I gotta go home,” I tell Dylan after I’ve finally pulled myself out of bed.

“You gonna talk to Leo?” he asks, opening the fridge and pulling out a few things. “I’m going to cook dinner for Tess and me. You want to stay and then go face the music?”

I sit down at the island and let out a hard sigh.

Dylan’s offer is really appealing right now.

As soon as I get home, Leo will be all over me.

There will be no avoiding him once he sees my car.

I used to think it was awesome how close we lived to each other and how we are so secluded.

Now it feels like a total fucking nightmare.

“What are you making?” I ask, stalling for time, trying to figure out if avoiding having this conversation with Leo can wait another couple of hours.

More than likely, Leo is at work, busting his ass since I called in sick.

Going home now feels like I’m setting myself up to find Leo exhausted by work, angry that I left him high and dry, and still stressing about me running off.

“I’m not sure. Everything gives Tess heartburn now. Got any ideas?” He smiles at me, using this as an opportunity to distract me from my own thoughts. He knows I can’t turn down planning and cooking a meal.

“Cheesy mushroom and parsley risotto,” I reply off the top of my head, but thinking there’s no way he has the ingredients lying around.

He holds up one finger smiling at me as he stuffs the random things he pulled out back into the fridge. “Fresh parsley?” he questions, and I can’t even believe he has to ask. There is no way I’m using dried parsley, especially since fresh parsley helps digestion.

“Dylan?” I shame, rolling my eyes, and he laughs.

“Got it. I’m going to run down to the store and be back in a few minutes.”

“You want a list?” I ask, knowing he’s going to show back up here with a bag of shredded cheese and some white mushrooms. The only thing he’ll get right is the parsley unless he happens upon flat leaf and curly leaf.

“Yes, you want a list,” I add, not bothering to wait for him to reply.

“Ricotta cheese, cremini mushrooms, peas, flat leaf parsley…”

“And risotto,” Dylan says cutting in and I can’t help but laugh at him. He isn’t a slouch in the kitchen and generally he can follow a recipe pretty well, but when your sister is a chef, it’s kind of hard to show her up.

“If you find risotto labeled as that at the store, it’s more than likely going to be a pre-made thing that has nothing on what I’m about to make.”

“Okay, you don’t have to rub it in that you’re fucking amazing. I know, which is why I asked you to cook dinner tonight,” Dylan chides back, smirking at me.

“I’m not sure that’s how it went down. I’m pretty sure you asked me to stay for dinner because you were cooking and somehow, I got conned into doing the cooking.”

He steps toward me, pulling me in for a hug, letting out a hard sigh when I relax against him.

It hits me now what he was doing and while it was a backhanded way of getting me out of this funk for a bit, I’m grateful.

I need to focus on something else other than this disaster that is still playing out with Leo and his dad.

“Thank you,” I say, resting my head on Dylan’s shoulder.

“No problem, sis. Now what else do I need to get?”

“Arborio rice, ginger ale and a pint of all-natural vanilla ice cream.”

He pulls back, hitting me with a funny look as if he’s questioning my grocery store requests. It is an odd order, but it’s not all going into the risotto.

“The ginger ale and the ice cream are for Tessa. They’ll help with the heartburn, but I’m hoping my risotto does the trick.” I wink at him, as he pulls out his phone and begins to make a list.

“I’ll be back soon. Tessa should be home in an hour or so, as long as she doesn’t get caught up obsessing over something with the restaurant,” Dylan jokes. “She’s going to be excited that you’re still here. She’s going to talk your ear off about all the things you want for your kitchen.”

And just as I’m about to get excited about the prospect of designing my dream kitchen over dinner with Dylan and Tessa, I’m hit with the realization that I might not be working at Somerville’s much longer.

If things between Leo and I don’t get resolved, I can’t see him wanting to work so closely with me.

I try to hold it together, biting down on my cheek to keep myself from crying and waiting until Dylan walks out the door. He doesn’t need me blubbering to him all over again now that he found a way to get my mind off all the craziness.

As soon as the door closes, I’m crying again. I have to figure out a way to fix this.

A few hours later, we’re sitting down to dinner, the risotto is made and the wine is poured, while Tessa has a glass of ginger ale that Dylan picked up for her.

“Thank you so much for making dinner,” Tessa gushes. “I’m starving. Well, I’m always starving.” She takes a large forkful of the risotto, moaning when it touches her lips.

This is seriously what I live for as a chef.

Watching or in this case, hearing how much someone enjoys something I made, makes it all worthwhile.

I just hope I can continue doing what I love at Somerville’s.

I’ve never been more excited about a menu that I’ve designed as I am about the one Ellen and I discussed just recently.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it. Dylan told me your heartburn has been really bad. Low fat cheese, carbs, and parsley should help and if not, there’s a pint of vanilla ice cream in the fridge for you.”

“You’re the best, Hannah. Thank you,” Tessa replies, and the table falls silent. The stillness floats between all of us, basically screaming out the question both Dylan and Tessa have been wanting to ask.

Instead of letting this awkward silence play out any longer, I say, “No, I haven’t talked to Leo, but I’m going home after we finish eating.”

“Are you going to talk to him?” Dylan asks, basically putting it out there for me to say it out loud that I will probably continue to avoid it all.

Hiding out here at Dylan and Tessa’s hasn’t been that bad. Their guest bedroom and bathroom are much nicer than what I have with that giant soaking tub. Maybe I could stay just one more day.

“Han?” Dylan says, prodding when I don’t answer him right away.

“I don’t want to. I could just stay here and be your personal chef and then maybe your nanny after the baby comes?” I try, making both of them laugh a little.

“You don’t really like babies,” Dylan says, narrowing his eyes at me.

“I’m going to like your baby. I’m going to be the baby’s aunt.”

“You’re avoiding him. You’re avoiding it,” Dylan says, hitting the nail on the head. Of course I’m avoiding it. No one likes confrontation. I’m sure there’s people who do, but it’s certainly not me.

“Obviously,” I chide, rolling my eyes.

“It will be good to have it behind you no matter what the outcome,” Tessa says. “I’ve been here and I’m thinking Leo might surprise you.”

I don’t bother to tell them that his most recent text message basically says he doesn’t care what happened, and that he loves me, but I can’t seem to wrap my head around how we can fix this.

I said some horrible things to his dad, things I now regret in hindsight.

Had I known that I would one day fall in love with the son of the volatile Roy Langston, I certainly would not have quit the way I did.

But I couldn’t possibly have known, and I was actually really proud of myself for the way I quit. At least at the time I was.

I stood up for myself, I had taken back my voice and I wasn’t going to let anyone treat me the way he did, no matter how much I needed a job. It could have been done without all the swearing though.

“Yeah, I’m going. I’ll help you clean up, and maybe have another glass of wine, then I’ll leave,” I say, making it a joke that I’m going to draw it out a little longer.

And here we are a few hours later with the sky now dark, and both Dylan and Tessa yawning on the couch.

I’ve cleaned the kitchen, put away all the dishes, cleaned the bathroom and changed the sheets on the bed I slept in.

This is comical given there are still boxes at my own house that need unpacking and I rarely put anything back when I take it out.

Case in point, the dildo Olivia found in my bathroom.

I look down at my watch, catching the time, and knowing that Dylan has to be up early tomorrow and I’m sure Tessa will head over to Somerville’s with him. I’ve overstayed my welcome.

“Thank you for letting me stay,” I say, both of them looking up at me from where they are curled up on the couch.

“No problem,” Dylan replies.

“Of course. And thank you for making me a dinner that finally didn’t give me heartburn,” Tessa adds.

They both stand up to hug me goodbye and I know I can’t drag this out any longer. I thank them again and this time, I make my way out the door and down to my car.

When I start the car, my eyes catch the clock once again.

It’s after ten, and I know Leo will be wrapping up at Apple Jacks and heading home soon too.

I let it all play out in my head, trying to figure out how I can get to my house without Leo seeing my car and coming over to confront me for being a coward.

That’s really what this has come down to.

I’m afraid to face the reality of what could happen. There are too many what-ifs.

I start the car, driving toward Somerville’s but taking the long way and driving like an old lady on her way to church on Sunday.

Thirty-five minutes to get from Dylan’s house to my house must be some kind of record.

But the good news is, that it pushed me to almost eleven o’clock and I’m certain Leo is home and hopefully in bed sleeping.

I pull into the small driveway outside of my house, pulling up farther than normal in the hopes that my car is hidden by the house.

I’m not sure how long I think I can avoid him since I do have to work tomorrow.

We’re going to see each other eventually.

I guess it would just be nice to do it away from the prying eyes of the staff.

If I would have come home earlier, I could have done that. I’m a fucking mess.

I sit in the car a few minutes longer, trying to figure out how to even start this conversation with Leo.

I don’t want to come across like I’m defending myself, but I also don’t want to cave and take responsibility for everything that has happened.

His father was horrible to me, and I won’t admit fault when it comes to his treatment of me.

I finally exit the car, walking up to my house, hoping like hell I can sleep tonight. It’s going to be a rough go, my brain is a fucked up mess of conversations that need to be had and worry. Right now, I could use a massive glass of wine and a Xanax.

I open the front door, the house is dark, but it smells like Leo, and I have to choke back the tears I feel sting my nose. There’s this cinnamon and bourbon combo that will always be Leo’s scent, all those hours spent in the kitchen.

I reach over and turn on the lamp that sits on a small table near the front door and when I do, I find Leo asleep on the couch in my living room.

He stirs a little, his arm covering his face when the light fills the room and again, I’m swallowing back the tears.

What is he doing here?

Seeing him at my house, his face tortured even in his sleep, and I know it’s because of me. Because of all the hiding I’ve done, and the guilt eats at me. He deserves an explanation. He deserves an apology.

“Leo,” I whisper, squatting down in front of him as I run my hand over his hair, my hand coming to rest on his cheek.

“Hannah?” he says, almost like he’s questioning if it’s real, wondering if it’s really me standing here in front of him.

When my name falls from his lips, so do the tears. I can’t hold back anymore. I’ve missed him so much and it’s only been one day. I can’t even begin to imagine what a lifetime without him would be like. Whatever I have to do to make this right, I will do it.