“Jesus, will you stop persecuting me?” he asked, dropping his fork. “I can’t change the past. I can’t make it go away.”
“Right,” she said nodding furiously. “And maybe you shouldn’t try. Maybe I shouldn’t either. Maybe we should just let the past lie.”
“Oh for Chrissakes,” he said, and pushed his plate away, too. He started looking around for a waiter. “This is going nowhere. Let’s just get the hell out of here.”
“Fine with me,” she snapped.
They sat in stone-cold silence until the waiter came and gave them a bill. Michael tossed a few bills on the table and stood up. So did Leah. And together, they marched out of the restaurant, the gulf that had started to creep between them spilling into an ocean by the time they reached the car.
Michael drove like a maniac back to Leah’s house, clearly ready to be rid of her, and the feeling was entirely mutual. At that moment, Leah didn’t care if she ever saw him again. But when they pulled into the drive, and she reached for the door, Michael put a hand on her leg. “Leah. We can leave it like this. Or we can agree that it’s something we’re going to have to work through if we want to be together.”
She hated logic. “Or, we can just call it a day and move on,” she said, her hand falling away from the door.
“We could. But I don’t want that. Do you really want that?” he asked as his hand sought hers.
“I don’t know what I want,” she said morosely, and let him twine his fingers with hers.
“I understand that. But please don’t jump off the deep end on me, baby. Give me a chance.”
Leah looked at the brown eyes so beautiful they almost made her weep, at the chiseled face, the sexy five o’clock shadow, and as always, that thick strand of black hair across his brow. No, she wasn’t ready to give up. She didn’t know what to think or what to believe, or what really was bothering her, but she wasn’t ready to quit.
Michael, like always, seemed to know what she was thinking and leaned across the console, touched his lips lightly to hers. His hand fell on her cheek, his fingers spreading across her face. Leah gripped his wrist, clinging to him, feeling the power of his desire seep through her skin. She didn’t want to let go, she wanted to believe him, but she couldn’t seem to swim past old, hurtful feelings that kept surfacing. Mixed in with the joy of having discovered her one true love again were bits of anger and distrust and that dreadful feeling that she was headed for the biggest fall yet.
So she pushed back from him and turned away, looking blindly out the window. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said softly, and got out of the car, shut the door, and hurried to her front door without looking at him, without seeing that expression in his eyes that could make her forget herself.
Michael waited until she was safely inside, then put the car in reverse, spinning out of her drive and getting the hell out of dodge.
Frankly, he was beginning to wonder if a man could ever go back again, or if it was always just too late. He loved Leah, more than anything. But he didn’t relish the thought of apologizing for his past all the rest of his days. At some point, if she wanted to be with him, she had to accept what had happened and move on. Or, if she couldn’t let go of her grudge, she could just simply move on now, like she said. Without him.
Either way, at the moment he didn’t give a shit what she did, because he had a splitting headache.
Subject: Old Times
From: rtj0431 <[email protected]>
To: Michael Raney <[email protected]>
Time: 4:32 pm
Yo, bro, been trying to get hold of you. Rex here—remember your old pal? The one who is actually trying to save your ass? Listen, you’ll want to hear what I have to tell you. It concerns an old friend of yours who is no longer in the place you left him. Give me a call on the usual line, but call soon.
Chapter Twenty
LEAH was exhausted when she showed up for work the next morning, having spent yet another sleepless night, courtesy of Michael Raney. What happened to that vow she’d made to herself one hundred years ago that she’d not lose one more moment of sleep because of him, anyway?
As Leah marched across the parking lot, backpack in hand, Trudy, who was waiting at the gate, lifted her psychedelic shades and peered closely at her. “What’s the matter?” she asked when Leah reached her.
“Nothing,” Leah said. “I just didn’t get much sleep last night.”